#but i do think he's so much more grounded in the epilogue and prepared to face the future even when it will be hard

[kissporsche]

there's just something different about pete in the epilogue. he seems so much more settled in his own skin, he takes the time to consider what he's hearing, what he wants to say, how he wants to touch. there's a general sense of calmness that I think can only have come from a significant amount of introspection while vegas was unconscious, after the intense emotional whirlwind of the attempted coup and his resignation.

pete said himself he tries to live in the present, and i think part of that has been a defense mechanism, trying to not self-analyse too deeply or he'll have to confront the emptiness lurking there ("no. I've always been useless."). but after the finale, after finally owning up to what he truly wants and going after it, pete has had time to look at those choices he made in a desperate situation and has had to confront himself about them.

so when vegas asks him why he's still here, he takes a moment to really think about it. and unlike when vegas asked him before at the safehouse why he came back, he actually answers. he gives an answer that could have seemed flippant, but there's nothing but sincerity in the way it's delivered. he can't go anywhere else. and then: he just wants to follow his heart.

it's not a complicated answer. but it's what he didn't understand or couldn't face up to before, and he can only do so now because he isn't hiding away from himself any more. he knows that this was a choice he made and he will stand by it, keep making it, because it's what he wants. he seems so comfortable in his own skin in a way he hasn't before because now he isn't just living in the present: he's thinking about the past and what it will take to live with that, and most importantly he's thinking about the future and the life they could build together. the life he wants to build together.

and that conviction that he wants to keep following his heart gives us a version of pete who is so much more whole than any we've seen before

#kinnporsche #vegaspete #kp orig #i think the epilogue the sex scene and the escape scene are the most maskless we see pete in the show #and none of this is to say pete is suddenly healthy and everything will be fine now or anything like that #but i do think he's so much more grounded in the epilogue and prepared to face the future even when it will be hard #and i love that for him #and yes he gets smiley and shy when macau wakes up but that is just the natural reaction to being teaed by a teen #honestly (and this is just me being me lol) i even feel like those smiles are different??? #like they feel more sincere than his big fake smiles do #he genuinely seems like he can't keep the smile off his face after the initial embarrassment and it's so sweet #especially when he cuddles up to vegas at the end he seems so CONTENT #there's something about pete's big character moments occuring in times of high emotional stress #but the last we see of him it's this state of calmness with himself #knowing what he wants and sticking by it #man i just... pete

[d3wdropz]

DIVINITY: PROLOGUE ~ SUKUNA X READER

a/n okay I'm very excited about this!

I'm planning on splitting up the story into a prologue, fight, smut, then epilogue. I love build-up and world building, not just the smutty stuff, so be prepared for more of a plot w/ porn set up- plans may change though and upload schedule will be chaotic so be prepared

hope you all enjoy!

pairing: True Form! Sukuna x Curse! Fem! Reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: Sukuna is feared and respected, a self-proclaimed "natural calamity". Shrouded in power and mystery, not much is known about him, other than the fact that if you bore him you'll likely face a gruesome demise.

Now where does that leave you? A powerful and new "natural calamity" as Sukuna would say.

content warning: no smut, fem! reader, canon-typical violence, descriptions of violence, blood, death, swearing, kind of anti-hero/villainous reader, canon! sukuna , slightly non-canon setting

credit to @cafekitsune for all the amazing dividers!!!

The Heian Era- a time that would later be recognized as the 'Golden Age of Jujutsu'. A period full of strong sorcerers- and curses.

Yet, no matter their strength, no one stood a chance against the reigning king: Ryomen Sukuna. The very mention of his name sent fear into those who heard it. While he stayed on top of the food chain, there was nothing to be done.

If a village wanted a chance at survival, they had expectations to uphold.

First: respect and fear the King of Curses. Even if he's miles away, when he is spoken of, it should be with care and respect. No one is sure if it's true, but there are tales of villagers speaking of Lord Sukuna in a lowly manner- only for them to be cut in-half before they could finish.

Second: his arrival should be met with offerings and praise. Not to feed his ego, but to give him a reason not to burn a town to the ground. If, for some terrible reason, a village has Sukuna housed within it, he is to be treated like a God. Anything less would mean the death of hundreds, such an easy act that Sukuna would do it with his eyes closed.

The third, and final, rule: everyone is beneath him. No one is allowed to look him in the eye, talk to him, or even breath too close to him. Weaklings are expected to know their place. If they forget, Lord Sukuna happily reminds them of his strength by crushing their windpipe with one of his four hands.

No village has ever really strayed from these rules after they were made- not if they wanted to live. Due to this, Sukuna's arrivals come with a sort of schedule: an invitation made in hopes of gaining his favor, offering and celebration preparation, the 'festivities', and finally, his departure.

The latest, pitiful town Sukuna has found himself in is in their third stage. He's seated comfortably on a pedestal of sorts, with Uraume close by. If Sukuna were to be honest, he finds these kind of events boring and tacky. He can't help but sneer when he looks into a sea of sad, lowly, humans giving him hollow praise to stay alive.

As Sukuna sits in his head, he thinks that maybe he endures this because there's nothing better to do. Pillaging and bloodshed isn't fun if don't give yourself the chance to relax, ready yourself for the next venture.

Another perk of being invited to these celebrations: hearing gossip. It's no surprise that Sukuna is not a very social man, and Uraume is no better when they spend all of their time with him. So these short instances give him a chance to hear the latest news.

It's not like he would be ignorant to anything if he truly wanted to know. He just finds more excitement in finding things out when villagers whisper their gossip to one another- it also gives him something to do.

Lucky for him, the townspeople are bustling with news. Their voices are full of fear and concern. They try to hide it, try to keep Sukuna's attention on the various gifts they offer him. It's not enough, sadly, and he's becoming intrigued.

This distress isn't being caused by him, from what he can hear and tell. None of them have verified or given a name to what is on their minds, so Sukuna decides to wait it out.

Night falls by the time Sukuna finally knows what's going on. By now, the offerings have been made, the praises have been given, and this meant it was time for him to take his leave. Both him and Uraume can see the sweat bead on the elder's heads as Sukuna remains seated.

Uraume is confused as well, but is wise enough to not question or make a fuss- Sukuna does as he pleases, sometimes with no rhyme or reason. Their job is to serve him, and right now that meant refilling his cup.

Just as he's about to call it a night, fed up with waiting for something interesting to happen, Sukuna hears it. Some young, quiet girl was speaking with her friend as they cleaned up. Their conversation was of some new curse- 'if you could call her that' as they said- was causing chaos in a neighboring village.

As Sukuna continued to listen, the girl shared more. She informed her friend that the curse seemed to appear out of nowhere, one that no one recognized. The rumors are that she looks human, beautiful even! But she's really a cold-hearted monster. When her companion scoffs and claims this to be false, that if this were true more people would know about it, the girl argues back. She explains that this has all happened within the span of a day or two.

Sukuna quirks his brow, slightly surprised by this news. He didn't sense any new cursed energy, at least to the extent that this girl is speaking of. If some curse were to be close by with this much power, he would know. But, it would bring some much-needed entertainment if this rumor were to be true.

Just as Sukuna was about to rise from his seated position, he felt something shift. It was as if a balance inside of him tilted. He tensed up and looked to the source, sensing it's placement. Uraume turned to the direction, having picked up on the intrusion as well.

Within seconds, a shriek was heard. It was quickly cut off by the sound of clatters. The shift Sukuna felt morphed into a detection of cursed energy just as the scream died.

As if the yell was some kind of alarm, the village quickly fell into disarray as people ran away. Families held each other tight as they rushed to the center of town, right where Sukuna was seated.

He watched as their determined faces fell, filling with fear and despair as they were met with the sight of the King of Curses. It was easy to see that the villagers were now stuck between two deadly curses, having to chose which death they'd prefer.

Without hesitation, Uraume calmly creates a rush of ice that destroys all of the obstacles between them and the curse that's entered the village- leaving behind a small pile of dead bodies. It was a simple and effective move, the opponent is caught off-guard and usually frozen in the ice. Oftentimes Uraume freezes the curse until they're veins are frozen solid, an easy victory.

So Uraume is left shocked when they watch the ice fly back towards them. It's wasn't too fast, they're able to create a wall that protects both them and Sukuna. They try to analyze the curse, but it's hard to see them through the ice.

Before Uraume could speak, a joyful laugh rang through the silent village. To any human, it sounded innocent and childish. But Sukuna and his attendent knew better, they sensed the power oozing from the curse, the malice behind that laugh.

With his interest peaked, Sukuna stood up, towering over the wall of ice after he cuts it away. He's left intrigued for the second time that night when he sees a woman standing before him, now only about 300 feet away.

She looks to be about 20, but appearances can't be trusted when dealing with immortal cursed spirits. Her body is adorned in a loosely fitting, silk robe. It's large and ill-fitted on her, falling off one shoulder, showing off soft skin. There are unmistakable dots and splashes of blood that stain the front of the pristine and bright fabric.

Her laughter dies down as she wipes away a tear. When she looks up, her eyes lock onto one pair of Sukuna's. An amused smile spreads on her face as she stands tall.

"Well, I knew there was something interesting here. I could feel it," she spoke carelessly, twirling a strand of hair and cocking her head to the side, "I didn't think it would be this fun."

By now, the rest of the villagers have snuck away. This left an empty town, with only the sounds of fire crackling and the curses to fill the night.

Sukuna can hear Uraume sneer, disgusted by the disrespect coming from this uncivilized curse, "Have some decorum." Their voice is full of malice, as they ready for another attack.

Deciding to take this chance to observe the curse in front of him, Sukuna doesn't stop Uraume from using Frost Calm. He watches as the cold air quickly makes it way to their adversary. Both curses are left confused as the blast is halted just inches away from the woman's face.

The smile is quickly replaced by a glare and disgusted look. She glances at them, giving the Frost Calm in front of her little thought, "I didn't come here to fight some insignificant, little snowflake."

With that, she sent the attack right back at Uraume. This time, it was different. It was faster, more concentrated, and dripping with an immense amount of cursed energy. Left with no time to react, the smaller curse is sent flying backwards and into some buildings. Their impact is made worse as the ice encases them.

"Compared to the sheer amount of cursed energy you exude, that little pebble was nothing," the woman takes a few steps forward. Only now does Sukuna notice just how unproperly done her robe is. As soon as the binding at her waist ends, there's a large slit that reveals her legs, just short enough to hide her more intimate parts. Even with a lack of shoes, her feet and legs seem to be clean- in fact everything about her seems to be unblemished except for the blood. It leaves the Cursed King confused, but he easily drops it.

If Sukuna wasn't busy observing her and trying to figure out what exactly her cursed technique was, he would find her attire humorous and immature. It reminded him of Yorozu, her naked introduction still recent. A quick thought crosses his mind: is it some new trend for female curses to walk around half-naked? He knows he has no room to speak but at least he wears proper pants.

Coming out of his thoughts, Sukuna lifts his head and smirks ever-so slightly, "You're one to talk, woman."

Anyone could tell that this lady is a talker, and she returns his smile with a mischievous one of her own. "I wouldn't know, I'm new here," she stretches, raising her arms above her head, "All I know is that when I sense something strong- like you- I find it-" her eyes seem to shimmer as she stares into his own crimson ones, "and I take it."

With a little more time to stare into her eyes, Sukuna was able to detect what that excited gleam was: hunger. Some part of him felt a shiver run down his spin when she licked her lips and lowered her arms, "The stronger they are, the better they taste."

This leaves Sukuna chuckling under his breath, willing to humor her, "Aw, so that's it," in an instant, Sukuna is right in front of the woman, towering over her, "you're a dumb little thing that just came to life, hungry for power."

She held her ground, staring up at him confidently with a sort of excitement in her eyes, "I wouldn't say I'm dumb," in retaliation to his attempt at intimidation, she quickly pokes his chest. It was a gentle movement, something he wouldn't have even noticed. If it wasn't for the shocking strength he felt as he was forced to lean back. "but you would be right about the other thing, I just came to be about three days ago."

For any other curse, they would have been sent flying a few meters back. If she were to have used that move on a human, their chest would have been shot open from the force. This interested her even more as she took a simple hop back, only for her to fly high into the air. She then sat herself on a nearby roof, leaning her head on her knees.

"You're the most interesting thing I've found, none of the others could talk, or lasted that move," she grinned down at Sukuna.

Both of them knew this was just banter. The fighting hasn't quite commenced yet. They seemed too invested in the other, neither ready to kill and miss out on this opportunity to chat.

Sukuna glances up at her, crossing a pair of his arms, "Is that meant to impress me, woman?"

She only gives him a cheeky smile, "Not at all, I can tell that you're powerful, feared. Something like that would do nothing to sway you from fighting me." She closes her eyes thoughtfully, "I am curious as to who you are, you'll be the first thing I've ever cared enough to remember the name of. The first. . . 'curse'- if what the humans call me is true- that makes me need to try out my abilities."

His excitement only intensifies- this woman is something else. Sukuna can tell that this battle will be one for him to remember. It won't be simple, one-sided, and consist of him using his cleave to destroy his enemy in a second. He'll really get to go all out, get to have fun.

A rumble reverberates in his chest, a chuckle, "I'm your king, woman." Sukuna slicks his hair back out from his vision, smirking at and teasing the younger curse which only grows as she furrows her brows in anger.

She raises her hand lazily, keeping it level to her head, "You're getting annoying." The woman thinks for a second, before a smile graced her face, as if a light-bulb went off. She stands up from her seated position and jumps to the ground.

Out of annoyance, and some respect for her confidence, Sukuna averts his eyes from her figure as the wind blows her robe about. It doesn't reveal much, and Sukuna might be a tyrant, but he still likes to think of himself as a chivalrous adversary.

When she's on the ground again, she walks right up to him again. Her hands a clasped in front of her, joyfully. In any other circumstance, she would be a puddle of blood for getting this close to the King of Curses. But, Sukuna must admit that her presence has provided him entertainment for the night. So he allows it.

"I know! If I beat you, you'll tell me your name. If you win, I'll tell you mine. I'd love to continue this conversation, as you're the most fascinating thing I've come across in my short life. But- I'm itching to have a little fun." Sukuna listens to her ramble, rolling his eyes at her proposition.

Now, Sukuna can't help but find this plain hilarious. This stupid, little curse is making a simple bet and placing her life on the line. He could almost smack her on the back of her head from how absurd it sounds- but, if he were to agree, he'd get to truly see her abilities.

With a lop-sided grin, Sukuna extends his hand, imbuing it with cursed energy in preparation for the binding vow. He watches as confusion washes onto her face as she stares at his hand.

"What are you doing?" her voice is laced with frustration and bewilderment.

His brows raise before he lets out an exasperated sigh, "I forgot you're new- this" he nods his head to his hand "is a binding vow. It's a promise made with cursed energy that requires us to fulfill it. In this instance, it makes you're silly deal something that must be upheld."

She nods in understanding, taking an extra second to study his hand. She then shakes it, both of them taking a second to feel the difference in hand sizes. Hers is dwarfed within his, practically invisible when held in Sukuna's. This brief touch is also a chance for them to feel the others cursed energy on a closer level, more personal.

From what Sukuna could pick up on, before he dropped her hand, was that this wouldn't be an easy fight. He's both put on edge and roused by the amount of cursed energy coursing through her veins. What makes it even better is that she's completely unaware of the power she's holding.

He can't wait to be the person that forces her to unlock it.

The two take a few simple steps back. Sukuna grips his kamutoke in one hand, readying for battle. The woman, on the other hand, stands gleefully in place. She has no weapon, isn't readying any chants or dances, hell- she doesn't even look serious.

Even with her immature behavior, the female curse looks her enemy in the eyes with an intensity Sukuna's only seen in few. She puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head, "Ready?"

Sukuna nods with content, watching from the corner of his eye as Uraume finally begins to make their way over again. The look he shoots them is enough for the servant to realize this wasn't something for them to interfere in. Instead, they stand in the background, ready to jump in whenever their master needed.

As both curses begin to emit immense amounts of cursed energy in preparation for the fight, Uraume can't help but notice a new emotion reflect in Sukuna's gaze. It's something they've never seen him express before, though most ordinary people usually experience it many times. It leaves them confused and wondering what the hell conspired while they were incapacitated.

The thing that's left Uraume stumped, that's making it's first appearance in the Cursed King's eyes, is admiration.

Admiration for the curse that's about to battle with him to the death.

final notes okay! wow- i'm sorry this took so long! i'm happy to get this ball rolling though, be prepared for some fighting and more explanation in the next part!

oh- also i hope sukuna isn't too ooc in this- it's hard to get that guy down!

hope you enjoyed!

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna imagine #jjk imagines #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Ten

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4177

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Lots of Fluff, these two can’t keep their hands to themselves, oral (m receiving), two dumb dumbs in love, mentions of food, Readers nickname is Poppy (no physical description at all), talks of sobriety

Series Masterlist / Playlist/ Main Masterlist

Previous / Epilogue

FLASH * CLICK * FLASH * CLICK

It’s blinding, even with the late afternoon sun perched high above Hollywood Boulevard. 

The theater, El Capitan, its signage bold and ornate give the movie house its old Hollywood charm, welcoming those in attendance to the star studded movie premiere. 

There are so many people, stacks and stacks of bodies with cameras and flashes barricaded behind a wall of bigger cameras with more people holding microphones— masquerading as a friend-next-door the moment the camera rolls, dropping the facade the second the interview is over. 

Dieter is grateful the minute you both step out of the car that you had agreed to attend the event with him, having you by his side to ground him, not knowing what feelings or emotions this movie celebration would evoke— but having you as his plus one, as fans and paparazzi wailed and cheered for him after being away from the spotlight for close to 3 years—made it feel less paralyzing. 

FLASH * CLICK * FLASH * CLICK

It’s a precise balance of excitement and jitters, mixing and swirling a heady cocktail of emotions, nerves tickling at the surface— but the dizzying sensation settles, not dissolved but thinned and manageable the minute his voice hits the chaotic noise filled air. 

“You good?” A steady hand settling on the small of your back, his words a whispered question only meant for you, knowing how overwhelming this whole scene can be, even for someone who has been in the business for as long as he has. 

“Yeah, I’m good— it’s just a lot to take in. I don’t know how you do this regularly?” A hint of a nervous crack in your voice.

“Honestly, I have no clue— my memory of them is a bit hazy— I do know though, having you here makes it seem less terrifying, so thank you for coming. If it’s too much, you can skip it? I can do my obligations and meet you on the other side?” His thumb draws comforting circles to the opening where your dress reveals your bare skin.

“N-no— I can manage, I’m sure once we get moving it will be fine. Would rather stick with you anyway.” Your teeth gnawing at your lower lip, keeping your focus on him only, as you both wait for the line for actors, producers and directors before you to continue down the strip of red plush carpet. 

“Have I told you how hot you look in this dress?” He asks against the shell of your ear, a feather light kiss to the juncture of your jaw before pulling back to fix his gaze back on yours.

It's a simple cut, tailor made to your figure. It’s champagne in color with delicate wide straps draped down the curve of your breasts, the satin fabric flowing down the length of your body, the low-cut exposing your back and a romantic train pooling around the ground as you stand. 

“Hmm, I think beautiful, sexy, gorgeous were a few of the terms you used since I slipped into it— I’ll add hot to the list— Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself, Handsome.” 

His double breasted all white suit fit him so well, his white button down lacking the buttoning of the top few buttons, emphasizing the taut lines of his gorgeous neck.

“Alright Mr. Bravo, right this way. You’re going to stop on the designated tape marks briefly, let them get their shot, then make your way to the interviewers and there will also be some fans at the end of the carpet before making your way inside.” 

The sweet young lady assigned to Dieter for the evening debriefed the two of you as you prepared to step out into the sea of flashing madness. Putting you both front and center to the onslaught of yelling and demanding requests from photographers, ensuring they get the angle and shot that their Big-Name-Magazine-Boss will plaster across glossy pages accompanied in tiny print ‘shot by’ next to their name.

“You ready for this?” Dieter asks, almost as if he’s giving you one more chance to bail.

“No, but lead the way Mr. Bravo.” A kiss for good luck to his cheek as he removes his hand from your back, interlocking your fingers together followed by a few squeezes as he starts to guide you to the first stop on the carpet. 

“DIETER! TO YOUR RIGHT!”

“MR. BRAVO! DIETER— RIGHT HERE!”

“DIETER!”

“DIETER!”

“DIETER!”

Dieter’s confident and casual demeanor is charming, standing off to the side as he gets his photo taken, watching him as he does his dutiful requirements as the leading actor at his movie’s premiere. 

You study his profile, angular and captivating, his demure half smile on display as he does his best to look in every direction is name is being called to, the way his chestnut locks look lived in and controlled at the same time,  his overwhelming beauty is doing wonders to keep your nervous thoughts at bay— selfishly eager to get him home to have him all to yourself. 

As the line moves, Dieter keeps you close, your body angled in towards him at the next stop, an arm wrapped low around your waist. Your noses nearly touch when he looks over to you, a silent check in and an excuse to give his eyes a break from the bright bursts of light— honestly any reason to look in your direction. 

“Poppy, babe— I think they want your attention.” His husky voice breaks through the riotous hollering, his head tilting in the direction of where the ‘Miss, this way please!’ is being called out. 

You manage to tear your gaze away from Dieter, no real idea where to look or who to focus on, giving your best not super forced almost toothy grin, taking a few breaks to focus back on Dieter then looking back out to the wall of intense flickers— Dieter’s constant need for his sunglasses making total sense now.

It’s near the end of the carpet, where the interviewing line begins. Reporters asking their stream of questions— some related to the movie, others more personal. But all fairly tame and revolving around the shooting of the movie, wanting to know more about how Dieter worked to bring his character to life and if his sobriety was hard to manage at any point in time during filming. 

The focus directly on Dieter, letting you ride through the interview process with a front row seat. 

“Dieter, this is not a role we’ve seen from you before— it’s new and refreshing I would think. How different was it from your usual rogue characters, to play this soft romantic heartthrob?” The interviewer asks, utilizing her time with many substantial questions. 

“Soft romantic heartthrob? You’re feeding my ego right— give me more! It is very new and refreshing, like you said. But also kind of intimidating, since I’m usually playing some asshole— oops— Sorry! Um, some jerk in most of my roles, which kind of seemed like second nature for me at a point in my career. To then jump into this role, it felt foreign and scary when we started shooting— but I found a rhythm and I’m really happy with how it worked with the rest of the cast.” 

It’s ‘nice meeting you’ or ‘great talking to you again’ before progressing further down the carpet, to the next round of questions. 

“Dieter, congratulations on being almost 3 years sober now! That must be an incredible feeling? Did you find it hard to jump into this movie all while trying to manage your sobriety?” The next interviewer asks. 

“Thank you, that’s kind of you to say. It’s definitely an indescribable feeling, but I’m grateful for it everyday.” He gives your hip a light squeeze as he says it. “Sure, it was hard at times— not because of temptation or anything, but because I wanted to be fully present and show the entire team that I wasn’t going to let them down, it’s just something I actively work on daily now. But coming  into this movie in a new head space,  I was determined to hold myself accountable, making sure I was checking in with everyone too was a big thing for me. Plus, it didn’t hurt to have this gorgeous woman in my corner— I was grateful I got to come home to her every weekend, reset before the new work week.”

It’s the first he’s mentioned you out of all the answers he’s given so far— mostly sticking to directly related to the topic and movie. Your relationship is no big secret in your small town, but this is the first the two of you have attended something of this magnitude as a couple, even after being together for 2 years.

You’re not going to lie though, it makes you melt when he looks at you as he says it, awarding you with his lopsided smile and a wink before redirecting his attention back to the reporter.

“Miss, what do you think was the contributing factor in helping Dieter stay on track for this role.” The microphone pointed at your face as the interviewer looked to you for a response. 

“Umm, I don’t think it was anything I did in particular— Dieter was the one who made all of this happen, I was just there making sure he knew how amazing he was doing through it all— and supported him however he needed me. All of his success is because of him, I can’t take credit for any of that.”

The reporter seems satisfied, thanking you for answering it honestly. 

“You better hang on to her, Dieter. I think you’ve got yourself a keeper with this one!” Trying to strum up some playful banter as the interviewer comes to a close. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t dream of letting her go.” No care to the cameras or anyone around you, as he softly presses a quick peck to your lips— once, twice, three times just because he can. 

“Thank you for your time, Dieter. Enjoy yourselves tonight.” A hand shake to both you and Dieter, sending you off with a grateful smile for chatting with her. 

Each interview had similar questions to previous ones he had already done, but he did his best to give each of them original responses. 

One last interview, a major publication, waiting patiently as you both approach their little assigned space. They’re kind with their questions, which has been a relief for him the entire evening to not be bombarded with any humiliating or embarrassing comments. 

“What does Dieter Bravo do in his spare time now? You’re no longer living in LA, any plans to move back?” A string of new questions are asked to finish off this interview. 

“We own a gallery back in my hometown where I’ve been staying since officially leaving LA, still looking for a permanent place though.” 

“He owns the gallery— I just help run it when he’s off doing his movie star things.” You interject, correcting his statement in a playful manner. 

“Says the woman the gallery is named after. I call her Poppy— Les Coquelicots is poppy in French, also after one of my favorite Monet paintings, so in a weird roundabout way, she does own it— don’t tell her I put her name on the paperwork, so she owns more than she thinks she does.” The last part isn’t a secret because you signed the paperwork, but he loves using the line wherever he can, so you play shocked and laugh right along with him. 

“Are you able to find time to utilize the gallery for yourself? Will we be seeing any art made by the hands of Dieter Bravo?”

“I’ve been working on some things— I won’t say what, don’t want to spoil anything, but there may be something in the works that will be debuted soon-ish.” 

The report congratulates Dieter on his new movie and wishes him the best. 

“That wasn’t so bad. Plus, it was fun listening to you answer all those questions.” 

“I knew you’d enjoy yourself.” Pulling you close to his side as you make your way through the crowd that’s formed at the end of the carpet— agents, assistants, significant others who chose to forgo the carpet entirely, all waiting for the person they came with to finish. 

The assistant from earlier, meets up with you and points to a small group of fans who are all waiting for a chance to meet the stars before they head into the theater. 

You stand back and watch him interact with each of them. Signing magazine and movie posters, pausing for selfies and listening to each of them tell him how proud they are and how excited they are to watch their favorite actor perform in a new film. 

It warms your heart to see him showered with love the entire time. 

“Mr. Bravo, you're going to head in through these doors and there will be someone to help you to your seats.” The sweet young lady guides you both to the main lobby of the theater,  indicating the direction of the main entrance to where the movie will be shown. 

“Actually, can you point us to a side exit— our driver should be waiting for us outside.” Scanning the space for any potential exits that would be easy to slip out unnoticed. 

“Sir, the movie hasn’t started yet— I’m not sure leaving is the best idea. I can have someone come get you and walk you to your seats, the movie should be starting shortly.” The young woman is flustered by Dieter’s attempt to leave early, but just trying to do her job. 

“No offense, but I don’t watch my own shit— you never watch your own shit. You just wipe, flush and move on. I know you’re just doing what you’re told, but if you’ll kindly point out an exit, we’re gonna head home.” 

*

The constant low humming of the car's engine and the way Dieter’s fingers aimlessly map out shapes over your thigh, head resting on his shoulder you’re tucked in close to his warmth in the small back seat, enough to lull you to sleep on the hour and a half drive back home. 

“Hey, Poppy— we’re home.” Dieter murmurs softly as he kisses the top of your head. 

“Hmm?” Lifting your head, dazed as you look out the windows to see the car is parked in your driveway. 

“We’re home. Let’s get you inside.” 

Dieter offers the driver a tip and thanks him for the ride, then grabs for your discarded shoes and your small purse as he slips out of the backseat, hand extended out to you as you follow suit. 

“Oh, shit!” It’s a slight stumble out of the car when your feet hit the cool concrete, falling into Dieter’s awaiting arms, steadying your sleepy frame against his until you're upright and balanced. 

“Thank you.” Voice raspy with sleep, but cognizant enough to give him lingering kiss, a buzz of desire fully awakens you when Dieter deepens the kiss. 

“Mmm, why don’t we take this inside? I think your neighbors have had enough of us at this point.” He mumbles against your eager lips. 

“Meet you inside then.” You purr with one last kiss, before you pull up the hem of your trailing dress and head towards the front door, peeking over your shoulder, bottom lip playfully drawn between your teeth as you wink back at him, still standing in the driveway. 

Shaking his head and laughing, your purse and shoes still in his grip, he follows your lead into the house. 

Dieter’s barely made it over the threshold, closing the door when he feels his body being pressed up against the wooden door, your belongings falling to the hardwood floors with a heavy thud. 

Your mouth moves against his with a fiery want, Dieter falling into the motions seamlessly, his hands gripping at your hips pulling you as close as possible. It’s a dance of angles as your tongue dominates his, exploring as you lick feverishly into his mouth. 

Abruptly, you drop to your knees below him, his eyes blown and he tries to catch his breath. 

“Pop— Poppy…”

His sentence cut off by the sound of his zipper sliding down, rustling of his pants and boxers being pulled to his knees, his cock half hard at just the mere sight of you.  

The press of your lips and tongue against his hip bone is enough to make him fall to the floor, the drag of your upper lip across his skin, breath heated and stirring as you place another to his lower abdomen, wiry hairs tickle at your lower lip— then mirroring the same effort to his other hip. 

“Fuck! Poppy— shit!” His length is hard and throbbing, his mind trying to focus on the way you’re licking the pre-cum as it weeps from the head of his cock, a thick haze of arousal clouding his mind. 

He moans— fucking moans as you take fully in your mouth, his head falling back against the door, a staticy sensation building at the base of his spine at the way he’s repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. 

There’s a lot he wants to say, tell you how perfect you feel around him, how much he loves the way your hands roam about touching every little bit of him as you bring him closer and closer to the peak of his delirium. 

His breath ragged between lovesick whimpers, body tensing in preparation, a slow hum of satisfaction as you continue to move up and down his length— hand gripping tightly at the base of his shaft igniting a hungered fuse. 

“Pop— Fuck! Poppy, I’m gonna— fuckfuckfuckfuck! Babe, I’m gonna come!” 

There’s stars, fireworks, bursts of light. Fists slamming into the door. 

His spend hits the back of your throat, managing to take all of it as he continues to come. 

Warm. Salty. Perfectly him. 

Licking your lips, satisfied with your work, working his suit pants back up, fastening the button as you stand to your full height. 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw then to his neck, his pulse rapid against your lips, you pull back to take in Dieter’s blissed out state. 

“Th-that was unexpected— holy fuck! I just— w-when you— I don’t even know, my brain is mush now.” There’s a rasp to his voice as he tries his best to properly form words, pinched brows and  breathless as his lungs desperately fill with air. 

“Just wanted to make sure you know how amazing I think you are— watching you tonight, seeing how much you love being in your element— I’m really proud of you, I think everyone else is too.”

“Fuck, I love you so much Poppy.” 

He tastes remnants of himself on your tongue, and if he hadn’t just come down your throat minutes ago he would definitely be hard and ready again for you. 

Instead he takes his time just kissing you, pouring every ounce of love and affection he has for you into it, your dress bunching and pulling as his hands anchor your body to his, kneading the swell of your backside— your presence is overwhelming and not enough at the same time. 

There’s a low grumble that cuts into two of you making out, still situated in the front entry of your home. 

“I love you, Dieter. But I think I need something with a little more sustenance, though. I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick, then I’ll pull something out to reheat.” Taking a few steps back from him, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand and adjusting the strap of your dress. 

“Dessert before dinner kind of woman, I like it.” A throwback to your first date. 

“Mmm, you should know me better by now— I’m a dessert anytime kind of woman.” You smirked, mindful of your dress with each slow step backward. 

Dieter pushes off the door, closing the space between you, his mouth molding perfectly over yours, unhurried and attentive. 

“Hurry your sexy self back here.” He murmurs into the last kiss, swatting playfully at your ass before you turn and head towards the bathroom. 

*

A soft ballad drifts through the house as you make your way back to the main living area, the flicker of light emanating from your studio lets you know where Dieter is. 

“Do you want leftover pizza or some of that pasta?” You call out to him, cold air hitting you as the doors to the refrigerator open. 

“Dieter?” 

You pull the containers from the fridge and set them on the island counter, both options sounding like a great idea the more you think about it. 

When you get to the doorway of your studio, you find Dieter sitting, his brush moving with intent over  one of his finished paintings, still finding reasons to add to it.

Arms crossed over your chest, heading resting into the wooden frame as you lean into the doorway, taking in the picturesque scene before you. 

Recounting the moments over the last 2 years that led you to now. 

How every waking minute you want to be consumed by Dieter in some way, he nestles into every single thought or emotion you experience, always able to bring a smile to your face. 

Up until this point, love was the downfall for many of your relationships, loving too much or not enough, a hindrance to your own happiness. 

But with Dieter, there’s a deeper purpose, a greater feeling of being loved and respected. 

His effervescent spirit radiates from his soul, embedding himself into every corner of your heart. 

He’s a tidal wave of intensity, pulling you under and filling your lungs to their fullest capacity, you drown in him, never wanting to surface again. 

You’re grateful for his existence, for barreling into your life at full speed and for loving you with a passion you never knew before him. 

Dieter is your home. 

“That one is my favorite.” You state, moving into the room closer to where he is. 

“Hmm, I think you’re just saying that.” 

“Could be— or it could be the truth.” Your fingers carding through his curls as you stand behind him, admiring each brush stroke and line he created. “I know you don’t think you are, but you’re more than ready— they’re all so beautiful and I’m so lucky to have been witness to you painting each one of them.”

Dieter’s first art opening was next week, but he still found himself second guessing every little detail in each painting— his self criticism lashing out as the days grew closer. 

Silhouettes, every curve and crook shaded and painted in a manner reminiscent of your naked form, not recognizable to anyone but Dieter and yourself. Heads replaced with elaborate bouquets of poppies in washes of pinks, oranges and reds. 

“Okay— they’re done.” He says, placing his brush in the jar of stained water. 

He swivels to face you, his hands resting on your satin covered hips, three brief squeezes— I love you. 

You brush a loose curl off of his forehead, fingers trailing down his face, light scratches to his patchy beard he so proudly grew out. 

“So, you said you’re still looking for a place?” A cheeky smile forms on your face, looking down at where he’s still sitting. 

“I did, didn’t I?” There's a hint of sarcasm as he says it, the corners of his mouth starting to quirk up. 

“Mhmm— is staying on my couch getting too boring for Mr. Movie Star Dieter?” Your head tilts to the side in question, knowing well that in the last two years he hasn’t slept a minute on your couch— save for his afternoon naps. 

He stands, pulling you into his chest, eyes gleaming with an unexplainable excitement as he looks at you. 

“Nah, I love your couch.” He reaches into the pocket of his pants to grab for something. 

“So much so, I think I want to stay on it permanently— if that’s okay with you?” He asks, holding up a shiny object in front of you. 

A gold ring with a 3 carat, princess cut green emerald stone, flanked by two smaller diamonds. It’s ridiculously flashy, looking  exactly like something Dieter would pick out—  and you’re so taken aback by how perfect it is. 

You’re shocked, speechless, in complete awe of what he’s asking you right now, without even outright asking.

“You want to marry me, Dieter?” Your eyes glistening in the candle light, a few tears managing to slip down the slope of your cheeks. 

He slips the ring onto your bare finger. 

“Baby, I want you to be mine forever. Marry me, Poppy?”

Both your worlds, so beautifully different but painted together so well. 

“Yes! Forever— yes!” 

There’s tears and laughter, between shared feelings and drawn out slow kisses, text to friends and family sharing the exciting news. 

 “Thank you, Dieter. I’m so glad I gave your best a chance.” 

Next

A/N: I’ve been so eager to finish this chapter, and the minute I did I cried! I love these two so much!! I’m so fucking grateful for every single one of you who took time out of your day to read, reblog, comment, like, message about this series in any way shape or form— it’s truly been an amazing journey with all of you!! Thank you!! An even bigger thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for her constant support through every single chapter, you are my hero! Epilogue coming soon!

#sweet creature series #dieter bravo #pedro pascal #dieter x poppy #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #wildemaven writes

[flowerandblood]

A Winter Beauty (Epilogue)

[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]

[warnings: smut, so much fluff]

[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous parts: Masterlist

_____

Vaegon celebrated his name day. He just turned 13, his parents threw him a little feast on Dragon Stone. After Rhaenyra seized power and Aegon fled to Essos, the greens and blacks called a truce. The crown was hers, Aemond retained the title of prince, became the Hand, and was allowed to live on Dragon Stone with his family. His sister with her children and his mother also moved in with them.

The civil war ended virtually bloodless, and he, glad that his loved ones had survived, resigned himself to the fact, that he would never become king. He was fulfilling as a Hand. His half-sister and Daemon respected and trusted him. He performed his duties thoroughly and with dedication.

He taught his son sword fighting, but he was primarily an avid archer like his mother. Aemond accepted it, enjoying how fluently he spoke Valyrian and how perfect a dragonrider he was. He and his dragon had a strong, mutual bond. He felt proud every time he looked at him in the skies, as he flew alongside him on Vhagar.

Vaegon had his mother's sharp tongue, but he also inherited his detachment and calmness. Depending on his mood, he was more like him or Lady Stark. He and his wife both believed, that their son was the most perfect work of their lives, a walking proof of their boundless love.

One day, during one of their training sessions, while they were taking a break, Vaegon asked him a question, that knocked him off his feet.

"Why did you marry my mother, if you were betrothed to Lady Baratheon?" He asked, looking at him expectantly, wiping the sweat from his forehead. His bright purple eyes and curly black hair had young girls blushing and giggling at the sight of him.

Aemond stared at him in surprise, opening and closing his mouth, swallowing hard. He couldn't tell him, that he had kissed her the first night he met her. He didn't want to give him stupid ideas, that he could use later. He cleared his throat loudly.

"I fell in love with her." He spoke low and casually, deciding, it was the perfect evasive answer. He prepared himself for another duel. His son was not satisfied with his answer.

Vaegon saw, how his father looked at his mother, and how she looked at him. He saw them embracing, when they thought no one was watching, his father lovingly kissing her shoulders and neck as he stood behind her.

According to Vaegon, his mother was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, and the fire between their parents made him feel secure. He knew, that they weren't like other married couples. He also wanted something similar for himself in the future.

“You fell in love with her, just because she is beautiful?” He asked, wondering aloud, if his father had meant only physical intimacy and nothing more. Aemond raised an eyebrow, unsure of what to do.

"Why so many questions all of a sudden?" He asked, trying to get out of the situation somehow.

"I want to know, what it's like. Whom am I supposed to ask, if not my own father?" He asked resentfully that, as usual, everything about his father had to be extracted by force. Aemond sighed loudly, slamming his sword into the ground, leaning against the hilt.

“I can't explain it. The first time I saw her in Winterfell, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I had a chance to watch her and listen to her talking to other people. She impressed me with her intelligence. I realized I had no similar feelings for any of Lord Baratheon's daughters." He said, exhaling softly, hoping that he had finally satisfied his curiosity.

Vaegon looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. The explanation made sense to him. Indeed, his father had always taken his mother's opinion into account, and moreover, often yielded to her.

Only she wasn't afraid to talk to him directly and matter-of-factly, infuriating him. He knew, however, that his father could not hold his grudge against his mother for long. Even after the quarrels, that shook the palace, they slept in the same bed.

After training, he and his father went back inside, to take a bath and change into clean robes. Lady Stark was sitting at the great stone table, apparently replying to her brother's letter. After the death of their father, he was the new Lord of Winterfell.

She smiled to herself, when she saw them and stood up, walking slowly towards them. She couldn't help, but touch her son's dark curls, and he immediately took her hand away, impatient.

"How did your training go?" She asked lightly, amused.

"Father told me about how he fell in love with you." He said lightly, taking an apple from the table, that was on the platter. Lady Stark looked at her husband with raised eyebrows.

"Indeed?" She asked, trying not to laugh. Aemond rolled his eye impatiently.

"Leave me alone, both of you." He grunted, as he walked up the stairs to change.

Lady Stark joined him, as he lay comfortably in his bath. He watched silently, as she took off her robes, unfazed by her nakedness. Looking at her, he thought, about how much he would like his son to find in his life someone, like his wife was for him.

His son's question gave him food for thought. He realized, that he really didn't love his wife just for her body. He loved her for her devotion, dedication, wisdom, patience, confidence. For being able to deal with him, to calm him down, to calm his fiery anger.

His wife slid into the water, leaning her back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. He leaned in and kissed her temple lingeringly, his manhood throbbing impatiently behind her. It amused him, how inexhaustible they both were, when it came to physical intimacy.

They stopped fucking in the halls and gardens, not wanting their son to catch them, but in bed they were insatiable. Sometimes, they both escaped from the fortress at night, and flew on Vhagar to a place nearby.

They rented a room in the inn and fucked, as if they were mere traveling servants. They loved doing it. There they could moan and tease at will, driving themselves crazy. His wife's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Have you ever regretted marrying me?" She asked quietly.

Aemond looked at her in surprise, playing with her hair. He sighed softly, looking at her with amusement.

"You know I don't. You give me too many reasons to love you endlessly." He grunted, stroking her cheek with his finger. She smiled at him.

She looked at his lips, then at him. He pulled her to him, his hand tightening on her hair, his lips greedily digging into hers. His cock was completely hard now. With his wife, it didn't take much for him, to be fully ready to possess her. He pulled away from her, smiling at her.

“My mother was right. Verily, you are a true winter beauty."

_____

Thank you all for this adventure! I love Lady Stark in this version, I had so much fun with this whole story. Thank you all for taking it so wonderfully. I invite you to read my other fanfic here: Masterlist.

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes

Others: @dreamlandcreations @darkenchantress @moira-strangle-me-please @yentroucnagol @cloudroomblog @thehumanistsdiary @a-beaverhausen @avadakadabra93 @aonungs-tsahik @xmaiaa @writingaboutlove1998 @roxannequeen @alwaysholymilkshake

#aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond the kinslayer #aemond fluff #aemond smut #aemond one eye #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!oc #aemond x wife reader #aemond targaryen smut #dark aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell x reader #hotd smut #hotd fluff #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #hotd x you

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Kou Ecstasy [Epilogue]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in the Big Hall at Eden

Kou: ...Haah.

( Seems like everyone’s restless after all. )

( Makes sense. There might be a long battle waiting ahead of us after all. )

Reiji: This fight could last quite some time. You should be well prepared for that.

Subaru: ...I won’t deny that it was my fault that my Mother died. 

Still, it’s not like those Vibora go completely guilt-free either.

That’s why...I’ll definitely avenge her.

Kou: ...

Kino: Ahーah. I’m so bored. Say, can’t we tell funny stories or something?

Reiji: ...Haah. What are you acting so carefree for...?

Kino: I mean, it’s the Ghouls and the Familiars doing the actual fighting.

So we don’t really have anything to do until they actually make it over here, do we? 

Reiji: Well, you do have a point but...

Kino: It’s settled then! Come on, gather around, everyone!

ー The others walk up to them

Kou: ( I wonder what kind of story Kino-kun will tell? )

Kino: Once upon time, there was a certain family of noblesーー

Monologue

Kino-kun began to tell a tale of the past. 

A strange one...

yet it sent shivers down my spine. 

ーー Once upon a time.

there was a couple of nobles, 

who were blessed with a child despite already being of age,

the child which was born,

was a beautiful and adorable son,

with golden locks and blue eyes. 

The couple decided to give him the name ‘Emilio’,

and raised him with love and care.

However, their days of peace,

did not last very long. 

The area in which they lived,

became the ground for a fierce battle,

due to a certain individual’s actions. 

The boy was still very young at this time,

so the wealthy couple hired a wet nurse,

who would raise the boy.

While all of this went down,

the war escalated, as the couple saw themselves no other choice,

but to flee their country. 

However they could not run,

together with a small child.

With pain in their hearts,

they decided to entrust their son to his wet nurse.

However, the war only got worse.

In the end, the wet nurse felt like taking care of a small infant,

was simply too much trouble,

so she ended up dumping him somewhere ーー ...

Kino: ...Seems like the blonde boy lived quite the tragic life from that point onwards. 

A manhole baby, is that what you’d call him? Ahaha! Poor little thing!

Kou: ...

Ruki: ...Don’t tell me, is this boy you speak of Kou?

Azusa: Eh? It’s Kou...?

Yuma: ...Hold up, Ruki. That would be way too much of a dick move, don’t ya think...?

Kino: Fufu, you’re spot on, Ruki. 

Ruki: ...!

Azusa: H-Hey...Kino-san. What happened to the couple who ran away...?

Kino: Hmー ...Unfortunately they passed away. The train they were on got blown up from what I heard.

That being said, it turned out to have been a planned out attack rather than an unfortunate accident.

...Ah, actually. I know one more interesting story. 

ーー It was a certain someone who initiated said war. 

This man was a Demon, infamous for infiltrating the human world while taking on a different name and appearance...

...Hey, Emilio. Do you know who that could be? 

Kou: ーー !? 

( Why did Kino-kun choose to tell this story now...? )

( Why is he calling me Emilio in the first place? I’m not. This has nothing to do with me...! )

Leona: ...

*Cling* 

Leona: Your name is Emilio. And I am your mother.

The one who plotted the war ーー was Karlheinz.

Kou: ...Ah...

Leona: The man who cleverly worked his way into our community of nobles back when I was still alive and was a part of it as well.

That was none other than Karlheinz. I saw his face crystal clear...!

That face of his which screamed that he was non-human...!

Kou: ーー You’re lying!

He would never do such a thing! You’ve definitely got the wrong man!

Leona: Emilio, you mustn’t! Don’t let that man fool you!

Karlheinz was looking for humans to experiment on. That is why he needed their corpses. 

...Do you know why?

Kou: I don’t...How am I supposed to know...?

Leona: To create Ghouls like me, you see.

Kou: ...

Leona: After my death, my corpse was disposed at in Rotigenberg where the air is heavily polluted.

I am a former-human. I only became a Ghoul at a later point in my life.

Yuma: ...In other words, if this chick’s tellin’ the truth, we’ve been treatin’ the guy who caused all the misery in our lives as a dad?

Azusa: ...

Ruki: ...

Kou: ( No, there’s no way. That Ghoul is lying. )

( I mean, Karlheinz-sama would never do such a thing... )

Kou: You’re lying...Uu...

Ruki: ーー Calm down, Kou.

Kino, unfortunately, I do not intend to fall for your schemes.

Or rather, what are you hoping to achieve by playing with our emotions?

Reiji: ーー No, I believe he is telling the truth. 

With my very own eyes, I have seen reports of Father’s research on the polluted air of the Demon World, here in the research facility of Eden. 

Kino: Ahaha! As to be expected of Reiji! You’re quick to understand. ...Here!

ー Kino throws a bunch of papers at Kou

Kou: ...!?

Kino: Get it now? That guy was a scumbag, don’t you agree?

I’m pretty sure he abandoned me in Rotigenberg as part of this research project as well. 

Kou: ...Then.

Did he bring us to this castle...as a way to atone for his sins...?

Kino: Who knows? You four might have just been yet another one of his sacrifices.

Kou: ...

Kino: ...That being said. I believe it’s time to end this bastard’s bloodline. 

ー They are suddenly surrounded by Ghouls

Subaru: !? Whatcha playin’ at!?

Reiji: ...I see. This number of Ghouls...We’ve been set up.

Kino: Ahaha! Sorry! I used you to my own advantage~

By the way, all of the Ghouls gathered here were once humans.

They’re all victims of Karlheinz’ doings. They were forced to become Ghouls against their own will. 

ーー Ah, there might be a few people you know amongst them.

Especially for the Mukamis who were also once human.

Yuma: Ya bastard! What do ya mean!?

Ruki: Calm down, Yuma. Don’t play into his hands.

Yuma: ...Ugh...

Kino: Hey, Subaru. Can you fight those kinds of people?

*Cling*

*Splatter* 

Subaru: ーー Guah!?

ー Subaru collapses

Kou: Subaru-kun!

ー Kou rushes to his side

Kou: ( He was stabbed in the chest by a silver knife...!? )

A-Are you alright!? I’ll carry you to safety right away!

*Rustle* 

Subaru: Haah...Sorry...Guh...

Kou: Don’t talk! That’ll only make you lose more blood...!

Subaru: Haah...Hey, I’m beggin’ ya...Make it quick...Kuh. 

I’ll give you my dad’s powers so...Please use those to protect her...

Kou: What are you saying!? I can’t do that!

Subaru: ...But...I...

Kou: Oh come on! No more speaking!

*Rustle* 

Kou: ーー !

Subaru: Oi...What are you doin’...?

Kou: I’ll take you to her!

You should seek shelter there, as it’s the safest place!

I still have the key on me, you see...

Subaru: Guh...If you won’t kill me...then just leave me alone...

Kou: Oh shut up! Work with me here!

( ...Don’t worry. My brothers will clear the way for us. )

( I promise that I’ll save Subaru-kun! )

ー The scene shifts to the Chamber of Time

Yui: ( I can hear the sound of weapons clashing in the distance. )

( Oh no, I’m scared... )

...Kou-kun...

ー The door opens

*Creaaaak* 

Yui: ーー !?

Kou: ...Haah...

Yui: ...Kou-kun...? And Subaru-kun as well!?

( They’re both covered in blood!? I better tend to their wounds at once...! )

ー Yui runs up to them

Yui: Kou-kun, Subaru-kun, how...!?

Kou: Don’t worry, M-neko-chan. I’m not harmed.

Yui: Eh? ...Then this is all Subaru-kun’s blood...?

Subaru: Kuh...

Hey...I’m beggin’ you...Kill me...

Yui: S-Subaru-kun! Why would you say such a thing...!? 

Subaru: I’ve...inherited these powers...so I will recover from this injury with time...

However...The crimes my dad committed...will never fade.

Yui: Eh?

( What did I miss...? )

Kou: Hey, cut it out!

Let me tell you. You and Karlheinz-sama are two entirely different people!

Besides, it makes no sense for you to have to atone for what your dad did, just because you inherited his powers, don’t you think!?

Subaru: ...!

Kou: This whole story about my parents as well. I honestly don’t know just how much of it we can trust.

Even if you had to atone for his sins, this wouldn’t be the way to do it!

Subaru: ...

Yui: I agree. I don’t know what exactly happened while I wasn’t there but...

No matter what happened, I don’t think it should warrant you having to die, Subaru-kun.

Subaru: ...

Kou: If you want to atone for what he did, let’s end this fight? We have to defeat Kino-kun. 

Subaru: ...Yeah. Thanks...ーー

ー He loses consciousness

Yui: ーー Subaru-kun!?

Kou: Don’t worry. He’s just unconscious, that’s all.

...More importantly, I have to fill you in on what happened.

We have little time, so I’ll have to sum it up but hear me out.

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: No way...

( I thought the fighting I could hear outside was with the Vibora. )

( I would have never thought it’d be the Ghouls under the command of Kino-kun... )

( ...Also, there’s Kou-kun’s mother as well. )

Hey, Kou-kun. I want to ask you something. Please take me with you.

Kou: N-No way...! You might be in danger!?

Yui: Even so! I no longer want to wait here by myself...

Kou: Yui...

ー Subaru gets up

Subaru:  ーー Sounds good. ...You come with us.

Kou: Subaru-kun...You’re okay already...?

Subaru: Yeah. I’m not a weakling like you are.

...But, Yui.

I might not be able to protect you guys. Are you ready for that?

Yui: Yes. I’ll keep myself safe. 

Subaru: Hehe. Nice response.

Oi, Kou. You’re ‘kay with this too, right? 

Kou: ...Okay. I’m sure this will be the final battle, so let’s all go together.

Yui: Thank you...

Monologue

Perhaps it was due to our words of encouragement,

but Subaru-kun’s injuries,

healed at a surprisingly quick rate. 

He began to defeat the Ghouls,

one after the other.

The three of us dashed through Eden at lightning speed.

Towards that place,

where Kino-kun would await us ーー The World Tree

ー The scene shifts to the World Tree

Kou: ーー Ah, over there!

ー They run up to Kino

Kino: Fufu, I’ve been waiting for you. 

Subaru: ...Say, there’s somethin’ I don’t get.

I can sorta get why the Ghouls would resent that shitty Old Man and seek revenge. 

...But what about you?

Perhaps you simply hate all Vampires and want to kill us ‘cause we’re his sons.

But aren’t you also a Vampire and that guy’s son? 

Seems like someone has double standards, huh? 

Kino: I don’t see why I would need to answer that question.

Subaru: ...!

Kino: You don’t need to know. ーー Well then, here I come!

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kou mukami #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #lekouecstasyepilog

[gendrie]

“Accordingly, I have decided to defer our repayment of the sums owed the Holy Faith and the Iron Bank of Braavos until war's end."

"Your Grace," Pycelle said in a quavering voice, "this will cause more trouble than you know, I fear. The Iron Bank . . ." ". . . remains on Braavos, far across the sea. They shall have their gold, maester. A Lannister pays his debts."  "The Braavosi have a saying too." Pycelle's jeweled chain clinked softly. "The Iron Bank will have its due, they say." "The Iron Bank will have its due when I say they will. Until such time, the Iron Bank will wait respectfully. (Cersei, AFFC)

as regent to tommen, cersei decides to defer on the iron thrones loan to the iron bank. the iron throne itself has no money (thanks bobby b!) the only person to caution her against this is pycelle but she does not listen. she figures theres a sea between her and the bank and they cannot hurt her. she sasses the iron bank’s representative noho dimittis and makes it clear the iron throne has no intention of paying off their debt anytime soon. 

"I put no faith in these Myrish bankers," Ser Kevan told his good-father. "You had best prepare to go to Braavos." Ser Harys did not look happy at the prospect. "If I must. But I say again, this trouble is not of my doing." "No. It was Cersei who decided that the Iron Bank would wait for their due. Should I send her to Braavos?" (Epilogue, ADWD) 

after kevan assumes the regency he sends harys swyft to braavos to treat with the iron bank in person in an effort to smooth over what cersei has done. they cannot raise taxes out of fear of rebellion and are reluctant to pay off the debt with lannister gold. 

"I thought the crossbow fitting. You shared so much with Lord Tywin, why not that? Your niece will think the Tyrells had you murdered, mayhaps with the connivance of the Imp. The Tyrells will suspect her. Someone somewhere will find a way to blame the Dornishmen. Doubt, division, and mistrust will eat the very ground beneath your boy king, whilst Aegon raises his banner above Storm's End and the lords of the realm gather round him." (Epilogue, ADWD)

before kevan can do much else varys kills him to further undermine the lannisters. he wants cersei to destroy herself to clear the way for “aegon”. nobody will suspect varys of the murder instead they will all point fingers at each other further destabilizing the realm. varys works with illyrio to install a blackfyre on the iron throne. varys’ background is mysterious but he did, allegedly, apprentice with a mummer’s troupe as a child. 

Shivering, she sat up in bed and ran a hand across her scalp. Stubble bristled against her palm. I need to shave before Izembaro sees. Mercy, I’m Mercy, and tonight I’ll be raped and murdered.

This would make trouble for the Sealord and the envoy with the chicken on his chest, she did not doubt. She would think about that later, though. (Arya, TWOW) 

once the lannister party arrive in braavos they are intercepted by arya stark, apprenticing with a troupe of mummers, who lures one of the guards away and kills him. it seems she had a mission to “murder” mercy and frame the westerosi visitors for the crime. this is what the faceless men instructed her to do - on the iron bank’s behalf. this frame up will be used to deny the lannisters. the iron bank is now actively plotting against them in the fight for the iron throne. they have no intention of relenting. 

Tycho Nestoris had impressed him as cultured and courteous, but the Iron Bank of Braavos had a fearsome reputation when collecting debts. [...] When princes failed to repay the Iron Bank, new princes sprang up from nowhere and took their thrones. (Jon, ADWD) 

the iron bank did, however, loan money to lord commander of the night’s watch jon snow to help buy supplies and food. jon references the very plot that his little sister is directly involved in with the bank and the throne.

"The Iron Bank has opened its coffers to me. You will collect their coin and hire ships and sellswords. A company of good repute, if you can find one. The Golden Company would be my first choice, if they are not already under contract. Seek for them in the Disputed Lands, if need be. But first hire as many swords as you can find in Braavos, and send them to me by way of Eastwatch. Archers as well, we need more bows." 

"Oh, and take the Stark girl with you. Deliver her to Lord Commander Snow on your way to Eastwatch." Stannis tapped the parchment that lay before him. "A true king pays his debts." (Theon, TWOW) 

but the big agreement is with stannis baratheon. he got a loan from the iron bank so it would seem stannis is their new pick to take the iron throne. stannis has sent justin massey to collect the gold from braavos and hire sellswords (but not the GC bc they’ve already joined “aegon”)......after he drops off jeyne p. who is posing as “arya stark” at the wall. which, of course, will not be a safe place to leave her bc jon is dead so jeyne will travel to braavos

#asoiaf nonsense #in review of the iron bank plot #varya and arya tag teaming the lannisters lmfao #i think if the FM have an agenda wrt arya #it'll become more clear when jeyne p. very publicly arrives as ''arya stark'' #then they will have both aryas in their grasp

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Confessions of an Imperial Concubine

Chapter One: Best Laid Plans

AO3 Author’s note/glossary/info one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven epilogue

All my work is 18+.

Throw me in a landfill; don’t think about the consequences.- Daughter, Landfill

Sera hadn’t attended the Emperor's speech, as she hadn’t cared what he had to say. He’d made such speeches on dozens of planets in the five years since he’d ascended to the throne, and Beakkal was no exception. She wondered if anyone had actually thrown rotten vegetables at him, the way they’d bragged about having planned to do. Clearly no one who’d boasted their intent to kill him had done so, at least. But then, no one but Sera had actually prepared for the task.

She’d trained for months, and she’d fully accepted the likelihood of her own demise, whether she was successful or not. That was fine, she figured; one less mouth taking food from her younger siblings. Her mother always said she ate too much of the bread they made to sell, and that it showed.

She wasn’t skilled enough—or strong enough—to best a warrior like Paul Atreides in combat, so she was relying on the element of surprise. She’d have one chance at cutting his throat with her knife. One chance to right the wrongs he’d done, avenge the lives he’d taken in his foolish war of revenge.

The late afternoon sun was hot on Sera’s back as she moved silently between the buildings, noting the shift in material as she moved between the buildings the Emperor walked past; rotting wood that changed to well-kept stone in the rich part of town. This was good— there were less people here. Not that anyone would get in her way, of course. No one on Beakkal would take issue with the Emperor being killed.

Except, she thought with a smirk, the glint of her dark green eyes locked on her oblivious target, for those idiot officials who didn’t think to instill extra guards to protect the Emperor, of all people.

Well. Their foolishness was Sera’s gain. No, it was the Known Universe’s gain. Every single one of the Atreides’ subjects would benefit from his death, they just didn’t know it yet. Centuries from now, they’d thank her. She didn’t need to be a martyr, didn’t need to be a hero, but it sure as hell wouldn’t hurt if people appreciated her taking one for the team. There was no way she’d make it out of this situation alive, but she’d do her damnedest to take him down with her.

She inched closer to him. Damn. He was so much taller than she’d expected; men on Beakkal didn’t tower over her half as much, but this snooty rich boy born of the Bene Gesserit breeding program must’ve had at least a foot on her, the bastard. She’d have to use the extra weight she had on him to her advantage. That was fine; she could do that.

She was close enough now. Just a few more steps, and then…

Sera launched herself at him, tackling him to the ground and straddling his waist. Her knife wasn’t the best quality, but she put it to his throat anyway.

Except—

The air around his form vibrated and changed color, much to her astonishment, and she realized there was a crucial fact she hadn’t thought to account for:

The bastard could afford a shield.

Frozen in shock, Sera looked into his eyes. A strange, incomprehensible feeling washed over her.

You, her mind told her in an unfamiliar, echoing voice. I am meant to know you as I know no other. I was crafted for you and you alone.

To make matters even worse—if that were possible—he was staring into her eyes intently, the blue glow of his gaze eerie, and then he reached up and yanked the cloth that covered her face down so that it pooled at her neck. An unmistakable glint of both recognition and awe filtered into his shocked expression.

“Sera,” he breathed.

Her eyes widened, and before she could blink, she was pulled off of him with a jerk.

Two of his guards held her by her arms so her feet were barely touching the ground. “How do you know my name?” she demanded, the abrupt hiss of her voice hiding the sharpness of her fear.

She’d assumed that in the event of her failure, she’d have been dead by this point. Instead of ordering his men to execute her, however, the Emperor stood to his full height, towering over her even on her toes, and addressed his guards with the commanding tone of a man who was used to being obeyed.

“Don’t harm her.”

His guards froze, and Sera stared at him in shock.

“In fact,” he went on, “release her.”

The guards raised their eyebrows at him but obeyed the command instantly.

“Leave us,” the Emperor said shortly, not taking his eyes off her.

“Majesty—“ one of the guards spoke up hesitantly.

The Emperor fixed the man with a look, and both guards immediately walked away.

Sera had heard about the glowing blue eyes of the Emperor, but she hadn’t been entirely sure the rumors were true. They very much were, though— the Atreides had a spice addiction, and the effects on his eyes were most certainly unnerving.

“You tried to kill me,” he observed.

Sera said nothing. 

“Why?” he demanded.

She still didn’t respond, and he tilted his head slightly, his unnervingly blue gaze flitting over her form as if he were trying to see everything that she was.

He wouldn’t tell her how he knew her name, so why should she tell him why she’d tried to rid his Empire of him?

“Very well,” the Emperor said with a sigh, “I’ll take you home. Your parents should hear of this.”

Sera blanched. “Kill me instead.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’d rather die than be taken to your parents?”

Again, she said nothing. She was being melodramatic, true, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“Then that will be your punishment,” he decided.

Sera gaped at him and wondered why in the hell he was being so lenient, so merciful. Before she could even think to ask how he knew where she lived, she was being led home.

“Seraphine,” her mother snapped the second the door was opened, the syllables of her name drawn-out and enunciated; See-ruh-feen. “Where have you been, you ungrateful girl—“ she cut herself off upon seeing who her daughter was with and quickly swept into a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty!”

“My lady,” the Emperor said politely, inclining his head in acknowledgement, though he must’ve known full well that Sera’s mother held no title. “I wish I came bearing happier news,” he continued, “but I’m afraid that your daughter has committed a most egregious crime.”

Hands on her hips—wide, much like Sera’s own, though her mother would never admit it in a thousand years—, she asked, “What’s she gone and done now?”

“She attempted regicide,” the Emperor said apologetically.

Sera glared viciously at the back of his head and wished very much that the dirt floor would swallow him whole.

Putting a hand to her chest as if she hadn’t known full well her daughter had been planning the assassination for months, her mother exclaimed, “I am so sorry, Majesty. She is a vile and willful girl; I pray you will not judge our family as a whole on her misdeeds.” Before the Emperor could speak, she added, “You may do as you will with her. I’m far too ashamed to keep her here.”

The Emperor froze, and Sera could hear the shock in his voice when he spoke, though she stood behind him and couldn’t see his expression. “You’d give your own child up so easily?”

Her mother crossed her arms and glared fiercely at Sera. “She has dishonored our family. I have no use for her.”

“No use for her,” he mused softly. “Very well then.” Turning abruptly on his heel, he strode back out the door, stopping once he’d stepped over the threshold and realized that Sera still hadn’t moved from where she stood. “Let’s go, Sera.”

She followed in a sort of daze, though she snapped out of it once she passed through the door. “I won’t be your servant,” she snapped. “You’ll just have to kill me.”

“You’re not going to be my servant,” the Emperor assured her, “and I’ll not kill you, either. You’ll be safe with me.”

“Safe,” she scoffed. “I’m safer here.”

Pausing his stride and turning on his heels to face her, he said, “How is a life with a woman who is willing to give you away at the first opportunity better than a comfortable life with me?”

Sera’s jaw tensed and she lifted her chin defiantly. “A life with anyone else is better than a life with you.”

And then, for the first time since she’d met him, the Emperor smirked, and he said, “Give it time. You’ll change your tune before long.”

Before she knew what was happening, she was flying offworld, bound for the new seat of the Golden Lion Throne:

The Atreides homeworld of Caladan.

In collaboration with @dunefandomevents for the Dune Mini Bang 2022. Art by @alexagirlie, moodboard by me, brainstorming with @meetmyothersouls, and betaing by @patronsaintofthetwinks

Tag list: @meetmyothersouls @ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

To be added, please ask 💗

#My writing #fanfiction #fanfic #dune mini bang #paul atreides #dune 2021 #dune film #dune movie #Original character #original female character #Paul atreides x original character #Paul atreides x oc #paul atreides x original female character #dune fanfiction #Paul atreides x ofc #fem!oc

[katefiction]

Those eyes (Chapter 8 - Epilogue) by @a-lifelessface [English]

Thank you so much to @clmarelich0824 for the translation!

Chapter 8

“What can be stronger than the heart of people who breaks into so many parts and still beats?”

I need some time alone", "I wasn't ready, William", "just leave me alone", these were the phrases that repeatedly passed in William's head throughout the flight to Kenya.

“I thought that before we boarded you would say goodbye to Kate.” Rob commented.

“What about Kate?” said William taking off the headphones.

“I said I thought it was strange that you didn't say goodbye to Kate before boarding.”

“Ah... She broke up with me.” William spoke trying to sound indifferent and put on the headphones. Rob looked at him shocked and pulled the wires from the phone, receiving an angry look from the prince.

“What do you mean?” asked Rob.

“What do you mean what? She got tired of me... She told me she needed some time alone.”

“Huh?” Rob looked at him waiting for more answers.

“And asked me to leave her alone...” confessed William.

“And what did you say to her?”

“Nothing... I didn't have much to say.” William shrugged.

“Did you stand in front of her without saying anything when she asked for time alone?” Rob questioned him.

“Actually... It was over the phone.” William spoke softly.

“But didn't you look for her after she said that?”

“I said I would give her space.”

“William...” Rob settled in the seat to look directly into his eyes. “With all due respect... Are you an idiot?” Said Rob making William very angry.

“Idiot for respecting her will?” William murmured. Rob smiled and took a more paternal stance.

“I'll give you some advice... Women don't always want to say what they're saying, you have to feel if that's right...”. William looked at him confused. “It sounds confusing, but that's how it works... You have to pay attention to the details. Sometimes all she wanted most was for you to go after her, it may not be the case... But it's always good to find out. And another thing... You should never end up on the phone. These decisions must be made face to face... That's the basics... You must know your wife, you know?” Rob spoke, making William ashamed.

“In fact, I noticed something wrong on Sunday morning... As soon as I arrived to pick her up, she was very strange. I asked several times and she said everything was fine. I was so stupid.” William commented and looked away at the window.

“I'm sure you can fix this.”

“I need to think.” William said, putting on the headphones again. Rob didn't say anything else until the moment they were preparing for the landing.

Lewa, Kenya

“WILLS!” a shrill voice filled the room. The moment William turned around, he was surrounded by female arms. Jecca jumped into William's arms, who stuck his body to hers and turned her in the air amid laughter.

“Jecca! I missed you.” William spoke as he put her on the ground again. Rob looked at William confused.

“I missed you too.” said Jecca, putting a kiss on William's cheek. “Hi, Rob!” she smiled and walked towards him, hugging him too. “I'm glad they came before, Jonah opened a new bar, opened last week, we can go there to remember the old days...”

“Oh, I don't know... I didn't come for a walk, Jecca.”  William murmured.

“Please...” she pouted. “It's been so long since we went out together.”

“All right,” he took a deep breath. “but no drinking all night. I need to come back as soon as possible.”

“What holds you in London?” Jecca took a risk.

“Nothing.” he shrugged. Rob cleared his throat. Jecca raised his eyebrows to Rob and William looked away at the door behind Jecca.

“Are you dating William?” asked Jecca.

“ No... What holds me in London is work... Jecca, isn't your mother waiting for us for tea?”

“This conversation is not over yet, I want to know who she is.” Jecca spoke pulling William by the hand towards the dining room, where his mother was waiting for them.

“Kate, are you sure they'll let me in? Wouldn't it be better to call William first?

“That would spoil the surprise.” Catherine without taking her hands off the steering wheel.

It was already late afternoon, when Catherine woke up and decided to go to William to give him an explanation of the way she acted with him the night before, saying those things to William hurt him a lot, but it was necessary for his plans to work out. Catherine knew William and knew he would forgive her.

Pippa was not willing to leave Catherine after all the fright, so she accompanied Catherine to William's apartment in Kensington Palace.

Catherine stopped in front of the entrance gates and lowered the windows, soon a young-looking man approached the window.

“Hello, Miss. Middleton, I am sorry to say that Your Highness is not in the residence at the moment.

“Can you tell if William will take a long time to get back?

“I can't say... Just a moment.” the guard walked away from the window and called someone on the radio glued to his uniform. Catherine drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “Miss... Natalie told you to come in.”

“Oh okay, thank you very much.” with a nice smile, Catherine entered through the gates.

As soon as they got out of the car Catherine and Pippa were received by Natalie, the older Middleton introduced the youngest to William's secretary and walked into the apartment.

Mary received them with a warm hug and a delicious dinner, when they were all at the table Natalie said that William had traveled that morning, Catherine could not hide her look of discontent and Pippa could not hold her tongue inside her mouth criticizing William's attitude. Until that moment, neither Natalie nor Mary were aware of their 'end'. The women said that William came back from his father's house super happy and went straight to do his planning meeting, spent practically the rest of the day in the office and the night in the room, and commented that usually when he is bothered by something he moves away, but that day everything seemed fine that it did not cross anyone's mind that something bad could have happened. Mary dared to question the reason for the 'termination' and Catherine moved in the chair, somewhat insecure to tell, but Pippa was faster than her. Pippa did not blame William for not seeing the problem, much less Catherine for wanting to hide it, but she thought it necessary for things to be clarified. No one at that table judged Catherine, they all supported her and told her how strong and courageous she was for having endured and denounced John. Both Natalie and Mary said that if she had contact everyone would have helped, especially William, but anyway they understood why she kept everything to herself.

Catherine decided to send a message to William, but got no response. After dinner with the support of Natalie, Mary and Pippa, she decided to make a video call. Sitting on the couch in his apartment, with the women around her, Catherine located her favorite contact: William.

“Hi?”

Lewa, Kenya

Right after tea with Mrs. Craig, where they talked about Jecca's environmental projects and also about William's, Jane Craig withdrew to put them at ease, Rob also asked permission to rest in his quarters, leaving only William and Jecca sitting face to face. She stared at him intensely and he pretended not to notice, something had changed inside William.

“I think we'd better not go to the bar.” William said suddenly.

“Wow, Will.” Jecca pouted and looked at him with sadness. “You liked going out with your friends so much.”

“I like it, I still like it, but today I'm not in the mood.”  William vented.

“Did you fight with your girlfriend?” Jecca stretched out her hand on the table to pick up his. “It's no use denying it, Harry told me that there is a beautiful brunette, but I wanted to know about you... What's up? Didn't she want you to come?

“Harry has a big mouth.” William gave a sad smile. “There is a beautiful brunette, who broke up with me yesterday, but I'm not going to talk about it with you.”

“Why not? And why did she break up with you?” Jecca caressed William's hands.

“I think things were going too fast... I don't know... I don't want to talk about it.”  William looked at her in an attempt to put an end to that conversation.

“So, forget her for a moment... Let's go out. Empty your head, drink a little, laugh... You won't be able to solve this with your head full.” Jecca smiled at him.

“All right... I'm going to take a shower then, then we'll go to the damn bar.” William said getting up.

“Oh, I knew you wouldn't say no to me.”  Jecca got up in a jump and went around the table to hug William. “Wills, before you go to your room, stop by my father's office, he wants to talk to you before going on a trip.

“Oh, okay.” with a smile, William withdrew from the dining room.

William already knew the Craig family's house, so he went straight to Ian's office, while Jecca headed to his room. The conversation with Jecca's father lasted about fifteen minutes, it was just congratulations on the advances on the research and Ian made himself available to help with anything that was necessary... Everyone in the Craig family liked William very much, it was a long-standing friendship and he was very grateful to them for their trust and loyalty. After the conversation, William went on to the room granted to him.

By opening the bedroom door he already located his perfectly organized belongings and felt guilty for being discouraged in a place where everyone wanted him very well, practically as if he were family, but it turns out that William just couldn't stop thinking about what he did wrong so that Catherine would simply ask him to leave her alone. He felt like a complete idiot for not knowing how to deal with the situation and the guilt for having sex with her consumed him. In William's head, although the next morning she said it was wonderful, at night she said she was not ready and this destroyed him from the inside, he thought he did something unforgivable for Catherine and had no idea how to solve it, so he anticipated his trip to Africa, he wanted to think, but it seemed unfair for him not to pay attention to Jecca, a person who always stayed by his side and always welcomed him very well in his house, since his adolescence.

William decided that he would not dwell on the situation with Catherine, he would enjoy his trip, do his job and then return to London... Maybe in London he would allow himself to think about her. Catherine was the love of your life, after all? Or was it just the first woman he fell madly in love with?

With this thought, William took off his shirt and threw it towards the bed, the same did with his wallet and cell phone that the moment he fell on the bed, lit up with the message notification of the one who became his favorite contact, William closed the bathroom door behind him without looking back.

About ten minutes later, Jecca tapped the door twice and had no answer, so he turned the handle and entered the room, the noise of the shower turned on reached Jecca's ears. The blonde sat patiently on the bed waiting for the prince.

The room was silent and then when William's cell phone started to vibrate it was easy for Jecca to locate. The photo of a beautiful smiling brunette named "Kate" appeared on the screen. The blonde took the phone in her hands and pressed the green button.

“Hi?” Catherine's voice filled the room. Traces of a nice smile could still be seen. Next to her were Mary and Natalie, whom Jecca had known for a long time, there was another brunette she had never seen.

“Hello! Kate, right? I'm Jecca! Hi, Mary! Hi, Nat! I don't know the other girl either.” Jecca smiled happily at the cell phone screen.

“Hi, Jecca. Where's William?” Natalie shot. Mary looked at Catherine who was holding the phone so tight that her fingertips turned white. Pippa went to the other side of the room.

“He's in the shower. William and Harry told me that you were beautiful, I need to agree with them... Nice to meet you, Kate.

“Thank you. Nice to meet you, Jecca.”  Catherine tried to smile. “Well, since William can't talk now... I'll desl..”.  Catherine stopped talking when she heard the noise of the door and heard his voice.

“Kate!? Jecca!? What are you doing?”  William spoke and Catherine can see the tall figure only in a towel behind Jecca who instantly looked back and slightly bit her lips while contemplating William's body, Catherine watched the scene horrified.

“Wills, look who called you!” Jecca said and put the phone next to William's face, who can see three known faces. Mary looked at him with sad but maternal eyes, Natalie looked at him with hatred and Catherine with disappointment. William was totally unresponsive and when he opened his mouth to speak, all he saw was his wallpaper.

Kensington Palace

Catherine hung up the phone and got up from the couch.

“ Thank you for the wonderful dinner, Mary... It was great to see you, but I'm going home.” Catherine spoke looking at her own feet.

“Kate, I'm sure it was all a misunderstanding... Jecca is just like that.” said Mary.

“Surely there's some reason for her to be in the room with him.” Pippa intervened.

“Misunderstood or not, William likes Jecca and allows these intimacies.” Catherine murmured.

“Maybe you should at least listen to what he has to say.” Mary said tenderly.

“Kate...” Natalie started. “I know we shouldn't even be palpitating about it, but before making decisions, listen to what he has to say. Do it for yourself. I know you like him and I can say that he likes you too.”  Natalie looked at her and smiled. Catherine just said goodbye and with a smile went towards the door. Pippa did the same.

Towards the parking lot, Pippa just hugged Catherine as she refused William's call.

Inside the apartment, Mary and Natalie looked at each other without saying anything.

Lewa, Kenya

William took the phone from Jecca's hands, undecided if he fought with Jecca, returned the call or wore an outfit.

“Fuck.” he cursed softly.

“What is it?” Jecca spoke with an air of innocence. Making William decide to discuss first.

“What are you doing here? And why the hell did you answer my phone?” William was angry, but spoke quietly.

“I came to see if you were already ready... The phone rang and I answered, I've done it other times... I had no idea she would be mad about it. Doesn't she know we're friends?

“Jecca... I told you we were done, then she calls me and you answer... I'm fucking naked.” William was red. Jecca looked at him from top to bottom.

“I hadn't stopped to think that way.”  Jecca got up.

“Yeah, you didn't think...” William ran his hands over his head. “Excuse me... I need to wear an outfit.” Jecca left the room.

William sat on the bed and diared Kate's number. Call refused. He tried again. Call refused.

“Shit!”  William exclaimed.

William got up and chose an outfit to wear. His desire was to run back to London and explain himself to Catherine, but unfortunately it was not possible because he came to Kenya for work. William read the message that Catherine had sent earlier saying that he was at the KP and regretted that he was not there, she was willing to talk and William risked thinking that she had called precisely to say that everything was fine between them. I WAS, until Jecca answered the phone and he left the bathroom only with a towel. Obviously, it was all a misunderstanding, but William can see on Catherine's face the disappointment, in less than five seconds he can read everything she thought. That ruined everything.

William was feeling overwhelmed, all he wanted at the moment was to empty his head... Going to the bar was not a bad idea, after all.

William:  Kate, when I left the bathroom, I had no idea she was in the room. I just heard you talking and opened the door without thinking.

William:  Before you turned it off, I noticed that your eyes were swollen. Were you crying? Kate, please answer me or answer me. We need to talk.

William:  I'm really sorry. It was a misunderstanding and I want to solve it. I want to talk to you. Not by message or by phone call. Tomorrow night I'll be back in London. I wanted to see you and clarify everything. I will never force you to do absolutely nothing to me, but I think I deserve at least one last conversation.

Catherine hung up the phone and wiped the stubborn tears that insisted on falling.

“Kate, please... Stop crying! You want to be alone, but it's impossible to leave you like this.

You can go, Pippa... I'm going to sleep soon.

“No way. I sleep here. What do you think about going to visit mom and dad tomorrow? A moment with them will do you good. I promise I won't tell you about John or William... You do that in your time, okay?” Pippa spoke tenderly. Catherine nodded.

“I love you.” Catherine spoke and more tears slipped from her eyes.

“Ahhh, Kate...” Pippa hugged her sister. “I love you too.”  said the younger Middleton as she stroked Catherine's hair. “I will always love and take care of you, even if you are the oldest.” A sad but true smile appeared on Catherine's lips.

Arriving at the somewhat rustic establishment, William and Jecca went to greet Jonah who received them with great pleasure. The bar was full, but not crowded and Jonah guided them to a more private area. A background music played in the background and William tried very hard to seem at ease. Jonah soon provided some appetizers and the bartender started preparing the drinks. William wanted to drink a lot, but was advised by Rob that it would be a big mistake. Would it really be? William felt too lost.

As time went by, Jonah decided to leave William and Jecca alone, by that time William had already had some drinks, but he still seemed as sober as he arrived, unlike Jecca who had a wider smile and a slightly louder voice.

“William...” Jecca called him, leaning over the table in an attempt to speak in his ear.” That brunette behind you has been looking at you since we arrived.” William smiled.

“Everyone looks at me when I arrive.

“You understood what I meant.”Jecca said squeezing his arm. William took the last sip of his glass and discreetly tried to look back.

There was a beautiful brunette, with a glass in her hand smiling at him. Noticing that William looked at her, she pointed the glass in his direction. He opened a kind smile for her and turned his gaze to Jecca.

“Offer her a drink.”  Jecca suggested.

“No.”

“No?” Jecca looked at him strangely. “William... It's the first time I've seen you like this.” William called the bartender and asked for another drink. The brunette behind him got up slowly and went towards their table.

“What form? Jecca, I...” William was talking, when he felt a touch on his arm. He stopped talking.

“Hello!” the brunette said.

“Hi.”  William and Jecca spoke at the same time. William regretted so much having looked back.

“Come, dance with me.” the brunette didn't even wait for an answer and pulled him by the arm. William looked desperately at Jecca who shrugged. The brunette led William to the dance floor.

An animated song was already playing, but as soon as they arrived the song it started was a little slower than the previous one. The brunette passed her arms over William's neck who placed his hand gently on her back, far away from her hip and began to dance, a step there, a step here in the rhythm of the music.

“You look sad.” the brunette said, looking into his eyes. William looked at her and she ran her left hand over her face.

“What a cold hand.” William commented, without thinking.

“Cold hands and warm heart..” the brunette spoke smiling. And William froze.

In the middle of the dance floor, William stopped dancing and his heart was beating so fast and a movie began to play in his head. From the day he met Catherine until that Monday morning where she kissed him in the University parking lot. In William's head it was an eternity, but in reality everything happened in less than a minute.

“Hey, is everything okay?” the brunette spoke close to William's ear who immediately came out of his state of torpor.

“I... Yeah... I remembered someone. Sorry...” William looked her in the eye. “You don't deserve this here. I can't stay with you while I'm thinking about someone else. I'm sorry for the sincerity, but I can't.”  he shrugged.

“It's okay. I understand you and thank you for your sincerity. I hope this someone you're thinking of reciprocates the love you feel for her.” the brunette smiled. “Let's just finish this dance, okay? I think it would be ugly for us.

“I think I ruined everything.” William spoke more to himself than to her.

“If you love her, don't let her escape.”

“My God, I'm venting to a girl at the bar.”

“Don't worry, I won't tell anyone the secrets of the future king of England.

“What's your name?” William said embarrassed that he only now asked this question.

“Catarina.” William let out a laugh in his nose. It could only be a joke.   “What is it? Do you think my name is funny?” she was laughing too.

“No... It's just that her name is Catherine. The girl... That I love..” William got goosebumps. “It's the first time I've spoken out loud that I love her. I love her. I can't let things end like this.” William smiled.

“Well, dancing with me wasn't that bad, right? ― Catarina joked and the music came to an end.”  I hope you sort things out with your Catherine... And make that clear to your blonde friend.” Catarina blinked at him and went to the other side of the bar, leaving William alone on the dance floor.

For some unknown reason, William felt a wave of tranquility, maybe it was alcohol or the conversation with the unknown brunette, but something changed in his head. William started walking to where Jecca was sitting. The blonde was sitting with her arms resting on the table and a smile stamped on her face, Jecca's pupils were somewhat dilated, a clear sign that she was drunk. William laughed at the situation, approached her, took her by the hand and led her to the cashier. William paid the bill, even though Jonah insisted it wasn't necessary.

For some reason, Jecca was silent all the way home, but as soon as they entered the doors of the Craig family's house, Jecca began to laugh and William looked at her confused.

“You never noticed, did you?” Jecca shot.

“I realized what?” William replied, leading Jecca in the direction of the kitchen.

“I've been by your side since our adolescence and you never noticed me.” upon hearing this, William stopped walking and gently pulled Jecca by the shoulders leaving her face to face with him.

“You're drunk, but I'll tell you anyway... Jecca, I love you.” Jecca looked at him. “I really love you, but as if you were a sister to me. We've known each other forever, and I think you're a wonderful woman inside and out. I always thought I made that clear to you.” He caressed her shoulders.

“I know, but I thought that one day you would see me in a different way, but now that Kate has arrived in your life... I realized that this would never change.

“I love our relationship, Jecca. And I don't want to lose your friendship.

“I don't want to lose your friendship either. Never.”  Jecca hugged him and William kissed the top of his head.

“Come, I'll get you some water and then you'll go to your room to take a shower and sleep. Tomorrow we have an important appointment.” Jecca nodded and they did what he said.

Chelsea, London

William:

'Cause all of the small things that you do

Are what remind me why I fell for you

And when we're apart and I'm missing you

I close my eyes and all I see is you

And the small things you do.

Catherine read this message several times, even though she wanted to ignore her treacherous heart, she didn't stop throbbing harder. Who did she want to deceive? Catherine has always been in love with William since college. Even though he never even noticed her presence, Catherine visited the library always at the same times as him just to sit on the opposite side to watch him. Young Catherine was not a stalker and never invaded his privacy, she just liked to admire him by studying. The way he leaned over books and frowned to think were adorable in her eyes, so much so that they were eternalized in drawings, made by her in her room when she had no one to interrupt her.

Lewa, Kenya

Kate:  I think we can solve this. Now focus on your work when you return to London, we'll talk.

William:  I'm willing to do anything for you.

William kept his phone in his pocket with a huge smile on his face, they were almost reaching the scheduled destination: Greater Kruger National Park.

The Greater Kruger National Park region is one of the largest wildlife refuges in the world. Composed of more than 7,500 square miles of protected land and has been designated as a Biosphere Reserve by UNESCO, it is home to more than 500 species of birds and contains more species of large mammals than any other African reserve. In this region it is possible to see all the "Big 5" (lion, elephant, goatee buffalo, leopard and rhinoceros).

Some of the most inspiring and innovative conservation efforts in the world are happening in this same area. The Prince of Wales was accompanied by his team and Jecca ― Who was as passionate about the subject as William.

The purpose of the project is to help local conservationists set up camera traps to protect leopards and go behind the scenes of the reserve.

William was delighted with the conversations and reports of the members of the institution and was invited to enter this adventure.

Along the way, William and the others present approached a variety of wildlife in a way that most travelers never do, including a visit to Jabulani, an elephant sanctuary that he introduced to them, closely and personally William can contemplate the African elephants and the conservation of the work that surrounds them. The trip allowed them to contemplate far beyond the safari.

William ended his trip renewed and full of ideas that can further leverage his projects, but now he would take a break from research. Your goal now would be to have Catherine back.

London, England

It was already past eleven at night when William disembarked from the plane, he was tired of the day in the African reserve and of the whole trip, all he wanted most was to go to Catherine's apartment and talk, but his body begged for a bath and a good night's sleep and not to mention that he knew that Catherine would get up early to work the other day, it would be rude of him to knock on the door of her house late at night without knowing for sure what to say.

When he arrived at his apartment, Mary was waiting for him on the couch and William scolded her for being up late waiting for him, she pretended not to listen to his protests and led him to the kitchen to make him eat and while he ate asked Mary about Catherine.

Mary told how him visit was, and that he went to his house to surprise him and solve the situation of their 'termination'. The older one had a maternal relationship with William and felt the need to guide him about the situation, because she realized that William had no idea what had happened to Catherine, so she told him everything with the intention of helping him understand Catherine and her motives. As Mary spoke, William felt as if a stab was stuck in his stomach with every report of her. All he wanted most was to hug Catherine and protect her from all harm. He felt like an idiot for not realizing that she was going through these problems. Mary advised William on how to deal with the situation and what to do to help her.

William recalled the conversation he had with her at the first official meeting, "I want to fall madly in love with a nice guy, who treats me with a lot of love and respect." William was willing to be that person, he would do anything to be that person. And with that thought, he fell asleep.

The National Gallery

Some clouds splashed the blue sky of another morning in London, the sun shone brightly making everything seem brighter, days like this were not so frequent, which made the occasion even more special.

William parked the car in front of the National Gallery, just as on the day he saw her for the first time, walking towards the entrance, William felt that his heart would jump out of his mouth, but his convinced feet did not waver even once.

William was redoing the path he made behind Catherine on the day of his first meeting with her, the Gallery was open and some people circulated there, some recognized him, others did not even bother to look at him, but William did not care... He continued walking, until he reached his destination and when he arrived his body froze, now only one door separated them. He knew she was inside that room. He can hear a song playing inside the room and opened a smile, she loved working with music. Taking a deep breath, William knocked on the door, soon heard a few steps and then the doorknob turned painfully slowly, he held his breath.

Catherine opened the door and got lost in the blue immensity of a pair of bright eyes staring at her.

“William.”

“Kate.”

“You asked me for some time alone, and I came to tell you in person, that even if we don't solve this now I'll wait a life for you. I feel like I've always waited, even before I knew why you're the only woman I love.” upon hearing this, a smile illuminated Catherine's face, making William smile too. Without saying anything, Catherine pulled him by the hand to enter the room and locked the door.

Would that be a new beginning?

Chapter 9

“Would that be a new beginning?”

When the door closed, the temperature of the room increased, William and Catherine's heart beat stronger. They both had so much to say, but they didn't even know where to start... They just looked at each other, the blue never leaving the green. She had pulled him by the hand to enter and his hands were still intertwined, William wanted so much to take her in his arms, but he did not risk it, he remained standing there in front of the woman he loved.

“So you love me?” she spoke softly and he laughed nervously, taking another step in her direction.

“I love you, Catherine Middleton, with all my heart.” with his left hand, he gently stroked her cheeks that sighed slightly with the touch of his warm hand.” I was enchanted by you since the first time I saw you here in this Museum, I fell in love with all the little things you do, your smile illuminates my life and stay with you, my love... It's like being in paradise.

“I love you, William Wales. I've always loved it, even before you noticed my existence.” she declared.

“You love me... I am the luckiest man in the world.” he said delighted and she smiled, so William let go of his hand to take her in his arms in a hug. Catherine leaned her head on his chest feeling protected and loved inside that hug, as if he were able to heal all his wounds.

After the hug, the prince led her to the small cream sofa. They sat one at each end turning their bodies so that they would face each other.

Catherine opened her heart, vented about John, told about the relationship she had with him, about the breakup and how he began to harm her at work, she did not cry because William was all the time holding her hand, only when she spoke of the threats and how he arrested her psychologically that she needed a moment to take a deep breath, already William needed a lot of effort to control his anger and closed his eyes every time Catherine said something that John did to her, most of the time he just listened to her, but made some comments and Also asked questions that Catherine accepted and answered with sincerity. When she finished talking, William settled on the couch and started talking and the first thing he did was apologize to Catherine for not realizing anything, he confessed that he knew there was something wrong but it didn't cross his mind that it was something serious at this level, William said that he was so afraid that someone would find out about them, that he thinks he gave the wrong impression, as if he was ashamed to be seen with her or worse as if he wanted to use her, exactly as John had told him. William made it clear that he said all that with the intention of protecting Catherine. William confessed her insecurities, especially with the issue of the media, she was already aware of all this, but William said he was willing to do anything to make that relationship work and his early trip to Africa only confirmed this. William was sincere all the time, explained that the video call was all a misunderstanding, told about his conversation with Jecca and the girl at the bar, making it clear once again to Catherine that he really only had eyes for her, and that Jecca is just a friend, but that from now on he would put limits on his actions because he is a committed man.

“So, how are we?” A seductive smile hovered on his lips. Catherine bit her lips, after the conversation they both felt so at peace, so relieved to have talked that all the horrible things that happened in the last few days did not seem to have any importance, the only thing that mattered was that moment.

“Do you mean you're a committed man?” Catherine knelt on the couch and slowly went towards William who nodded smiling and opened her arms for her to go to him.

“Yes, and are you committed?” She nodded as she sat on his lap.

“I remember our first meeting here, on this couch... You ate a Crumble so deliciously, you never wanted to be a spoon so much. ― said William making Catherine laugh. William held her on his lap and when he placed his right hand on her neck to pull her for a kiss, they heard desperate knocks on the door.

“KATE! KAAATEEE!” August punched the door, making Catherine get up in a jump. She ran towards the door and as soon as she opened it, August entered as a rocket.

“What is it?” she questioned him scared, William did not get up from the couch, but was attentive to all the movement at the door.

“Everyone is commenting that Prince William was...” August looked towards the couch and lost his voice. “here... Hi!” everyone smiled. William got up and went towards them.

“Hi, August.” he greeted him with a handshake. “Thank you for helping Catherine.”

“No need to thank me, Kate is my best friend, I will always be by her side.” said August, interspersing William's gaze at Catherine. “Well, it's already clear that you managed to meet, I'll leave you alone. ― Catherine and August exchanged a complicit look and William smiled.

Catherine's friend left the room and Catherine locked the door again, William sat back on the couch and she soon walked behind him, sitting on his lap. William was going to start talking, but she put a finger on his lips, he smiled, she took her finger out of his mouth and put her hands on the back of his neck, pulling him for a kiss, William caressed his back.

At first, the kiss was sweet, full of love and delivery. A fresh-ensing kiss. William wanted more, so he intensified the kiss and she reciprocated in the same proportion, when the air was necessary, he deposited kisses on her neck, Catherine sighed on her lap, her hands played with the collar of his dress shirt.

“Will...” she called him.

“Humm?” he murmured against her neck, his exploitative hands walked all over her body.

“Several people saw you coming here today and if the media finds out... Don't you think we're taking risks? We already made mistakes that day at the University.” she questioned him, making him raise his face to look her in the eyes.

Love,” he gave a quick kiss in the corner of her lips. “I came here with the intention of having you back, I took this risk, and I want you to know that I don't want to hide anymore... I want to be able to take you to dinner, I want to walk hand in hand, I want to kiss you when I feel like it, I want everyone to know how lucky I am to have you... All this if you feel comfortable, of course. The press is mean and cruel, I want to keep you as far away from it as possible, but I intend to take you publicly to prove that I want something serious with you.

“What will that be like? ― she asked, while caressing his shoulders.

“We can let it flow naturally, let's be ourselves... Do you trust me?” William asked smiling.

“Yes.” she framed his face with both hands and kissed him.

“This is delicious, my beautiful,” he checked the time on the wristwatch “but, what do you think about going to lunch? I promise I'll bring you back.”

“I think it's great!” Catherine got up and straightened her hair, when she was going towards the door she noticed that William was still sitting on the couch, without moving. What is it?”

“You look so beautiful, I love your flowery dresses.”  William declared and got up quickly, going towards her, with his hands on his waist, approached to speak in his ear. “Do the panties match too? I'm wondering what color it would be... Is it white?” he whispered.

“Why don't you check if you got it right?” she whispered back, William laughed in her ear and without taking her eyes off her, knelt her hand gently rubbing the hem of her dress, slowly he touched the back of her knee and went up his hand slowly making her shiver, Catherine put her hands on his shoulders squeezing him, when William touched the fabric of her panties opened a naughty smile and squeezed her tightly, Catherine moaned softly.

“The moment of truth...” William spoke with his mouth very close to her thigh, as he climbed the fabric of the dress, revealing the color. “White! As I had imagined.” Catherine laughed loudly and slapped him weakly on the shoulders, making him get up.

“I got the color right, what are you going to give me in return?” William asked laughing.

“I can give you something really hot if you don't annoy me for the rest of the day. ― she said and William opened a huge smile.

“What a hot thing?” he couldn't hide his curiosity and excitement.

“I'm sure you'll like it, but know that you need to try hard because I still haven't forgotten that you let Jecca see you in a towel.

“Kate, love...” he started talking, but Catherine interrupted him.

“Make an effort if you want to win.” she opened the door smiling, making William look surprised.

It was almost noon when the couple went out the hallway towards Catherine's office, where in less than five minutes, she put on a lipstick and finished her hair, William praised her as he always did, making her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Shall we go?” William asked.

“Yes.” she replied. William stretched out his hand to Catherine who glued the palm of her hand to his and slowly they intertwined their fingers. It was amazing how his hands fit perfectly. William kissed her hand and they started walking through the corridors of the Museum towards the parking lot.

Steak and Company, Leicester Square

The Prince of Wales chose a restaurant near the National Gallery to enjoy lunch with Catherine as long as possible, arriving there they were welcomed by an extremely friendly and discreet waiter who led them to a more reserved area, even before any order was made.

Catherine couldn't stop smiling and William flirted with her throughout the lunch, in the end they ordered only one dessert because it seemed much more fun to share, when there was only one strawberry left to finish, he declared.

“I didn't want this to end.”

“The dessert?” she asked.

“No, ― he laughed. ― this moment. You look as beautiful as a spring morning, smiling at me like that... I wanted to take you with me and kiss you until nightfall, but unfortunately we need to go back.” William stroked their hands over the table.

“I wanted you to sleep at my house today.” Catherine spoke in a low tone.

“Are you going to give me that hot thing you said earlier?” he said with a mischievous smile.

“Uhum.” she replied, making William kiss her hands.

So they finished their lunch, amid laughter and banal conversations. Catherine and William were so happy with this new beginning that everyone around them seemed to be mere extras in this love movie.

Chelsea, London

 “Love, do you know what I can't stop thinking about?”  William said very close to Catherine's ear. They were lying on her bed, his arms wrapped around Catherine's body and caressed her belly and arms, her back and hip rested stuck to his abdomen, her legs intertwined. They formed a perfect shell, William could feel the floral aroma of her hair.

“Hmm, in what?” she replied, almost sleeping in her arms.

“In how strong and brave you are...” he kissed the back of her neck. “I know it's a delicate subject for you, but before going to sleep I want to reaffirm what I told you when we talked in the morning... I didn't want you to have gone through this, but know that I'm proud of you, for being such a badass woman. I love you, my kitten. ― Catherine's eyes filled with tears and she turned her body to look into his eyes.

“I'm glad that nightmare is over and I can rest peacefully in your arms, this is perfect, you are perfect. I love you, my love.” she said softly, contemplating that pair of blue eyes, now in the dark her eyes shone with the intensity of a sea at night, it was beautiful.

William kissed her on the lips and then settled down to sleep, the day could not end more perfect than having her in his arms.

The weeks following the restart were considered perfect for William and Catherine, although Catherine was too busy with her work at the end of the semester and William with the completion of his projects, both found time to see each other, almost every night. At dinners, trips to the movies, short walks to the park, or just stayed at home doing what they discovered was what they loved most to do together.

On a weekend, Catherine took William to visit his parents' house, he was so nervous to face Mr. Middleton, but lunch and the rest of the afternoon went perfectly well. Everyone in the Middleton family loved William and the feeling was genuinely reciprocal.

When Catherine was introduced to King Charles, she trembled like a green stick, and William found her adorably beautiful and elegant in that dark blue dress, dinner at Windsor Castle happened in a pleasant way, both her father and Camilla loved meeting the sweet and beautiful Catherine. Harry already knew, but he was also present that night.

The media became aware of William and Catherine's relationship, and the rain of articles and news on gossip sites was maddening, William did everything possible and impossible to protect Catherine, but certain things were inevitable, but their relationship remained as strong as a rock, at least that's what William thought.

Varius natoque turpis elementum est. Duis montes, tellus lobortis lacus amet arcu et. In vitae vel, wisi at, id praesent bibendum libero faucibus porta egestas, quisque praesent ipsum fermentum tempor. Curabitur auctor, erat mollis sed, turpis vivamus a dictumst congue magnis. Aliquam amet ullamcorper dignissim molestie, mollis. Tortor vitae tortor eros wisi facilisis. Consectetuer arcu ipsum ornare pellentesque vehicula, in vehicula diam, ornare magna erat felis wisi a risus. Justo fermentum id.

Malesuada eleifend, tortor molestie, a a vel et. Mauris at suspendisse, neque aliquam faucibus adipiscing, vivamus in. Wisi mattis leo suscipit nec amet, nisl fermentum tempor ac a, augue in eleifend in venenatis, cras sit id in vestibulum felis in, sed ligula.

In sodales suspendisse mauris quam etiam erat, quia tellus convallis eros rhoncus diam orci, porta lectus esse adipiscing posuere et, nisl arcu vitae laoreet. Morbi integer molestie, amet suspendisse morbi, amet maecenas, a maecenas mauris neque proin nisl mollis. Suscipit nec ligula ipsum orci nulla, in posuere ut quis ultrices, lectus primis vehicula velit hasellus lectus, vestibulum orci laoreet inceptos vitae, at consectetuer amet et consectetuer. Congue porta scelerisque praesent at, lacus vestibulum et at dignissim cras urna, ante convallis turpis duis lectus sed aliquet, at et ultricies.

Next to the arrival of summer came the holidays and also the visit of an old friend: Jecca. Who landed in London to accompany William in a meeting about his project, which now has a name: The Earthshot Prize.

The Earthshot Award seeks extraordinary solutions to the world's greatest environmental challenges.

The project will be an independent charity to continue to promote global change.

Led by Prince William, as founder and president, the Earthshot Award Board of Trustees is a diverse group of individuals from around the world who bring a wealth of knowledge and passion to help boost our impact on the world.

The 3 main interests are: to protect and manage natural carbon reserves, such as peatlands and intact forests; Restoration of forests, swamps and other damaged ecosystems; Developing and expanding regenerative agriculture.

Kensington Palace

The Prince of Wales was meeting at Kensington Palace with Christiana Figueres, David Fein, Jacinda Ardern, Jean-Christophe Grey, Tokunboh Ismael, Jason Knauf, M. Sanjayan, Zoë Ware and Jecca Craig.

“What did you think?” Questioned Jacinda Ardern.

“Basically in dividing into 5, both the solutions and the operation.” William replied, making everyone pay attention to his speech.

“Right, but how?” David Fein asks.

“On my trip to Africa, I talked to Jecca about this subject and she introduced you to our idea.” said William.

“The Earthshot Award will work as follows” she began to speak and present some slides. “We will use a fair and rigorous process to research, select, accelerate, reward and scale the best and most ingenious solutions to repair and regenerate our planet, while feeding the eco-innovators and their impact.

 “Very interesting!” commented Tokunboh Ismael.

“Great!” said Zoë Ware.

“And last but not least: The award.” William smiled. “Do you want to present, Jecca?”

“No, the idea was exclusively yours, you should present it, everyone here wants to listen to you.”  Jecca declared, making everyone agree.

“Well, Earthshot will be divided into 5 awards: Protect and restore nature; Clean our air; Relive our oceans; Build a world free of garbage; Fix our climate, that is, land, air, ocean, climate, waste cleaning.”

“Great, William! I even brought an idea very similar to the one you just presented, it is organized and meets all needs.” said Jean-Christophe Grey.

“It was very good, we can start working on it.”  Christiana Figueres, completed.

Everyone agreed and ended the meeting.

Kensington Palace

Catherine entered through the doors of William's apartment and the place was silent, as she already had a free pass, no one was needed to receive her anymore.

She was on vacation and as William had a meeting, she took advantage of the day to do some shopping for the trip they were going to make. Catherine bought things for him and went straight to his room with the intention of showing him what she had bought, but she did not find him there, she then went in the direction of the office, the door was closed and as soon as she approached she could hear loud laughter.

One of them was well known, the other she had never heard.

Who was laughing with him? And why did Catherine feel a bitter taste in her mouth just listening to that sound?

Chapter 10

“I'm starting again... Promises... Chances... Secrets revealed... And all I can think of is: is it worth it? Our prince thinks so.”

On an impulse, Catherine opened the office door and the sound of laughter stopped in the middle, at least that's what it seemed to her, as soon as she laid her eyes on the scene.

A blonde woman with beautiful features was sitting in William's chair, who was standing behind her with his arms resting on the back of the chair, both looked at the computer screen, it took seconds to turn their gaze to the door and William immediately fixed his posture. The blonde girl wouldn't stop smiling.

“Kate!” he spoke surprised, and went around the table going towards the door. “Come in, love.”

“Am I disturbing something?” question Catherine.

“No, I was showing Will a video of our trip... Hi, Kate.”  interrupted the blonde. Catherine didn't look in his direction, she just stared at William furiously.

“Ah.” She took a deep breath. “Hi, Jecca.” said Catherine leaving quickly down the hall. William called her, but she pretended not to listen, so he went after her.

“Kate, stop.” William held her by the arm gently to make her stop walking.

“No.” she murmured and kept walking towards William's room, being followed by a prince who knew very well that he was in trouble.

“Love? Why all this?”  William dared to speak and heard Catherine's heavy breathing, who said nothing until they finally arrived in his room.

“You lied to me!” she said, as soon as the door closed.

“I didn't lie to you.” he replied.

“Yes, you lied! Why didn't you tell me that Jecca was coming to London? Who would stay here in your apartment? Using your office, sitting in your chair?”

“I didn't lie, I just forgot to let you know.” William tried to argue. Catherine laughed bitterly.

“Did you forget to let me know?” she asked in an ironic tone.

“Yeah, I had so much to solve from the meeting that I ended up forgetting to tell you, I didn't think I would care so much.”

“William, don't lie to me. You didn't forget to let me know, we talked EVERY day, there's no way you forgot. You only talk about this project day and night. If she's part of it, there's no way you could have forgotten.” Catherine spoke walking from one side of the room to the other, while William was motionless near the door.

“Jecca is like family, she will always be welcome here.”

“I didn't say she couldn't be welcome. I just wish I had heard about your visit here... William, the least I would like to know is if my boyfriend is hosting a girl who clearly has feelings for him in his apartment.”

“Love, stop it. I'm sorry, I should have warned you. ― William walked towards her, to take her hand. ― It was no big deal, we were just watching a video.

“She was in your chair, William! And you practically smelling her neck.” Catherine murmured with disdain, and was interrupted by knocks on the door and before she could even think, she hears William murmur "between". Jecca opened the door.

“What time are we going out?” Jecca asked looking at William. Catherine looked in disbelief at William, who turned red like a pepper.

“Ah... It's... I don't know, it's... Where's Harry? He was the one who had scheduled it.” William replied, staring at the ground.

“Are you going, Kate?” Jecca asked.

“I wasn't even invited.” She replied dryly.

“I didn't know you would need an invitation, isn't it his girlfriend?” Jecca risked, staring at her curiously.

“I'm his girlfriend, that doesn't mean we're stuck together. “ Catherine held her gaze.

“Can you excuse us, Jecca?” William intervened.

“Of course, Will.”  Jecca blinked at him and closed the door. Catherine boiled with anger.

As soon as the door closed, Catherine started laughing. A laugh of irony and anger. William looked at her confused.

“Love,” he looked at her.” we had arranged a little before you arrived, I was going to call you to pick you up, but then you showed up... I haven't even been able to talk properly yet, I have a lot of things to tell you, but you just want to fight.

“I'm not fighting...” she said as she crossed her arms, noticing that she was still carrying the bags in her hand. “I was just upset because you didn't tell me she was here, you practically dismissed me because there was a meeting and I just came here to leave the things I bought for you.”  Catherine walked to the dresser and left the bags there.”  But it's okay... It happens.

“My love, I didn't dismiss you, I said that in the afternoon I would have a meeting with the Earthshot team, and I wouldn't be able to pay attention to you, but now I'm free... Kate, I swear on my life that I was going to pick you up and would only go out if it was with you, if you went along

“It's okay. ― Catherine opened a smile.

“Really? ― William asked suspiciously.

“Yes.”

“So give me a kiss? You haven't kissed me yet.”   William approaches her and grabs her waist. Catherine just puts a quick peck in her mouth without touching it.

“I'm going to take a shower... To go out...” said Catherine and went towards the bathroom.

“I can take it...” the door closed before he even finished asking. “...Do I bathe with you?” William took a deep breath and took off his shirt. He knew he was not in a position to ask for anything, so he decided to take a shower in another bathroom, took his belongings and quickly went down the hallway.

William bathed at the speed of light so that when Catherine came out of the bath he would be waiting for him. He loved watching her get ready. And when she left the bathroom he was sitting in the armchair next to the closet, wearing dark jeans and a dark blue dress shirt, still with the buttons open. Catherine pretended she didn't even see him, passed him wrapped in the towel towards the closet. Now she already had a compartment there, and was totally oblivious to his presence, when she started to moisturize her body, William watched her, but did not dare to make any comment.

Catherine sat in front of the mirror and started doing her makeup and hair with William trying to make her laugh and saying how beautiful she is. He was already ready and had no idea what she was preparing for him. The brunette was still in a robe when she turned to observe what he was wearing and went towards the wardrobe, taking off a black dress, she had reserved that outfit for a dinner with William, but in Catherine's head that moment required a dress like that.

“Wow, love... How perfect.” he said, while admiring her from head to toe. ― I'm going to change my clothes, I want to go with you.

“You don't have to.” she said, looking at him through the mirror.

“Why? Don't you think a black pants and a white shirt look better? We would be matching.” he asked, looking at himself in the mirror, as if he were imagining the clothes.

“No.” she said coming out of the mirror. William looked at her confused.

“Kate?”

“Bye, William. Have fun with your friend Jecca.” she said, taking her bag and going towards the door

“What do you mean?!” William practically ran after her.

“3 things William,” she began to score, extremely angry. “first: I didn't know about this supposed party that you are going to, second: I wasn't even invited, third: as I said to your friend, we were not born stuck together.” Catherine looked at William's lost face.

“So let's go out just the two of us?” He asked.

“You made an appointment with her, so you're going out with her. I already have an appointment with someone else.” she spoke firmly, fixing her hair.

“What else? ― William questioned, getting angry.

“A friend. Just like you have, so do I.” she raised an eyebrow to face him.

“Kate, no... What do you mean? Who are you going out with? I'll go with you.” William was apprehensive.

“No, you're not going. You scored with Jecca and are going out with Jecca. Bye, see you tomorrow.”  Catherine spoke and closed the door and started walking quickly down the corridor. William opened the door again, still incredulous that she closed the door in his face and ran after her

“Catherine, you'll regret it. Come back here. Wait for me! I'll go with you.” William spoke sharply.

“No.”

“Please.” he held her.

“No.”

“Which friend are you going out with? Where? What time are you coming back? And why the hell can't I come along?”  William exploded in questions and Catherine held the air of laughter.

“Friends of the Museum, I'll be back here tomorrow and you've already made an appointment with Jecca. Bye, William.” she declared and began to walk towards the exit door, leaving William so shocked not knowing what to do standing in the hallway, just watching her leave.

Chelsea, London

“MY GOODNESS, WHAT A GODDESS!” August screamed when he opened the door.

“Hi, Augus!”

“Come in, Kate.” he made room for her to come in and closed the door. “You look so beautiful, but now explain to me why you don't want to go out with him.

“You have no idea who's there!” she breathed heavily and put the bag on the couch.

“Jecca?”

“How do you know?”

“I saw it on television.” August shrugged and Catherine looked at her confused.

“ On television?”

“Kate, your boyfriend is launching an environmental project... It was a report on TV about him and the other participants in the project, Jecca is one of them... Didn't you know that?”

“Yes, I... Did you know?” Catherine replied confused, because it was at that very moment that she realized that she was being a terrible girlfriend, William had already talked about all this with her at various times, but whenever he quoted Jecca, she turned off, until William stopped talking about the project. Now she felt guilty for thinking that he thought she didn't care about his work.

“What is it?”  August asked as he sat down.

“Jecca came to London, they held the meeting... He didn't tell me about it, he just told me that he had the meeting and that he couldn't see me in the afternoon, so I went shopping, bought him some shirts... And I went to take them there, when I arrive at the apartment, they are in the office, the cute one sitting in his chair and he supported behind her laughing as if they were the most beautiful and happiest couple in the world.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do?”

“I left the office and he came after me, I didn't want to argue in front of her. Then we went to the room... Can you believe she had the audacity to get there and ask William what time they were going to leave?”

“What a cow!” August said indignant. “But what do you mean William scheduled to go out with her? Work meeting, all right... Now there's something that crosses the line.”

“From what I understand, Harry would also go along, but even so... If I don't show up there, what would it be like?” “That's what pissed me off.” Catherine vented.

“I understand your frustration, Kate... But, to be honest... Don't you trust him?” August asks fearful.

“I trust William, but he just doesn't see that she does all this to be close to him, they have been friends since adolescence and she has been surrounding him for years... I don't trust her.”

“She's been trying for years and nothing ever happened... Do you think he would do something now?”

“The problem is that William doesn't see that. She simply entered the room that was lent to him at her house, without authorization and then answered the phone... Today I was there in his apartment, he lets... The free pass. Augus, I can't stand this woman... It seems that she wants to prove all the time that she has more intimacy with him than I do...”

“We're doing everything wrong!” August spoke out of nowhere, getting up.

“What?”

“She knows it affects you, now you've left William there, with her...”

“I'm sure he won't leave.”

“Why?”

“Because I got dressed in front of him and said I was going out with friends from the Museum.”

“He wanted to come with me, but I didn't let him. He stood still in the hallway with a dog face that fell from the moving truck, I almost ran back to him. ― Catherine pouted and August laughed.

“Do you plan to make him jealous?” August asked still laughing, and Arthur entered the room.

“Hello... How beautiful you are, Kate!” Arthur greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. ― Are we going out? If so, I need to get ready, I was listening to your conversation from the bedroom.

“I KNOW! ARTHUR, YOU ARE GOING TO TAKE COUPLE PICTURES WITH KATE TO MAKE WILLIAM JEALOUS!” Shouted August very excitedly.

“I'm not going to take pictures of a couple with your husband, August.”  said Catherine laughing.

“Love, I don't even know how to pose a male to take pictures with her, but even if I did, I don't think it's a good idea.” Arthur sat down, pulling August to sit with him.

“Since you've heard everything, what's your opinion?”  August questions him.

“Kate, after everything you've been through with that unmentionable worm, it's normal for you to feel insecure, but don't let it dominate you. Jecca has been with William for years, she may even have more intimacy with him, but it's you he loves. Hasn't he already taken over you? From what August told me and some things I saw on the internet, he is crazy about you. This jealousy thing, these little games only bring more problems, the best way to solve all this is by talking. Dialogue is fundamental.” said Arthur.

“He's right, Kate.” completed August.

“It's August, we've both been married for 7 years and I'm very surprised that you give her horrible advice.”  August and Catherine laughed.

“You're right! Thank you, Arthur. You're always a sweetheart.” Catherine spoke and stretched out her arm to take his hand.

“I'm here whenever you need me! You know that.”  He replied smiling and she nodded.

“Well, since we're going to stay away from all the nocturnal dangers, I'm going to order a pizza!” August spoke, making her husband and her best friend laugh.

“I want to, but I can't take long. I don't want to sleep without selving with William.” concluded Catherine.

Kensington Palace

Catherine walked out the door leaving William confused and disappointed. All he wanted was to go out with Catherine and her friends, but because of a fight that he didn't even understand how it started she was going out with other people and William had no idea what to do about it.

That Catherine did not like Jecca was clearer, but William really wanted her to understand that he could not totally exclude the woman from his life, since she is part of his project and is considered practically a member of the family. Since the last trip to Africa, he has tried to make it very clear that he had no other intentions with Jecca other than a feeling of friendship. He couldn't understand why Catherine was so angry for having witnessed a moment of friendship and complicity in his office.

William loved Catherine with all his heart and at no time thought about hiding anything from her, but since they returned from the small 'end', every time he started talking about his work, she seemed not to show interest in the subject, so in order not to upset her he was stopping talking about the project, no matter how much it was one of his favorite subjects. William has been thinking about Earthshot for years and wants to make it the project of his life and wanted so much to share it with Catherine, but he respected his decision not to want to hear about his project.

Now in his room, he began to reflect that Catherine was not the only one talking about his relationship with Jecca, he never really cared about these comments, but if it affects his relationship with Catherine, he decided that he should put a stop to it.

When Jecca knocked on his door again, he said he would not go anywhere, even though Harry insisted that he go out with them, Fergus also called trying to convince him, but all he could think of was Catherine.

William decided to get out on a motorcycle to empty his mind that was full of images of Catherine in a short dress surrounded by men looking at her, trying to convince her to dance with them, offering her drinks, asking for her phone number, wanting to touch her... A real nightmare. William was going crazy and with each new image, he accelerated even more in an attempt to erase everything from his mind. He stopped by her apartment, but the brunette wasn't at home. William chose not to go after her like a madman, his fear of scaring her was greater than his jealousy.

Feeling like a stupid teenager in love, William decided to deal with his problems in a very immature way: he went to sleep.

Later in his apartment, Catherine walked silently through the rooms holding her pair of sandals, everything was calm and dark and she was rooting for William to be home, carefully opened the door of his room and was deeply irritated for witnessing that scene.

William was lying on his stomach with only a pair of shorts from the England national team and slept so peacefully, the sound of his light and quiet breathing could be heard through the room, Catherine was finding that scene adorable, but soon her irritation by recent events invaded her mind, with the flashlight of his cell phone illuminated his face making him wake up, William woke up scared, but as soon as his eyes found hers, he smiled.

“Hi, kitty. Has it been a while since you arrived?”  William said in a sleepy voice.

“I just arrived. Didn't you go out?” she asked.

“No, love. I didn't want to go out without you.” he sat leaning his back on the head of the bed. “Did you have fun?”

“Where is Jecca?” she asked as she took off her clothes. William stared at her.

“Went out with Harry... Screw Jecca, come to bed.”  William said. Catherine raised an eyebrow and walked to the closet, he accompanied her with his eyes, Catherine chose a shirt of his and went to the bathroom and after five minutes she appeared in the room, and William was already lying down again with his eyes closed.

“William.”she called him.

“Yes?” he replied with his eyes closed.

“Nothing.” she said dryly.  “I want to lie under the covers, William, take your leg off!” he raised his leg and she sharply pulled the duvet, he turned on his side to be able to hug her as he always did, but Catherine lay on her belly up, pulling the blanket to the height of her neck, away from any contact with him, as she made no mention of approaching him, William moved until he got his body on hers, he put his right hand under the blanket and stroked her ankle, his hand went up slowly up his legs and stopped lazily on her belly, William made circular movements gently making her breathe heavily, his head William rested next to her neck.

“Kate?” William spoke softly.

“ What?”

“LOVE... Are you... still mad?” he asked softly and kissed her neck.

“No.” she replied and William looked for her hand on the bed, but she didn't want to hold his hand.

“Do you want to sleep?”

“You weren't already doing this when I arrived? You can keep sleeping and go there!” Catherine spoke pushing his hand. William took a deep breath and without saying anything turned his back to her, and in less than five minutes he slept soundly.

Catherine kept staring at the ceiling thinking about a thousand ways to solve that, he slept peacefully next to her and she wanted to hug him, but she had rejected him a few minutes ago and didn't even know why she had done that. She knew she loved William, but she was so afraid to give herself completely to him.

Fed up with those thoughts, she hit her hands on the mattress and took a deep breath, turned sideways and approached him, her right arm hugged William's body, he sighed with the touch and took his hand and holding it close to his chest, Catherine intertwined her legs with his.

“I love you.” Catherine whispered, kissing his naked back. And soon after, she accompanied him in a deep sleep.

Why are two women fighting over a lazy and dull prince?

From Richard Palmer to Daily Express

The Prince of Wales launched Earthshot to be closer to his first love: Jecca Craig? I wonder what Kate Middleton thinks about it?

&

Jecca Craig x Kate Middleton?

Which woman best suits the heir to the throne? The Prince of Wales is in a dilemma, isn't he? Choose between your longtime friend who has so many things in common or the simple teacher he met on a visit to the Museum? Which of the two will be the next Queen of England? We hope the Prince makes a good choice.

From Katie Nicholl to Vanity Fair

William opened the bedroom door with a tray in his hand and Catherine turned off the cell phone screen.

“You're already awake.” he put the tray on the furniture next to the bed.” Good morning, my love. ― said William approaching her to kiss her on the lips.

“Good morning, Wills.” she tried to smile.

“I brought breakfast,” he put a lock of her hair behind her ear. “and I wanted to talk to you.”

“Thank you,” she sat with her back resting on the head of the bed.  “have you ever had coffee?”

“Just a cup of tea, I was waiting for you.” he smiled at her, and reached for the tray, sat next to the brunette, watching all her movements and when she started eating, he asked. “Love, where did you go yesterday?”

“Ah, William... In the end, I didn't even go out, I just went to August's house, we talked and ate pizza.” she said, holding the cup close to her lips. He nodded, breathing relieved, making Catherine look at him.

“You're sad with me, that's why you went to his house? I wanted to understand where I'm going wrong, love. I know you didn't like seeing Jecca here, you don't like her, I understand that. But love, you said everything was fine, got ready and left... Leaving me like a fool, not knowing where you were going, I kept thinking a lot of shit, but I didn't want to go after you... And I'm telling you all this, not because I'm going to forbid you to leave, far from it... You can go out wherever you want, I just wanted you to tell me, I could have gone along to August's house, I like your friend, I know he's married. We could go out the four of us, just like we went out with your sister, with my brother... You know...”

“William, I was sad with you, I didn't like seeing Jecca here. I don't like that woman near you... My intention was to go out with August and Arthur to hurt you. ― William looked at her shocked. ― I'm being honest... But I went there and Arthur advised me... It's not worth it.

“What is not worth it?” he asked, sitting even closer to Catherine.

“Ah, Will.” she pushed the tray to get up, then placed the tray in the room near the bed and sat down again. William looked at her, her bright blue eyes were attentive to all the movements of the woman in front of her, she wore only a team shirt, her hair was loose and her face was without makeup, in William's eyes she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

“I want to solve this, Kate.” William spoke calmly, and pulled her for her to sit face to face with him, holding her hand. “I need you to tell me.”

“I love you, but I don't think I match your life... With the things you like, with your style... Jecca agrees. It hurts me just to imagine you with her, but that's it. I'm just a teacher, I only work at the Museum... I like art... And I entered your life by chance, she has been here for so long, she already has intimacy with you, with your family. It's the perfect match.”  Catherine said all this, staring at his hands that were intertwined with yours. His eyes were full of tears.

“Kate, no! No, no, no.” William vehemently denied it. “I want you. Just you. Why do you think that? I don't care if you are a teacher or a governor, if you are rich or poor, if you met me yesterday or twenty years ago. Whether you know my family or not. I don't care about any of that. I think you're perfect for me... Kate, look at me.” with his right hand he held her chin gently. “I love you. Why don't you let me love you?”

“I don't know... Will, these comparisons... All the time. Just today I read that you are going to launch Earthshot to be close to her.

 “That's not true... Love, don't read these articles, don't read anything. Please... They are cruel and invent everything just to make money.

“I know. I don't want to believe it, but it hurts. And you share something you really like with her. This project is your life and you share it with her.” said Catherine looking away.

“You're right... This project is my life, but do you know why? You. One day I want to marry you, have children with you... A decade after the project is launched I want to be able to look into your eyes, into the eyes of our children and say that I did my part... Kate, I work with Jecca, but I think about you. In the future with you. ― William caressed Catherine's face, staring at her with his blue eyes, trying to make her understand that he was being sincere.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she looked at him and he nodded. “I've been in love with you since college... I drew you. Several times. When I saw you at the Museum, all that feeling that was stored in my heart came to the fore, that night I went back home and looked for my old notebooks from college time, selected my favorites and had them bound. When I went to Shepherds Bookbinders to get the album, I saw you and at night you came looking for me.

“Ah, my love.” William opened such a wide smile, his eyes lit up and filled with tears.

“I feel like an idiot for just fighting with you, but I'm afraid of losing you.” said Catherine.

“You won't lose me, we'll make it work.” he pulled her for a hug. “You and me, okay?” William kissed the top of her head.

“I want you to tell me about your work, I may have given the impression that I'm not interested, but I am.” she said timidly.

“All right.” William said. She smiled and he pulled her to lie on the bed. “Now that we are well, can you please take off your clothes? Yesterday you made me feel like it. ― Catherine laughed, while William nibbled her neck.

Now that William and Catherine have talked and resolved, the day at Kensington Palace has passed quickly. Catherine finally talked to Jecca and all the disagreements were left behind.

Catherine realized that just like her, Jecca also suffered media attacks just because she was a friend of William, and as much as it was a little unfiltered, Jecca's image was much distorted, it only took ten minutes of conversation that Catherine realized how fun she was.

In the evening everyone went to a pub chosen by Harry, William's friends and cousins, Catherine's siblings and friends were also invited to the place.

Surrounded by the people they liked, music and drink were not lacking for the couple in love. William danced with Catherine all night, making it more than clear to everyone that he only had eyes for her and she for him.

Kensington Palace

“Are you ready? ― William asked.

“Only you to provide me with walks like this.” she said smiling.

“I hope you like it... It's one of the things I like to do the most... Come on, come up here.” William led her into the helicopter.

With everything ready, Catherine followed all the guidelines of William, who was more confident than ever.

Taking a helicopter tour is a unique experience, the feeling of adventure, adrenaline and freedom becomes even more indescribable if you fly over beautiful landscapes with the person you like. William drove and Catherine didn't know if she admired him or the landscape around him.

It didn't take long for them to land in Balmoral, Catherine got off the helicopter with the help of William who couldn't stop smiling.

“”It was amazing.” she said throwing her arms around his neck. “You look so beautiful all concentrated driving, I really want to see this more often.

“I'll be your private pilot.” he said, making Catherine smile and getting a passionate kiss afterwards.

Tam-Na-Ghar, Balmoral

After spending the afternoon riding a horse, getting to know the property and enjoying a picnic, William and Catherine were finally alone in a small chalet located on the grounds of Balmoral, Aberdeenshire, in the Scottish Highlands.

“This place is so beautiful.” Catherine commented, looking at everything around her.” It looks like a dream.

“You look like a dream. The most beautiful dream.”  William said staring at her.

The prince had surprised Catherine by preparing a simple but very romantic dinner. Under the candlelight, Catherine wore a red dress and her eyes shone with passion for him.

 “I have something for you, do you want to see?”   Catherine got up, taking the glass of wine with one hand and with the other pulled it so that he would also get up.

“Of course.”  he replied, taking his cup and letting himself be guided by it. Catherine walked towards the piano in the corner of the room, leaving her bowl in the corner, she sat down, William looked at her delighted without saying a word.

Without taking her eyes off William, she began to play, her skillful hands played note by note delicately and she smiled at him making everything look like slow motion. Catherine didn't read any score, she just looked at William who soon recognized the song: Those Eyes.

When the music was over, William applauded as if he had witnessed the most beautiful show in the universe and then held her by the hand to make her stand up.

“It was beautiful. You are perfect!” he said before kissing her. “I have something for you.” Catherine looked at her. William was standing in front of her and took out of the pocket of his social pants, a little black velvet box. He slowly opened the lid, revealing a ring. A traditional Victorian ring, made of rose gold and studded with garnets and pearls“

A gift to show that you are my perfect match. I want to give you this ring, to show you that I want something serious with you and plan a life by your side, it's not an official request yet, but you know... An order before the order...”.  Catherine smiled delighted at him, William could always take a smile from her at all times. “You lit up my life. I love you, Catherine Middleton.” declared William.

“You win me in every detail, I love you, William Wales. ― said Catherine, hugging her prince. “The ring is simply perfect.” William put the jewelry gently on Catherine's finger and placed a kiss on her hand. “Thank you, my love.

With a kiss, Prince William wanted to show once again all the love he felt for his future princess.

Epilogue

“"And by my law we were obliged to be happy and you were the princess I crowned and you were so beautiful to admire."”

Tam-Na-Ghar, Balmoral

It was eight in the morning and the sun lit up precariously among the clouds, a cool breeze surrounded the small chalet located inside the Balmoral property. It was practically a secret place, my secret place. That now I was sharing with Catherine and I was loving every second.

The night before, we had a romantic night, Catherine surprised me playing the piano and I gave her a ring, after this exchange of gifts we had the best night of our lives so far. The way she gave herself to me was delicious, her body fit perfectly with mine, the way she moaned my name drove me crazy, it was all so good, so perfect.

I had just woken up and my future princess was resting with me, I feel like I'm in paradise. The snow-white sheets made the perfect contrast in the naked skin of the brunette who had her body glued to mine. I feel a smile already dancing on my lips, my hand was between her breasts and I dared to caress her creamy skin, but I didn't want to wake her up. Not yet. I can feel the floral perfume emanating from your skin or hair, I can't distinguish, I have everything so close to me, my lips touch the curve of your neck and it stirs, causing a hot sensation in my body, I get excited. Catherine's body is glued to mine, her back on my chest, her perfect ass fitted deliciously to my hip, our legs bent on top of each other. She moves again. Sigh, caressing his right breast, my hand covers him all over. Catherine wakes up.

“You've already woken up...” Catherine grumbles, stretching, I feel your ass on my member. This gives me goosebumps all over my body.

“I just woke up, my kitten. Good morning!” I say and put kisses on your neck, my hand that was on your breast goes to your hip to make more pressure, I feel Catherine rubbing against me.

“Love, no. I want to sleep more.” she says in a sleepy voice. I can't stop smiling, she didn't seem to want to sleep.

“Sleep, my love.” I speak, taking my hand off your body to take your hand. She intertwines her hand in mine. Perfection. I'm I snuggle on the pillow, some of your hair is on my neck and shoulder, but I don't care. Everything is silent and I can imagine that there are only the two of us in the world, I start randomly thinking about how it all started and how good it is to be with her. The calm takes over my being, but I can't close my eyes, Catherine starts to slowly move her ass, she was already excited, now I get completely hard. I hear your laughter filling the room and also a part of my heart. “Wouldn't you sleep a little longer?” I ask, smiling too.

“I think there are better things to do...” she says shaking my hand and prancing even more towards my member. “Don't you think?”

“I think!” I go down my hand to her center, noting with shudder that she was wet, I can't contain a moan. “You're already wet.” I gently start making circular movements in the region she likes the most.

“So nice to wake up next to you and now... Ah, William.” the way she moans, drives me crazy. I increase the speed of my hand's movements, as it turns its neck to meet my lips. She moans in my mouth. “How delicious.” I feel one of her hands touching my penis, her hand is warm and soft, I hold my breath in anticipation of what she will do.

She passes the head of my cock at its entrance, gathering all the moisture, I bite my lip to contain a moan. Catherine shakes, moaning, driving me crazy. I stretch my arm towards the bedside table, open the first drawer and remove a condom. Catherine takes the package from my hand, opening the small package, she puts it on my member.

“Right on the side.” she presses the head of my cock in her entrance. “That's it! Oh, Kate.” I say while she sighs delighted.

“Oh love.” she descends slowly on my member, I hear a little scream coming out of her lips, when I completely filled her.

“You're so tight. So hot.” I say between my teeth. I start that famous dance back and forth, at this angle I can feel the entire length of Catherine's butt coming from meeting my hip. My hands walk through her body, between her breasts, her flat belly and between the middle of her legs, looking for her clitoris, I kiss her neck and feel her whole body shiver, the sounds that come out of her mouth are a clear sign that she is almost reaching the apex. I already know Catherine's body, I know what she likes, I increase the speed and feel her shudder, with my right hand I caress her breast and with my left, I make circular movements on her clitoris making her fall apart in pleasure, moaning my name. My greatest perdition.

Catherine walks away, leaving my hard member missing her. She turns and opens an angelic smile, but her eyes... Ah, her eyes are of pure lust. Before I could do anything, she spreads her legs around my hip, positioned my cock again at her entrance, with one last look, she sits down.

“Fuck!” my hands flew to her hip. And she starts riding on me, in a delicious way, I close my eyes and I can't think of anything else.

“Oh, my love!” she moans. “Open your eyes.” I obey what she says and open my eyes, and I almost fall apart at that exact moment. The room is only illuminated by the faint rays of sun that appear through the light-colored curtain, the whole chalet has a somewhat rustic decoration, the room would not be different. And at that moment I know that he perfectly matches the woman who is riding on top of me. Catherine is literally riding on me, her hair loose, falling on her back, her hands are resting on her thigh and her small breasts jump as she swings, they are bristling, her skin is goosebumps with pleasure and when I look at her face, I fall in love even more. His eyes are staring at me fiercely and his mouth is open in a perfect "o", emitting delicious sounds. Catherine is a true work of art, a goddess. For a moment I get lost in this cloud of pleasure, completely hypnotized by her, I know I'm going to cum. But I refuse to cum before her. I stretch my hand to touch her, I know I won't take much with her on top of me, I hold her hip to stop her movements and change position, but Catherine won't let me, pushing my hand away from her body. Obviously I let her do whatever she wants with me. The room is flooded only by the sound of our bodies shocking and the moans that come out of our mouths. Catherine climbs her hands up my abdomen to my neck, her right hand squeezes my neck gently, making me smile. She smiles at me, and I take the opportunity to hold her more firmly in my arms, I take the reins of the situation and start to penetrate her at a faster speed, I'm almost cumming. My left hand pulls Catherine closer to me, I feel her breasts over my chest, her mouth close to mine, my tongue goes around her mouth and she kisses me. A kiss full of horniness and lust, I realized that it is the first kiss this morning. I feel her squeeze around me, I accelerate my movements, she lets go of my arms, moaning with pleasure.

“Oh, William, my love.” she closes her eyes, delighting in pleasure and with this image I follow her in a ravishing orgasm.

Catherine gets off of me and lies on the bed, trying to catch her breath. I take off the condom, tie it and put it on the bedside table to throw it away later. I look at Catherine and she starts laughing.

“What is it, kitty?” I ask.

“I want to go to the coffee shop you talked about yesterday, I'm hungry.”she talks, while caressing my chest. I smile

“Come on, my love. Whatever you want.” I say, and she leans over to kiss me. A calm, sweet kiss. Perfect.

“Will...” she looks at me. ― you're everything I've ever wanted.

“Kate, you are everything I dreamed of.” I put a kiss on your hand adorned with a rose gold ring, full of meanings, as well as our love.

#cambridgepride #alifelessface

[aeoki]

SS Finals - Epilogue 2

Location: SS Stage (fine) Characters: Touri, Yuzuru, Eichi & Wataru

Eichi: “Gatekeeper” and “Priest”. I don’t know what sort of ties the two confidants of an individual, who was once declared to be a god, have between them.

But it seems Nagisa-kun had “Gatekeeper” leave in exchange for handing over “Priest”.

He gave him a sacrifice in order to drive away the evil ghost.

“Gatekeeper” accepted Nagisa-kun’s conditions and withdrew as agreed. That was rather unexpected. He’s surprisingly faithful.

Yuzuru: Perhaps Ran-sama did a rather good job with the negotiations.

Eichi: Who knows? It’s possible Nagisa-kun handed him something else other than “Priest” in exchange for asking him to retreat, though.

Even I wouldn’t know what that is.

“Gatekeeper’s” initial goal was money. He should have made a plan to snatch the profits ES was producing, now that ES had grown into such a large entity.

That’s why I had intended on settling things with “Gatekeeper” with money in the end.

I’d ask him to step away from the country and the idol industry with funds from the Tenshouin Zaibatsu.

I don’t want to make a deal with the mafia, but it can’t be helped in the worst-case scenario.

I was going to negotiate with him and say that it would be better if I took out that large sum of money and gave it to him instead of watching him leech off idols endlessly like a parasite.

If he wouldn’t agree to that, then I’d use all the efforts of the Tenshouin Zaibatsu to crush his organisation. I intended on bluffing and saying that I’d be prepared to have an all-out war.

He knows how to calculate the advantages and disadvantages, so he would have retreated if I stood my ground.

But that wasn’t even necessary and he left all satisfied the moment he had “Priest” in his hands.

I wanted to be completely sure, so I approached him with an offer to lend him some money.

I’d make him promise that he won’t lay his hands on us ever again in exchange.

This was his answer:

“I don’t need that small change.”

He gained something even more important than money and left the country satisfied. I fully understand that now.

Yuzuru: In that case, I’m curious to see what “Priest” means to him. It appears they were both confidants of an individual.

Eichi: Perhaps “Gatekeeper” thought of him as his arch-enemy that he had to confront.

It was enough to make him put everything else on hold as he finished him off.

I don’t know about the details there, but it’s true I do think it was a shame that I couldn’t have made him promise to never touch the idol industry ever again.

He might attack us if we showed him our weakness once more. Things somehow worked themselves out this time, but who knows what will happen in the future? We should do our best to be careful.

ES is my dream castle that I built with my blood, sweat and tears – It would be unbearable to see it all destroyed so easily.

Yuzuru: I, too, shall lend you my assistance.

Only if that’s what my master still wishes, of course.

Eichi: Who knows? Maybe Touri has grown tired of me now. I’ve always prioritised myself and paid absolutely no attention to his feelings.

No matter how many times he desperately did his best to make me pay attention to him, he never got what he wanted. That stress drove him into a corner.

Yuzuru: If you’re aware of that much, then I think it would be best if you changed your behaviour in the future.

Fortunately, a “future” very much exists.

Eichi: ………?

Yuzuru: I’m sure the idol industry will continue to flourish in the future, free of disasters and pests.

We “fine” are outstanding idols selected to participate in “SS” – and the public knows of our skills.

And I’m proud to say this, but no matter what sort of misfortune befalls the Young Master, he won’t give in to it. I don’t remember raising such a coward.

Touri: Yuzuru~! Eichi-sama~!

Eichi: …Touri.

Touri: Sorry! I was resting the entire time at Hiyori-sama’s place! I was unconscious and don’t really remember, so I have no idea what’s going on, though!

Everything was over when I woke up…! Uuu~ I’m so sorry for doing that during such an important time.

Wataru: Hehehe ♪ There is no need to apologise! You haven’t done anything wrong, Hime-kun!

Besides, it’s not over just yet… Isn’t that right, everyone?

Yuzuru: Hibiki-sama, I apologise for the trouble. I see you have brought the Young Master here.

Wataru: Yes! Nagisa-kun contacted me! He told me he wanted me to pick Hime-kun up, so I rushed right on over!

Touri: He was stuck on the ceiling and fell to the ground all of a sudden, so that gave me a huge fright… Why are you always so over-the-top?

Wataru: Because I’m an entertainer ☆

Eichi: Hehe. I see you’ve gotten closer to Nagisa-kun before I had noticed.

Wataru: We worked together before! As “Altissimo”!

Besides, he must have believed I would pick up Hime-kun in a normal fashion, unlike you – who would do something unnecessary and come up with some sort of scheme…

Or Mr Butler, who would go on a rampage because of how much he had missed Hime-kun. 

Eichi: You don’t act based on advantages and disadvantages, after all. On the other hand, you would make a trustworthy dealer who wouldn’t accumulate his remuneration and betray others.

…I’m sure that’s exactly why “Gatekeeper” used you as the point of contact.

Wataru: Oh? So you noticed? He indeed tried to use me to control you, Eichi!

Yuzuru: Well, Eichi-sama would certainly listen to Hibiki-sama.

Wataru: Eichi loves me dearly, after all! In fact, it was proven during “SANCTUARY” that my behaviour can be perceived as more important than necessary…

So it was difficult deciding what to say and what not to say! Amazing!

Yuzuru: You love a troublesome person and you’re also loved back by that troublesome person. Isn’t that right, Hibiki-sama?

Wataru: Indeed. That part of him is just so lovely…☆

Touri: How nice… I wanna be loved by Eichi-sama that much too ♪

Yuzuru: Is my love insufficient, Young Master!?

Touri: Actually, you gotta hold back, Yuzuru. I’m gonna drown. I heard from Saegusa-senpai that you did a lot of reckless things when you were searching for me.

Yuzuru: That thing only spouts lies, so there is no need to believe his words!

Touri: Don’t talk about him like that~ He’s your important childhood friend, right?

Oh, then he’s like what Tsukasa is to me. That’s why you’d put it that way. I see.

Eichi: I understand too. Childhood friends are like siblings. It’s fine for you to make fun of them, but it’s irritating when you see others do it.

I’d hate to force myself to get all chummy with him, though.

Touri: It’s complicated, right? Ehehe, so there is something we share in common. I think I might even be grateful to Tsukasa for that.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

#ss finals

[annaphoenix1994]

Masterlist Here:

Epilogue - Part Two - Farming, for Beginners

The following night and early morning was nothing but normal for John as he awoke with a bitter taste in his mouth after verbally fighting with Abigail. She would never know it, but she had squeezed John's heart in a number of ways that he could not describe. Wiping his eyes, he took Abigail's arm that was draped over his stomach and nudged it closer to its owner. He wanted nothing to do with her for the next few days as her words dug into him like a knife. 'Did she really mean that?' He thought. If her theory was true, he would not know how to continue on with his love for her.

Knowing work would ease his mind of its busy thoughts, he prepared himself for the day, leaving the cabin in silence as waking Abigail would easily lead to another argument. 

"Hey, Milton, can you give me a hand with this fence?" He heard Mister Dickens shout from the fence line bordering the main road. 

"Sure." 

"Know much about fence building?"

"Not really." John shrugged. 

"Can't build a fence, can't milk a cow, ain't used to shoveling shit, but took on a gang of robbers single-handed." 

"Guess we all got our peculiarities, Mister Dickens."

"What was you doin' before you came here?"

"I told ya. My wife got cheated out of inheritance, we was in a legal dispute... It was a bad time."

"Sounds awful, but I guess I don't believe a word of it." 

"I was raised to take a man at his word and also to believe that this is a free country. So free, that I can't tell you what to think, so I guess it don't much matter what you believe. But I will work hard and I learn fast."

"Okay," Mister Dickens chuckled. "Gimme a hand with this fence, then."

John nodded, helping Mister Dickens hoist the fence post into a standing position before easing it down into the pre-dug hole, the old ranch hand passing off his mallet to John. "Here. There's plenty more to do. Pound the top of that post with the mallet. We don't want it coming down. After that, grab a rail and line it up with the notch and place it in," Mister Dickens explained, watching John labor a deep sigh as he made himself pick up the heavy rails by himself. "You're doing okay. Now go to the next post and pound that in. I hope you grasped the basics, I got other matters to attend to, but there's more than a day's work here for you. Just follow along the road here. You'll see where I already pre-dug the holes this morning where the ground was still moist. The main goal is gettin' this whole ranch surrounded by a fence."

"Okay. I'll get to it." 

"Thank you, John Jim." Mister Dickens teased. 

Sweat poured from John's forehead as he continued his day's labor, getting to the north side of the ranch with his fence building, stopping at the front of the cattle corral as there was a space left for a security gate. 

"Jim Milton, over here! Put that fence down and get over here boy!" He heard Mister Dickens shout from the cattle corral. 

Rushing to the corral, he saw Mister Dickens and two men unsuccessfully holding an enraged Hereford bull. 'Ah, shit...' He mumbled to himself, knowing not much about containing livestock, but knowing well enough that a bull could not be controled by men on foot. 

"Give us a hand. You know much about bulls, Milton?" 

"Just the basics. Don't make 'em mad."

"Angus Geddes, this is Jim Milton." Mister Dickens introduced. 

"Mister Milton." Angus nodded. 

"Angus is your boss' son."

"Nice to meet you, now let's try and move this great hunk of chuck. Let me go get my horse."

"No, th-there's no time for that, Mister Milton-" Angus tried to explain, putting just enough slack in the rope to give the bull leverage in his rage. The Hereford bucked and thrashed his head, his horn picking up the young man and slinging him like a ragdoll against the corral before snorting and turning towards the remaining men that were standing, looking between them in favor of who would be next on the bull's list of carnage. 

"I'm gonna go get my horse! Mister Dickens, we need to rope him as a team. You can't just lead a bull by his neck!" John said before sprinting off to his borrowed mare, in which he was confident that the horse could do anything he asked. He tightened the front and back cinch as well as snugging the breast collar before mounting the mare, taking his lariat from the keeper and building a large loop, nudging the mare to canter towards the bull. "Get on your horse, Mister Dickens! I'll rope his head and you rope his back legs, alright?" 

"I-I don't know if we should do that, Milton! He'll drag us over this whole ranch with our horses!" 

"No he won't. Not if you get his heels and I have his head. We can drag him right back in!" John argued. "What? Can't rope?" He taunted. 

Mister Dickens raised his brow at the jab, the other two men chuckling at him, knowing he would have to accept the challenge. "I can rope, Mister Milton." 

"Well, c'mon, then. What kind of ranch hand are ya if ya can't rope?" He teased. 

"I'll be right back." 

John chuckled at Angus, seeing him holding his leg in discomfort, "He get ya?" 

"Just a bit. I think I can walk it off." 

"Good. I suggest getting behind that fence until we catch him." John advised. 

"You're just like an old time cowboy, aren't you?" 

"Not necessarily, just a survivor, I guess." John shrugged, turning his head towards the heavy hoofbeats, seeing Mister Dickens loping his Belgian Draft horse towards him. "You think we're ropin' an elephant?" John continued to tease. 

"Gotta be prepared for the occassion, Mister Milton. When that fourteen hand high mare goes down to be drug by that bull, I don't want to hear no fuss." He teased back. 

"I doubt that, Mister Dickens." 

"Well, let's see it then." 

"Alright. I'll rope his head and you rope his heels, alright? Once we get the rope on him, he'll fall down and we can drag him back into the corral." 

"I'll follow your lead, Milton." 

The pair cantered their horses towards the raging bull, spooking him in the process. Luckily, he failed to run too far as John got a lucky swing and built a loop big enough to go around the bull's horns, dallying the loose lariat to the saddle horn and turning his mare to the left, knocking the bull off balance. Mister Dickens had to take a couple of extra swings to feed the loop around the bull's hind legs, finding it rather difficult to pull the slack of his lariat as the bull continued to buck. After a few curse words and yanking on his horse's mouth to stop and back up to pull tension on the rope, Mister Dickens finally had paired with John in a successful team rope. 

"Thank you, Mister Milton." Angus thanked as John and Mister Dickens drug the bull into the barn, dismounting their horse and taking tension off of the lariat to loosen the loop, letting the bull move to stand on his own balance before Mister Dickens shut the stall door the bull had been taken to. 

"My pleasure. That was quite fun," John chuckled, proud of himself for feeling like he was of use for once without someone yelling at him. "There he is." 

"See you later, Jim Milton." Mister Dickens nodded, leading his horse by the reins. 

"See you after a while, Mister Dickens. I'll leave you to your privacy to learn how to rope." He teased. 

"Yeah, yeah," Mister Dickens scoffed. "You did rather good, Mister Milton. Fine job." 

"Thank you." 

"We'll make a rancher of you yet." The other ranch hand commented.

"I hope so." 

"Don't sweat it, son. All these men talkin' all wise comes from years of experience and they got it the same way you are right now." 

"That's an interestin' way of putting it." 

"Don't think on it too much." 

#arthurmorgan #minniebarlow #reddeadredemption2 #rdr2 #rdr2fanfiction

[ahundredtimesover]

Fight for You Epilogue (07)

​07: When you miss dinner

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: established relationship - FFY couple; slight angst, hurt/comfort (18+)

Warnings: insecurities, implied anxiety, mentions of sex

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: I finally get to write the “someone misses dinner” storyline that I love! Also an excuse to imagine wet-haired JK in a black zip-up hoodie being the sweetest thing. Again, please excuse my lack of knowledge of business matters.

And the biggest thank you again to Ash @jimilter​ for this banner. 🥺🥰 That forehead kiss and this JK is giving me the feels. To everyone, please be kind to yourself. 💜

Epilogue Series Masterlist || Previous || Next

##

“What would it be, Ms. Lee?”

In all the years that you’ve been working for your family’s company, dating back to when you were an intern at 20 years old, this is perhaps your most feared question. 

What would it be? 

It feels so heavy, so full of responsibility; there’s so much room for a win and just as much potential for a loss.

You look at the faces staring back at you - all executives - waiting for your response. And you try your best to keep a calm and confident demeanor, as you know that doing so adds to your credibility, to their respect for you, if there’s even any to begin with that isn’t tied to you being their boss’ daughter.

“Give me until Monday,” you state.

“With all due respect, Ms. Lee, we’ve been holding back on this deal for far too long. Any more delay and the loss will be much greater than what we’re prepared for,” someone says.

“We just received the risk assessment report 2 days ago, Mr. Hong,” you respond. 

“Yes, that you asked to be revised because the first one didn’t meet your standards, as if you’d been reading those kinds of reports for a long time and let’s be honest, you haven’t,” Mr. Chung retorts, clearly the one whose acceptance level of you is still in the 30% range. 

“We have, and as we advised, it’s safe to move forward, as many of us have expressed,” he continues, looking impatient and unimpressed.

“Half,” you correct him. “Half of you expressed moving forward and the other half wants more time. I merely think it’s a more sound and responsible decision to weigh our options—“

“We only have 2 options,” he interjects. “Proceed or not, and you haven’t been able to make up your mind all week and you haven’t given any other options that we could work with. Your father would be able to decide on the spot or lay out other plans.”

“My father has been doing this for half his life, Mr. Chung,” you state, your tone getting sharper and a little more annoyed by the second. “I haven’t been on this that long and—“

“Yet you are the one in command, how unfortunate,” he counters. “Such big responsibility for someone with so little experience.”

“That’s enough, Mr. Chung,” another one says. “Mr. Lee, our President, assigned Ms. Lee to be in charge. Let’s at least respect that, shall we?”

You sit there frozen, suddenly much more insecure than you were when you called this meeting 3 hours ago. It was supposed to end at 6 but you couldn’t get the group to agree, couldn’t find a middle ground, couldn’t get a clear decision out, and you can’t help but feel smaller and smaller, as if you already didn’t. 

Your father has been gone for a month to do his annual rounds in your satellite offices in North America and the rest of Asia, leaving you to oversee certain matters with the guidance of his trusted advisors. But this deal is one he specifically asked you to manage, and while it excited you at first, it’s given you nothing but a headache. 

It’s not clear-cut and it’s definitely one of the more challenging ones. It needs more discernment, attention to detail, and maybe a risk-taking attitude, and you’re too wary to make the final decision, knowing that whatever it is you make, certain people won’t be happy, and there will be some loss, one way or another. 

What’s worse is that you have to face all these people - mostly men and some of whom aren’t big fans of yours - on a daily basis, as if it’s not enough that they question your decision-making ability everyday. 

Your name is called again and you’re broken out of your temporary haze of self-doubt and you look back at them. It’s not easy to decide, especially when it’s going to be on you if things don’t work out, and these people could easily be setting you up for failure. 

So that not-so-impulsive and careful part of you puts its foot down.

“Give me until Monday. You may all leave,” you say firmly and head out to go back to your room, quickly enough not to hear the mumbling of the executives and the terrible things they could be saying about you.

You cover your face with your hands as you sit on your office chair and curse everything in existence. You haven’t felt this small and ineffective since you took the marketing department manager post when you got back from grad school years ago. You feel so useless and not worthy of respect of the people you need because much as you dislike the man, Mr. Chung is right - you don’t have that much experience yet, but you’re being given all this responsibility.

But again, that’s precisely why. Skill isn’t just acquired overnight. You still have much to learn, to experience, to figure out. It’s unfair you’re being put on a pedestal like this, but you also know it’s expected. You’re the successor, and you need to prove to everyone, including your parents, that you deserve it.

Your phone rings and you see Jungkook’s name on the screen, and you suddenly remember that you haven’t responded to his text from this morning - or was that last night? You feel too tired to answer, knowing he’ll sense right away that something is bothering you, and you just don’t have that kind of energy. 

But his name is immediately replaced by your father’s, and you want nothing more than to disappear right this moment.

“Father? Is everything—“

“You still haven’t decided?” He sighs in exasperation. “It’s a go or no-go, ___. We’re losing something either way so just…”

“They tattled on me already, huh?” You scoff.

“This isn’t middle school, ___. There’s no tattling here. They reported to me, as they are required to,” he responds sternly. “And while I agree that Mr. Chung was disrespectful to you and me, I’d rather dwell on the stalling, because people’s claims of you will always be present for as long as you don’t get to prove yourself yet.”

“I know, father, but it’s just—“

“Do you?” He asks. “I’m giving you all these opportunities to show your capabilities and be more responsible but you’ve just been too soft and indecisive every time.”

The words hurt, you won’t lie, as it’s the first time your father had been this direct of his disappointment towards you since he announced the succession plans. 

“Don’t make them doubt you even more, because that decreases my credibility just the same,” he continues at your silence. “Make that decision early on Monday, whatever it is, you hear me?”

“Yes, father,”  you say softly, then he hangs up. 

You wipe the tears that fall, thankful that at least for a Friday night, there isn’t anyone left in the office from your team. You can play your music as loud as you can, drown the sounds of your phone ringing because you just don’t have the desire to pick up anything, cry if you want, scream if you want. So you do all that.

Until someone knocks on your door.

“Oh, Mi-Seon, hi,” you force a smile at one of the managers from your father’s support team, whom you also work very closely and frequently with. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she smiles and invites herself inside. “Is everything okay?” She cocks an eyebrow.

“Take a guess,” you chuckle. “When do I willingly spend a Friday night alone in the office?”

“Hmm, when you’re waiting for someone to come in and bring a bottle of wine?” She winks and presents one of your favorite reds.

Your eyes widen in amusement. “You’re a lifesaver.”

She laughs and takes a seat in front of you, and you immediately consume a half glass of wine, unbothered by your empty stomach and incredibly drained out brain. You spend the next hour and a half talking to her about what transpired, the intricacies of the deal that she’s also well-aware of, and this new course of your life that’s both exciting and terrifying.

It’s almost 10PM by the time you finish your self-loathing session, signaled by Mi-Seon spraying some mist on your flushed face and pulling you from your chair and pushing you out the door so you could finally go home.

You do as you’re forced, checking your phone on the way to the lobby and seeing Jungkook’s multiple where are you messages. It’s one of his favorite things to send you, at least for the past few weeks. The others are along the lines of have you eaten or did you take your vitamins or have you taken a break yet.

You know he means well but you just feel like you’ll get a scolding because every time he asks those, the answer that you say in your mind is always a no. Even with asking where you are, it’s because you promised you wouldn’t stay late in the office as you've been doing, and you know he’ll be upset with you being here again. And you just don’t want to deal with it.

You find yourself not wanting to deal with much, actually. There’s so much weighing heavily on you and you feel like you can’t be your best for anything or anyone right now.

People are going through their own things, you remind yourself. Part of the growing up that you need to do to be worthy of your position is learning how to deal with things on your own. No one else can help you anyway, so why bother letting them in? 

It’s too much for others to deal with, especially when all you’d probably do is rant about the stress and about the executives who don’t like you and the little mistakes you’re making and how those are making you more annoyed with yourself. You don’t feel like your most likeable version right now and you don’t want others to fall into that hole with you.

You enter the car and ask Mr. Sim to drive-thru at a McDonald’s, and you nibble on your burger and fries and eventually give up because your earlier alcohol intake and the kind of stress you have now have caused you to lose your appetite. 

Even your interest in things has dwindled.

It’s past 11 by the time you get home, and you want nothing more than to have your hot bath and lie in bed and sleep for as long as you can just to rid yourself of the embarrassment from tonight.

You get to the kitchen and see Mrs. Hwang washing the dishes. A pot of dumpling soup and a plate of braised beef lay on the counter. With your erratic schedule, you told her to assume you wouldn’t be eating home unless you tell her you will, and you knew today would be a long one so you hadn’t said anything, and now you’re curious as to why she had dinner so late.

“Hi, Mrs. Hwang,” you greet.

She turns to you with crestfallen eyes.

“Hi, sweetie. Another late night, huh?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Decided to drive-thru for dinner because I haven’t eaten since breakfast and I didn’t even finish it.”

“You… You had dinner already?”

“Yeah. It was such a long day,” you say, feeling like crying again. “Did you just have dinner? And cooking my comfort food without me, too?” You pout.

“No, sweetie. This wasn’t mine,” she walks towards you. “Jungkook made all this. He said you two were supposed to have dinner tonight.”

“We what?” You ask, partly shocked and partly confused.

You turn to the dining table that’s been set up nicely with flowers. You check your phone and scroll past Jungkook’s where are you messages from 6:30PM and see the one from Wednesday when he asked you if you could have dinner on Friday after your meeting ends at 6 and you said yes. And then the one from last night when he reminded you and you confirmed. And then this morning again. 

You’d been mindlessly replying to his messages, and your replies haven’t even been making sense, probably because you haven’t been properly processing them nor even paying attention. 

And you suddenly feel worse than you did when you were in that meeting room hours ago.

“Has he left?”

“No, I told him to rest in your room first,” she sighs. “He clocked in early at work today so he could come here and cook and he just looked so tired.”

Great. Another thing you’re failing miserably at. You can’t even give your own boyfriend the time of day.

You make it up the stairs and into your room. You find a pile of his clothes on your bed next to a luggage bag, and your heart sinks at the sight.

While Jungkook doesn’t exactly live with you, he’s been spending more time in your place than before, and that has much to do with your many, usually ridiculous, reasons and schemes for him to stay the night, including hiding his clothes in various parts of your room. It’s safe to say that more than half of his wardrobe is in your house, and they magically appear when he finally agrees to sleep over.

As it turns out, he’s known all along where they’re hidden. You’re either terrible at hiding, or he just knows you too well.

But he’s packing his bag, and it seems like he’s taking most of his clothes with him.

He exits your closet with a set of his workout clothes and walks to your bed to place them in the bag, not even sparing you a glance. You stand there and you don’t exactly know what to do.

“I…” You stammer, unsure how to start a conversation you’re not sober enough nor even ready to have, until you feel that awful sting in your stomach go up your throat, and you run to the bathroom and get to the toilet in time.

If you didn’t smell of alcohol earlier, now you do. You kneel on the floor and puke as much of the wine as you can, feeling weaker and weaker by the second.

You hear footsteps inside and feel a hand rubbing circles on your back, but you don’t miss the scoff as Jungkook smells it, and you know he’s got a disappointed look on his face. You sit on the floor after being rid of half of the bottle you consumed earlier, and you’re immediately faced with napkins and a glass of water.

You take them and focus elsewhere, unable and unwilling to look at Jungkook. 

“You didn’t eat all day, did you?”

You don’t respond.

“You only puke when you drink too much or when you drink on an empty stomach,” he says coldly. “You’re conscious and mobile, which means you barely ate today, that's why you’re not feeling well.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, so confidently, that it actually annoys you.

“Why? Meeting didn’t go well? The directors disrespecting you again? Work becoming too much? So you went ahead and drank without having eaten and with barely any rest, expecting everything will be okay?”

You meet his piercing eyes with your own, and you no longer hide your irritation, which really is just masking your own embarrassment. You gargle the remaining water, spit it out, then head out the bathroom.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Jungkook,” you tell him. “I don’t have the energy for your scolding.”

“Clearly. You haven’t been replying to my messages so you obviously don’t wanna hear from me at all.”

He returns to packing, and you want so badly for him to stop but you’re also too stubborn to do so.

“Taking all your stuff and leaving me now?” You say after a while, restraining yourself from putting all of his clothes back in your drawers.

He shrugs with his back turned, seemingly uninterested to look at you.

“Why bring up the idea of moving in with you so you could spend more time with me if you’re not even gonna spend time with me…”

“That’s not true,” you defend, suddenly feeling bad at the thought. “I—“

“I made dinner and you didn’t even show up.” He now faces you. “You said yes. You confirmed. And you just… don’t even care that you missed it.”

“Well, I didn’t ask you to make dinner,” you cross your arms. 

“That’s the thing though, you don’t ask me for anything anymore. You don’t ask to see me, to spend time with me, to have sex, to—”

“So that’s what this is? You’re upset because we don’t have sex,” you retort, wanting to get the upper hand but his face catches you off guard.

He has a defeated look, like he, too, doesn’t have energy for this, doesn’t want to deal with this. Doesn’t want to deal with you.

“You know that’s not what I meant but if that’s what you want to believe, then fine,” he says with a low voice.

He zips his bag while you stand there, unmoving, too proud to do anything, to say what you really mean - that you’re upset and you don’t know what to do with yourself.

He walks towards you but you refrain from looking back at him.

“You know I’m just here for you,” he huffs. “But I also know when I’m not wanted. It’s been hard on me, too and I don’t want to get angry. I love you and I want to be there for you but if you don’t want me around, that’s okay. I’ll give you time if that’s what you need. I’ll stay over at my place first, alright? I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”

And he shifts so he could give you a forehead kiss, then he walks out the door. You could hear his tired and dragging footsteps down the stairs while you continue to stand there, the tears no longer able to hold themselves back. 

**

The terrible day just won’t end.

You puke again, and as the alcohol drains from your system, there’s more clarity, and you realize as the seconds pass by how unfair you’d been. All Jungkook has been is supportive. He knows how you are when you’re stressed, how you tend to seek perfection to a fault, please others, and in the process, forget about yourself. 

But you constantly push him away, even when you know you need him.

Mrs. Hwang enters the bathroom and promptly prepares your hot bath. You cry again at the sight of the dumpling soup she’s brought, and even more when she feeds you while you sit in the tub.

“He was so excited about this,” she says with a soft smile. “He constantly redid the dumplings because they were too big for you to chew.”

“I even argued with him and said I didn’t ask him to make me dinner,” you sob. “And now he’s gone and probably doesn’t want to see me again.”

“Hey, sweetie. That’s not true,” she wipes your tears. “You know he won’t be able to survive without you, especially now. I mean, with his father reaching out, it’s been—“

“What?” You exclaim. “His father has been reaching out?”

Her sullen eyes tell you enough - if she knows, then Jungkook probably told you, and you most likely weren’t paying attention.

“Just last week. Jungkook probably didn’t want to bother you because you’ve been so stressed,” she comforts. 

“No, he’d tell me,” you insist. 

But then again, whether he told you or not doesn’t matter - you weren’t there for him; and the truth is, you haven’t been. 

It’s a long proper dinner and bath, and you savor each dumpling you eat, knowing it was made with so much love that you probably don’t even deserve. You dress up in your most comfortable loungewear, wrap yourself in your softest blanket, and hope to the heavens that sleep overtakes you soon - restart, redo, recover when you wake up.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Mrs. Hwang wipes your tears. “You know he won’t be able to stay upset for long. Just get some sleep. It’ll be okay in the morning.”

You try, but it just won’t happen.

**

It’s probably not the smartest thing to be standing outside of your boyfriend’s apartment at 4 in the morning on a chilly spring night, but here you are. 

You snuck out of your house and was too absentminded to bring your key to Jungkook‘s place, but then again, inviting yourself in might not even bode well with him, given that he did leave.

So you stand there for another minute as your lips continue to quiver, and you try to think of what to do if the door doesn’t open in the next 5 minutes, but miraculously, it does.

“___?” Jungkook says, peeking behind you to perhaps greet Mr. Sim who isn’t anywhere to be found.

“How did you get here?” He exclaims, pulling your shivering body inside and shutting the door.

“Cab…” you say softly.

“___, what were you thinking?! At this hour?! Do you know—“

Your hug stops him, and you tighten your hold around his waist and whisper, “can you do the scolding later, please? I just…”

And at this, every ounce of sadness and hurt in Jungkook’s body melts away.

He wraps his arms around you and with you tiptoeing as your face nestles in the crook of his neck, you sob.

“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” you choke on your words. “I was being so stubborn and difficult and stupid. I’m sorry for forgetting about dinner.”

You become more breathless as your cries get louder, and Jungkook holds you closer as you do.

“Hey, angel. It’s okay. It’s been a tough few months, I know,” he comforts.

“It’s not okay,” you insist.

“It is.”

“It’s not!” You face him with a pout. “I was being such a brat and keeping things in and—“ you hiccup. 

“Shh, angel,” he cups your face and kisses your forehead. “Let’s get you water.”

He sits you on the chair and looks at you tenderly as you finish the glass.

Kneeling on the ground, he asks, “do Mr. Sim and Namjoon know you’re here?”

You shake your head.

He frowns at you but laughs right after, and immediately gets his phone to send texts to them and Mrs. Hwang so as not to make them lose their minds at the sight of your empty bed in the morning. 

You follow Jungkook to the couch. You straddle him and bury your face in his neck again, inhaling his fresh scent and damp hair.

“Did you just shower? Why are you awake?” You sniff.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admits, “so I was doing a bit of exercise. I was dressing up when you rang the doorbell.”

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” You face him.

“Why couldn’t you?” He counters.

“Because I’m sad and mad at myself because I missed dinner and I missed you.”

“Didn’t seem like it earlier,” he chuckles.

“Hey!” You furrow your brows, on the verge of tears again. “I didn’t mean what I said,” you pout this time. 

“I know,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to scold you or anything. I’m just worried about you because I know how you are when you’re stressed. You get sick easily, you don’t eat, you don’t rest… you forget to take your vitamins. But you don’t respond to my questions so that’s how I know you’re not taking care of yourself.”

You realized long ago that Jungkook is a very caring person. He’s observant in that he easily picks up on your habits and tendencies; he can figure out what you’re feeling by the sound of your voice, the pacing of your breathing, and your body language. You know all this, but it still makes you feel all kinds of warmth and love when he shows that protective and worried side of him.

“How are you so good at this?” You whisper.

“At what?”

“Knowing me? Caring for me?”

“Says the person who never missed a day of visiting when I got shot,” he laughs. 

“Hmm, you really used an example from years ago, huh?”

“My point is,” he tickles you, “is that’s how you really are. I… wasn’t always like this, is what I meant to say. I worry differently when it’s about you.”

His face softens and you just want to kiss him stupid, but you also know you owe him an apology and an explanation.

“Me, too. Except maybe when I’m too self-absorbed and can’t look past whatever I’m going through,” you sigh, “which is terrible because I didn’t know your dad’s been reaching out. It’s either you told me or didn’t but either way, I’m sorry for not being there for you.”

“I… mentioned it in passing,” he says, immediately hugging you as you start to cry again. “But it’s fine. I talked to my mom about it and she says it’s up to me if I want to entertain him and stuff.”

He rubs circles on your back. “Let’s talk about that another time, okay? What about you?” He asks, shifting you to face him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The realization that Jungkook has been asking how you are but you never really answer him hits you, even more that you’ve been keeping him out yet he still looks at you with the softest, most comforting eyes.

But you tell him - how the past weeks have been, yesterday’s meeting, the director’s snarky remarks, the phone call with your father, and the aftermath of it all. 

He watches you with a mix of amusement and sympathy, as you animatedly narrate everything. You shift from one emotion to another, rocking back and forth on his lap, gesticulating as you go, and all the while, his hands on your waist steady you to make sure you don’t fall off.

He listens intently and agrees that Mr. Chung is a “party pooper” and “probably never had sprinkled cupcakes in his life” because he “lacks so much joy and softness.”

“And then I ignored your texts and came home to find out that I missed the dinner you cooked then I saw you packing and thought you want to leave me for good,” you shift, pouting once more and tearing up.

You hug him again - partly an excuse to inhale his fresh scent, and apologize.

“Don’t leave me, okay?” You say softly.

He holds you close and cradles you like the baby that you are. “It’s gonna take way more than you missing my famed dumpling soup for me to leave you, got that? You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

You bask in his sweetness, knowing that while he’s not always like this - as he leaves most of the verbal expression of love to you - he knows just what you need to feel better.

He cups your cheeks, wipes your tears, and kisses your forehead.

“Why are you so hard on yourself?”

Your face deflates and there’s that uncertainty, that fear, almost like affliction that hurts Jungkook to be seeing on you.

“It’s more than the stress and those people, isn’t it?”

It takes a while for you to answer, but the admission - simple as it is, still feels heavy.

“I’m so scared, Jungkook.”

He gives you time to process your own words, feeling as if it’s also the first time that you’re verbalizing it.

“I’m so scared that I’ll disappoint my parents, and I keep thinking that I will, that somewhere along the line, they’ll regret giving me this responsibility,” you say, your lips quivering.

“Have you always felt this way?”

“I guess I always have but this is the longest that my father’s been away, that he’s left me to deal with all of these things on my own, and that’s just magnified what I’m so afraid of - failing them.”

“Hey, ___. You won’t. I’ve got enough people on your end telling me you’re doing just fine.”

“Then why don’t I feel that? Why do I feel like every decision I’ll make will yield some loss, or upset people, or lead to some disaster? And then I can’t make a decision at all? I mean, that’s what happened yesterday,” you reason. “I couldn’t make up my mind. And I just couldn’t… I just…”

You sigh. Even thinking about this is tiring.

“It’s like this crippling anxiety, you know?” You manage to continue. “I’m so scared that I’ll make the wrong call, that I’ll make mistakes that I just… can’t do anything at all. And either way I lose.”

“Either way you lose,” he repeats. “Take a step somewhere or stay rooted where you are, you lose. But at least if you move, you’re no longer in the same place. You could end up with a different result.”

“Yeah but my mind just always thinks I’ll fail,” you whine. “And I don’t want that, I can’t have that. I don’t want my parents to be upset with me; I don’t want them to be upset at having me.”

It’s the kind of fear that Jungkook has never seen on you before, not even at the alley those years ago. This one is deep-seated, one that's developed over time, one that you just can’t shake off.

One that he understands. 

No matter how much your parents hurt you, you will always want their approval, their love. You want to know that even if things didn’t turn out well, they never regret giving you a chance.

It’s something he can relate with, as he finds himself still yearning for his mother’s acceptance, her admiration, her affection. 

But it’s different with you, especially as he knows that when it comes to your parents, there’s so much that hasn’t been said.

“I get you, angel, but you see, it isn’t about not making mistakes,” Jungkook says. “It isn’t just about making the right decision but standing by it, whatever it is.”

He turns your face towards his.

“Your father trusts you to make the best decision you could make at that moment, even if it doesn’t always turn out right, even if there’s a loss. He trusts that you’d know what should be done or at least, make sure that you do. It’s sticking to your principles, being accountable, standing your ground whatever the consequences are.” 

“How do you know?” 

Jungkook releases a deep breath. “Your father talks to me a lot, you know? He asks me to join him for drinks sometimes.”

This is news to you, and you don’t hide your surprise.

“Well, he always wanted a son,” you shrug, not being able to imagine drinking alcohol with your father.

“He talks to me about you.”

You don’t know what to say, and your wide eyes say you don’t know what to think, either.

“He tells me that he wishes you wouldn’t be so scared to make mistakes, because he’s noticed it,” Jungkook shares. “He wants to push you but he doesn’t know how far he should, or could, because he doesn’t think he knows you well enough.”

You turn emotional again, and somehow you feel like your heart is breaking and mending all at once.

“Your father may not know how to love you as a parent should but one thing I’ve learned about him is that he doesn’t want to hurt you. And I think that’s why he talks to me, because I learned how to.”

“I’m that hard of a person to love, huh?” Your face falls.

“No,” Jungkook says, snuggling you to him. “You teach people how to, and then you make them realize that they’re capable of doing it, you make them want to believe that they actually can. Because I did, and I’m pretty sure your parents aren’t far from realizing that, too.”

You nibble your lips, unable to process this kind of information, so you focus on something else.

“For someone who’s too careful, seems pretty uncharacteristic of him to say it isn’t about making mistakes,” you frown.

“He’s been doing this for decades, ___. I'm pretty sure he’s already learned how not to make significant mistakes, but I'm also pretty sure he still does. He’s just good at not showing it, I mean, he shouldn’t, but he’d be sympathetic about it.”

“Are you my boyfriend or are you his son?” You giggle, but finding comfort, in a way, that your own father confides in Jungkook. There’s something heartwarming, although a little nerve wracking, about the thought.

“Could be both,” he smirks. “But he was also honest with me that he was so angry when he found out about us. He was ready to ban us from seeing each other but that day at his office, when you fought for me the way you did, ready to shoulder the consequences of being with someone like me, he saw that you’re capable of doing that, of standing by your decision, even if he didn’t think it was the best one, but you did. And here we are.”

“Here we are,” you smile, feeling as if you haven’t done that in a long while.

“I know you’re scared to disappoint others - that’s why you always did what your parents said, why you never questioned people, why you allowed them to define you, question you. But you can’t forget about you, okay? You’re worth too much to just be your own afterthought.”

You want to cry again and kiss him, so you do both at the same time. He holds you while you do, and you feel his smile on your lips, and you end up smiling, too.

“I love you,” you whisper on his neck.

“I love you, too, angel,” he whispers back.

Your lips travel down to his semi-exposed chest, as he wears his zip-up black jacket and you’re suddenly tempted to see more. So you do.

He’ll always look sexy like this.

“I miss you so much and I want so badly to make love to you but I’m so tired from crying,” you pout, earning you a laugh.

“We have the whole day tomorrow, angel. Don’t worry. We’ll do all the lovemaking you want.”

He looks at you with soft eyes, and they’re ones you never want to be without. Especially on your hardest days, all you want is for those eyes to look back at you, telling you that everything will be okay. 

He cradles you in his arms as you both fall asleep, as if he wants to protect you from the whole world. And you know just as much - Jungkook will do everything to make sure he does.

##

Epilogue Series Masterlist || Previous || Next

Permanent Taglist: @sherlynxx​ @di0rgguk​ @thequeen-kat​ @mwitsmejk​ @fan-ati--c​ @cravingforhotchocolate​​ @adoraminie​​ @jeonsfreak​​ @helenazbmrskai​​ @weasleyswizarding-wheezes​​ @siadreams @preciouschimine​​ @gukssunshine​​ @nch327​​

- SeriesTaglist: @emsuzz​​ @emmmui​​ @blckjeon​​ @shatzkrinslinzki​​ @cantchooseanamebye​​ @jeoncookie-bts​​ @clumsymandu​​ @kookiesbreaky @libra04​ @petuliii​ @this-is-seriousbusinesz​ @awseokjin​ @kookxin​ @doublebunnykoo​ @parkdatjimin​ @ohmydarlin-g​ @jpeachytaev​ @paraquesufrir​ @kuzimuzibts​ @emeriroth​ @sweetonkookieandtae​ @lilyflowerguk​ @jwlmnbt​ @squishyjk​ @kissme-ornot​ @jkbangtan7​ @criesinsagitarius​ @torisecrets​ @seokjinnie1204 @satorinnie​ @dovejoon​ @kaithezaftig​ @athenakyle​ @min-chery​ @jellybearo​ @justvibingsblog​ @jkiddingjeon @filterjk​ @jeonsgal​

#jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #boyfriend jungkook #fight for you #fight for you epilogue #series

[nicka-nell]

Atsumu's route - Epilogue (End)

≡ Masterlist |  ∇  prev | chapter 72

Pairing: Osamu x reader (main route), Atsumu x reader

Genre: Social Media-AU, text

Warning: mdni

Note: So that’s the final chapter of Atsumu’s route. 🥺 I wanted to thank everyone who was there until the end and supported me on these ups and downs of the readers’ feelings. 💚 It’s kind of strange that it’s over now… but I’m happy that both ends are finished. I really thank you so much, and I hope you all stay safe and healthy. 🤗💖🥰

My sexy Miya bride: 2022/06/17 - 2026/04/30

Atsumu can’t remember the last time he was so nervous. He keeps looking at his cell phone, checking the time because he doesn’t want to pick you up too late in Osamu’s store. 

The last pictures he hangs on the cord. It’s all there, pictures from your school days, pictures from the common days off where you spent your time together after school, to the days when you moved in with him, the days as a couple and also the days as parents. The picnic blanket lies on the floor. He placed two glasses and a few drinks in a basket, the food still under a plastic wrap. Is there anything missing? Step by step, he goes through everything in his head again, as a hand lying down on his shoulder pulls him out of his thoughts. 

“Hey, relax. Ya can do that, Tsumu.” His brother tries to calm him down with a smile. 

Yes, yes, he can do it. 

“C’mon, go down to the store. I’ll do the final preparations and then leave as soon as I can see ya both. You won’t notice me.”  

Nodding, Atsumu hands him a few more fairy lights to spread on the ground and around the big tree before he makes his way to you. 

In the shop, it is quiet. Today are surprisingly few people in the store. You close the shop and write to Osamu that you are now going home, already turned off the light everywhere and locked the door when Atsumu’s voice suddenly gets your attention. 

“Ah damn, and I was just on my way to the store to order some food. I heard today there’s this incredibly sexy woman in the shop helping the shop owner.” He greets you sulking before he gives you a kiss. 

“Tsumu, hey, what are you doing here?” You just laugh and find yourself in his arms. He smells different, like flowers. But he probably just washed himself with your shower gel again. 

“I thought you and I could get some dinner together. There’s a new restaurant. Ya wanna go there with me?” 

“And what about our little mouse? We can’t leave her with Sakusa forever.” 

 “Aahh, don’t worry about that. Omi-Omi sent me a picture earlier and wrote that the two have super much fun.” Atsumu answers you as he shows you a photo on his phone with Sakusa and your little girl trying to hold a pen. You feel warm around your heart when you see them like that. You never thought that Sakusa of all people could handle toddlers so well and that he was so happy to take care of her. 

“All right, if it’s not a problem for him. I gladly accept your offer.” You answer him and follow him to a place you actually shouldn’t know. But every step closer to the goal makes you more puzzled. You are no longer sure if you are really going to a new restaurant. Remain speechless when you see where he takes you. 

At your favorite place, you both stay there watching the sunset as you follow a path full of memories embedded in beautiful, colorful fairy lights. In the end, there’s something to eat, a bouquet of yellow and white tulips from your favorite store, and a few candles flickering in the sundown. Still amazed, you look at the scenario, not knowing what to say, think or feel when Atsumu hugs you from behind and gives you a kiss on the shoulder. You love his closeness, no matter where you are. There is nothing more beautiful than to feel his warmth on your body, as his muscular arms wrap around you and his deep, smiling voice creeps into your ears. 

“Hey babe, turn around for me, okay?” he whispers quietly to you as you turn around, notice how your eyes are already wet because you can guess what is happening now. Nervous, yet with a broad smile, he takes your hands in his, presses his forehead against yours before giving you a kiss on the crown. 

“You know Y/n, I’ve been thinking about writing it all down, but I figured I don’t need to, ‘cause I know what I wanna tell ya. Back when you first came to our school, I knew you were different. I knew ya were a strong woman with her heart on the right side. Back then I was really an extreme volleyball freak who always said freely what bothers him, without paying attention to the feelings of others. And yet, you wanted to be friends with me. I always thought my brother was the one who challenged me, who I always fought with, who was the better. That may be true in sports, but with all the other things, I wanted to keep up with you. I didn’t want to go ahead. I wanted to walk next to ya.” 

Briefly he pauses. You see him swallowing, his hands slowly sweating and how he’s struggling to hold his voice. 

“When you moved away… Shit, I was really sad, but I tried to be happy because you were happy there. I never wanted to stand in the way of yer happiness. I always wanted to support you, no matter how and even if it was out of the shadow. But when ya wrote to me what yer ex had done, that he had cheated on you, I really couldn’t understand. I still can’t understand. How can someone who doesn’t even deserve you treat you like this when you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met? When I saw ya crying in front of the house, I wanted to punch that idiot in the face. But it was more important for me to keep you around and show you that I was there for you. And from then on, day after day, I realized that I didn’t want to keep up with you because I wanted to be as good as you, but because I wanted to be good enough for you, because I wanted to be by yer side. I didn’t want to be the one to protect you when you were sad. I want to be the one who doesn’t even make you sad. Y/n, you are the woman I love more than anything, anyone else.” 

Again he pauses, briefly closes his eyes as if he is remembering something before he opens them again, smiles broadly and chuckles. He squeezes your hands tighter, gives them a gentle kiss before looking at you again and continues with his sugar-sweet declaration of love. 

“When I wake up in the morning, when I see you lying next to me, it makes me so happy that I have to brush your hair to make sure that’s really true. That you’re real. I love being able to laugh with you about any nonsense, that we complement each other and that you get along so well with all my friends. I love it when you’re dressed in my shirt, standing in the kitchen, making some food and turning to me with your coffee cup, wondering if I want one too. I love your smile, which always shows me how happy you are, your voice that tells me how much you love me, your humor and everything about you. Really… everything about you, and you being so strong, raising our sunshine with me and being such a great mother. Y/n, you are the woman I love more than anything, the love of my life, and I wanna ask you if ya want to make me the happiest man on earth a third time and become my wife? My sexy Miya lady… will you marry me?” 

His voice is trembling from word to word, his eyes as glassy as yours as he goes on his knees and looks at you, the few seconds until your answer seems like an eternity to him. His heart beats wildly, just like yours, when you fall happily around his neck, both of you sinking backwards onto the soft meadow. 

“Yes Tsumu, yes Tsumu! I would love nothing more than to become the wife of the man I love most. I want to be your sexy Miya bride. Your wife from now on and forever.”

Taglist: @xmyshya @boosyboo9206 @alienvarmint @namyari @koukamisblog @zlatanakermann @bloombb @tia827 @creepykawass

#haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu smau #osamu smau #atsumu smau #smau: ride of love

[shurisneakers]

shut in [epilogue]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, swearing

Word count: 4k

A/N: annnnd we’re done :)) thank you to my resident bully @midnightsunfae for really getting this fic off the ground and helping with the planning. ily upo and thank you to everyone who’s read this series over the 5 months it’s been going on. it’s meant the absolute world to me :’)

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, an indicator of the nervousness that was building to a crescendo in your chest.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked, hand placed gently on your forearm.

You nodded, eyes downcast. If you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to follow through with it.

“I am,” you said quietly, swallowing to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“Okay,” he confirmed, letting his arm drop gently.

Ten minutes to go. You took a sip of water nervously. The glass had already found itself shifting back and forth on the table in search of the perfect place. It was a fruitless quest anyway.

The door was painted a dark green, steps leading up to it from the pavement.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” you asked quietly, standing a stair below him in apprehension. Neither of you had contacted him or sent a message, just showed up at his place exhausted and covered in a thin layer of dirt.

“I know he won’t.” Sam raised his fist to knock thrice, a pause before knocking two more times.

A code.

He turned around slightly, checking to see if you were fine. The longer you stood out there, the more afraid you were of someone spotting the both of you, putting an end to your life before it even began. You had a feeling that paranoia would continue for a long time.

The door swung open, revealing a tall man with blonde hair leaning against the doorway with one arm. There was a nick above his eyebrow, an old scar that hadn’t faded over time. Even though his other hand was concealed behind the door, you could tell that he was holding something by the way his muscles were clenched. Years of training wouldn’t disappear overnight.

"Sam." Surprise overtook his face in a second. "You're alive."

"Don't sound so happy, I can't handle it." Sam rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. "This is Y/N, we need a place to stay."

“It’s just been a while since I heard from you, man. Coming from a hit?” Riley didn’t think twice about moving aside, scrutinising dried blood on your person as you walk past. “Nice to meet you, I’m Riley.”

It was a cane in his hand. Sam’s mention of his limp flashed in your mind.

You gave him a small wave and a quiet re-introduction of yourself, following Sam into the house.

“You could say that.” Sam paused, a hand on Riley’s shoulder as he says something out of your ear shot to him.

Riley’s face turned stoic immediately, a nod of his head and a deep exhale soon following. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” You pressed your lips together in a straight line with a corner quirked upwards, a half smile of sorts.

“Bathroom’s down the hall, to the right.” He pointed out the direction. “I’m getting you some food. Gumbo still your thing, Wilson?”

“Anything other than peanut butter.”

Riley was a blessing you could have never prepared for; knowing exactly what you both would need and anticipating emotions you had no idea you’d be feeling. For someone who had guests show up completely uninvited to crash on his couch, he was ready as ever, given that he had been through the same thing a while ago.

It was difficult. Fuck that, it was one of the hardest things to go; not pretending like everything around you would fall into soon and that you would be fine because you had to. You had worked too damn hard for you not to be.

But you knew things weren’t going to be fine right off the bat and it would be foolish to think it was.

“Sam, look at me,” you commanded gently, but there was an edge of firmness to your tone. You were sitting on the bench near the entrance of the park.

“I’m sorry, things were going good and I thought-” He shook his face that was hiding in his palm, elbows resting on his knees.

His attacks didn’t come nearly as frequently as yours. It was easy to think that he had no trauma just because he learnt how to deal with it better.

“Look at me, Sammy.” It was just a walk in the park, a stroll that should have lasted twenty minutes tops. You had been on that trail before for the same purpose but something triggered him today, someone’s gaze who lingered too long on the both of you.

He clenched his fists, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Breathe with me.” You exaggerated the movements to have him follow, a system the both of you had come up with when anxiety attacks used to hit at random. A temporary solution to an aftermath that would go on for hours, days even.

It took him a few staggered breaths to get there, finally falling into routine with you. He could feel his heartbeat slow to what it was but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t subside for a while.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, still making sure he was breathing with you. You were nervous too and your eyes were still darting about to survey your surroundings, but he needed you at that moment. “We’re safe. We’re okay.”

“No one’s here,” he mumbles, interlacing your fingers and bringing it to his forehead to lean against your hand.

“We’re okay,” you repeated, giving him the space he needed. “We’re okay.”

“Will someone be joining you?” The waiter prodded softly. If it wasn’t your incessant tapping at the table, the clammy palms and constant checking of your watch was a clear giveaway that you could use a bit of kindness that day.

“Yeah, any minute now.” You smiled at her. She simply nodded, refilling your glass of water before leaving you alone.

You looked at your watch and sighed.

Seven minutes.

Things were fine. Things were good.

Sam and you were… undefined. Labels almost seemed too constrictive for now and it wasn’t like the both of you didn’t know what the other felt. It was kind. It was soft. Sometimes you kissed his cheek when the sunlight bounced off his face while he watered the succulents and the smile he gave you was addictive. Other times he snaked an arm around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder while you watched the street from the kitchen window.

It made you happy, and so you tried to force away the stem of doubt that creeped into your heart.

Riley had introduced the concept of movie nights and the occasional mob movie would make it in there just to poke fun at. He showed you around the city, inviting you to go grocery shopping with him at the farmers market, the best places to get a glimpse of the music scene or to subtly point out potential date night spots.

He was a genuinely nice guy, and if you thought Sam was fun to hang out with, you were not prepared for the both of them together. You could tell why Sam adored him.

“Y/N, I don’t know how you stayed with him for all that time and didn’t murder him in his sleep.” Riley glared at Sam who had once again left his collection of music CDs strewn around on a couch. It was all in jest; it was well known that Sam found an anchor in music that kept him up late at night for a sense of calm.

“It was a close call sometimes,” you added playfully, giving Sam a grin.

“You weren’t exactly easy to survive with either.” He scoffed. “How many times did we watch Megamind in a row? Eight?”

“You wouldn’t stop watching Die Hard,” you accused, arms crossed over your chest. “It was payback.”

“You made the rule saying we couldn’t watch things more than twice in a row and you broke it first.”

“I’m gonna go,” Riley interjected. “But y’all keep at this. I heard it’s good for your soul.”

“Stay there,” Sam demanded, pointing to where he was standing a second ago. “You’re gonna be play judge since you started this shit.”

“I really don’t want to.” He shook his head, staying put nonetheless, amusement clear as day on his face.

“The laundry.”

“The dishes.”

You both narrowed your eyes at each other. His argument didn’t hold a match to yours.

“You know what, I was wrong,” Riley announced to no one in particular. “I’m pretty sure you guys would kill each other under any other circumstance.”

The smile on your face faltered but you straightened it back out with a clearing of your throat before firing a comeback.

It was barely a second, almost unnoticeable. But Sam caught it.

Four minutes.

Almost time.

The tapping became more intense, and the rate at which you pulled out your phone to check the time increased.

Fuck, this was a bad idea. How were you supposed to behave with him after all this time?

Something was wrong. Something was off.

Sam wasn’t blind to it. He could see it under the smile you eased into at game night, the complaining when too much food was ordered for three people to eat, the good natured teasing when he rolled over to your side of the bed at night to steal your blanket.

Something was eating at you, gnawing at you from the inside.

His suspicion was confirmed when you whispered at 2am one night to what you thought was an asleep partner that you wanted to move out. Find a place of your own.

His stomach dropped instantly but he didn’t so much as move a muscle.

“I need to get out. I need to have a life,” you sniffed, doing your best not to wake him up as you traced circles into his skin lightly. “I don’t know what it’s like to be independent. I won’t know unless I figure it out myself.”

The air had a chill to it and it was one of the times you had asked him to sleep in the guest bedroom with you instead of on his own, knowing that it was one of those nights where you could use a little extra warmth.

“Even when we were in there I couldn’t stop thinking about whether this thing between us was just because we were forced to stay together. You said it wasn’t, and I know that but I can’t help but think-” Your voice cracked. “Would you come back to me if things were different?”

He didn’t answer, even though he knew what he wanted to say with all the certainty in the world. Your fingers continued to draw on his skin. He continued to let you.

Sam didn’t even bring up the conversation that morning, or that week. Instead, he held you a bit closer whenever he could and gave you the space to hopefully open up to him on your own time, letting you know that he’d be there to listen.

It took a while. You both were in the middle of watching a movie that wasn’t Die Hard when you told him that you needed to talk to him about something. The hesitancy in your voice and the fixation your fingers had with the hem of your sweater was painful to witness.

He understood, of course. He always did. That you needed to experience what it was like to live, not survive. That decades of living with other kids, living under an abuser, living in a safehouse for months, was restrictive and suffocating and you needed to find what made you happy.

And so did he. It was something both of you had to do eventually, exit the bubble you had been staying in under such ardent protection for those two months.

Riley was wonderfully supportive of it, vowing to find you the best apartment that New Orleans had to offer. You didn’t doubt it.

His place had been colourful and bright and everything you could have asked for after the monotone walls you were used to. But it wasn’t yours.

A few weeks later you had moved out. Sam left a lingering kiss on your forehead, a sign to say that he’d be here whenever, whatever.

You made a Shakira joke. He laughed.

A completely fresh new start. If you failed now, it was all on you.

And what a terrifying thought that was.

It had been four months since you had left Riley’s apartment behind.

Four months since you had seen either of them.

The cafe was starting to feel too small for this event. Too intimate, too-

When the bell above the cafe chimes, something at the back of your mind instantly wakes up, sending you on high alert.

“Y/N?” he called out from behind you.

You knew he’d be early.

“Sam.” You breathed out, standing up to face him.

Video calls didn’t do him any justice. He had a particular glow to him, an aura of confidence that wasn’t there the last time you saw him. His beard was neatly trimmed and the smile that tugged at his lips the minute you caught his eye was beautiful.

You didn’t realise how different he looked until the time apart. Months of makeshift workouts and peanut butter as your only source of protein had done a number on him. You remembered him being leaner, and what you now realised was the constant burden of fatigue on his face.

“You look good.” An understatement escaped you, but he did.

He had a deep blue shirt on that hugged him in all the right places. Months of seeing him only black and grey had you damn near drooling when he wore other colours after you got out.

Not that you were staring, but his biceps had definitely made a wonderful return.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Sam sent you a smile that instantly put you at ease. “Independence looks good on you, sweetheart.”

You gave a small laugh, gesturing for him to take a seat. Should you have hugged him? Shook his hand? Kissed hi-

“It’s been a while,” he politely interrupted your overthinking. “How are things going?”

You let out a small breath. It was a big question, one that you had answered over text and call a few times but it was different now. He was in front of you now and you couldn’t bullshit the way you used to on call occasionally.

“Weird,” you admitted. “I don’t know what to do with myself now that I have all this time.”

“It takes some gettin’ used to.” He nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair.

A lot of your time went into trying new hobbies. Knitting, pottery, drawing- anything that you could get your hands on. Things didn’t always catch on, some discarded just after the first week. Others stuck, bringing you bits of triumph every time you moved forward with your newfound skill.

“You still seein’ your therapist?” He flashed a smile at the waitress who filled his glass of water.

Ah, yes. Dr. Bishop had been one of the first people you sought out.

“Yeah.” You took a sip of water. “See her weekly.”

You still had money left over from all the hit jobs that you had done. As much as you wanted to leave every inkling of that life behind, you needed the cash to live. You had enough for the time being, but you knew that eventually you had to start working; if not for the money then for the peace of mind.

“How’s that goin’?”

“She thinks I talk in elaborate metaphors. The gang’s what I call my toxic family, he was my abusive father, stuff like that.”

There were moments where you thought you saw someone you knew standing at a corner, vendors giving you icy looks from across the street, footsteps outside your door that seemed too damn loud. But nothing ever came of it.

“Thanks for the tip, by the way.” You extended a smile to him in appreciation for the idea.

“Worked with my therapist, figured it would be the same with yours.” He shrugged casually. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to her, and you weren’t. But some things were better left in the dark.

“But I think it’s helping.” You exhaled deeply, eyes downcast. “The nightmares are reducing.”

“That’s a lot of progress.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward in pride.

Several feelings erupted from that look, some that you’d spend the whole day revelling in if you didn’t force yourself to move on.

“How about you?” you diverted the subject back to him. “How’s Riley?”

“He says he misses ya.” Sam laughed. “Says he can’t handle me alone, that he needs you back to save him.”

“What have you been doing to that poor man?” you teased, easing back into your seat. “He was fine when I left him.”

“He’s got a fancy new job now and it’s been going to his head. Needed a little humbling.”

“You’re not going too hard on him, are you?” Even though you knew he wasn’t, it was fun to make sure.

“Nah, I’d say it’s just about the right amount.” Sam grinned and you felt the familiar flutter return to your stomach. “I’ve been doing good. Working on getting my license.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” You were thrilled when he said he was going to look into becoming a youth counselor, knowing that it was something he had been genuinely wanting to do for ages.

“With my background, or lack of it, it’s a little trickier than I thought it would be,” he divulges a bit more seriously. “Riley’s been pulling a few strings and I got a few contacts but it’s gonna take some more time.”

You bit your lip, worry rising for him. He deserved it, he earned it. It fucking sucked that it wasn’t going to be an easy, direct path.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said quietly, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his in reassurance.

The contact brings with it a small spark. You wondered if he still felt it.

“Yeah. We will.” He sent you a soft smile at your action, not making any effort to move it. “You been on any dates lately?”

You let out a snort at that. “Loads. Have fellas lining up at every corner for me.”

“I bet.” He’s more bold, a bit more open than he was in the first month when you both got out. “How many of them do I have to fight off?”

“I’d say six as a rough estimate.” Your expression mimicked one of consideration. “I hope you’ve been getting your hours in at the gym.”

“I’ll kick it up a notch,” he promised, hands raised in surrender.

“You better. We’re supposed to go for laser-tag.” A dumb callback to a joke he made on one of your last days there.

“Or paintball.” He remembered. It made you unnecessarily giddy. “I added an escape room to the list too.”

“Hilarious,” you fired at him, rolling your eyes slightly but the happiness on your face proved otherwise.

His laughter died down eventually, paving the way for the comfortable silence that lingered between you both. Your eyes fell down to where your hand still held his, biting your lip to conceal a smile.

“Y/N,” he called out, pulling your gaze back to his. “Jokes aside… how are you?”

You let out a breath at his question. You knew it was coming.

“Riley found me an apartment,” you murmured.

Sam looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“It’s a nice place. Lots of sunlight. Quiet too.” You toyed with your fingers. “But it’s about an hour away. More if you consider traffic.”

Sam set his phone down gently on the bedside table, indicating that you had his full attention.

“I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you, because I’m not. I wouldn’t, I just-”

“Hey,” he interrupted calmly, twisting his body to face you. “I don’t think you’re abandoning me. If this is what you need, then you should do it.”

“I don’t know if this is what I need. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never been-” the frustration in your voice only increased as you went on. “-I don’t even know if this is going to work. What if I hate it?”

“Finding out what you hate is just as important as what you like, I think.” He watched you toy with the fidget square he had gotten you. “And you know that if you don’t feel like it, then you can come back here at any moment.”

“I know.” It was a comforting thought. A safety net.

“But would this make you happy?” That caught you by surprise.

It wasn’t something you had thought of. You thought of the negative consequences, the devastating effects it could have on you, how it could be the worst possible decision you’d ever make.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, a new anxiety setting in. “I guess we’ll see.”

You liked the neighbours who played the piano way too loud at 2am, the really terrible coffee at the therapist’s office and the feeling the paper plane on your dresser gave you when you occasionally looked at it.

You didn’t like how hot the apartment could get, especially during the afternoon, or the guy who sold magazines down the street who cursed at everyone for no reason, or the gentrified Indian food they served at the mall.

But Sam was right. Figuring out what you didn’t like was just as beautiful a journey as figuring out what you did.

“I’m happy.” You breathed out. “Or I'm working towards being happy. But it’s there.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. Simply slipped his palm under yours to lift your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m proud of you.”

If anyone could feel the heat that rose to your face they would probably think you had a fever.

The fear that you had, the one of what things would be like if you weren’t forced to survive in a confined space together, had begun to fade the minute he called out your name that day.

It was Sam. Your Sam.

You shake yourself out of your train of thought with a small smile, making a move to gather up your belongings without letting go of his hand for a second.

“Well, c’mon then. Those paintballs aren’t going to shoot themselves.”

“Are you saying this is a date?” There was a smirk on his face that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Would you still consider it one once I annihilate you?” You tilted your head in a challenge.

“That would never happen, first of all.” He scoffed. “Second… I was thinking that maybe we could do something normal for a change.”

That had you more interested than the prospect of adventure sports. You had enough of it for a lifetime, frankly speaking.

“Lead the way, Cinnamon.” He only rolled his eyes at the nickname, sending you a vaguely threatening look. You just laughed.

“This place got good coffee?” He looked around at the establishment and its patrons.

“One of the best.”

“Then I don’t see why we have to go anywhere else,” he offered and you nodded, relaxing back into your place with the same sense of warmth in your heart that only intensified with his proposal.

He raised his hand up to flag the server, the same girl who had been helping you out since you got there, asking for two menus.

The smile he sent her was infectious. It was good.

“Sam,” you began quietly. “I missed you.”

His eyes softened, the sunlight reflecting in it making it shine like dravite. “I missed you, too.”

“Ready to order?” The waitress stands beside you with a notepad.

He looked at you and you nodded with a smile.

Things were different. You were different.

And he still came back to you.

--fin--

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <3

thank you so much for reading!

#sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #mcu fic #sam fic #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson angst #sam wilson series #falcon #falcon x reader #the falcon x reader #hitman!sam wilson #hitman!au #shut in fic #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #sam wilson #the falcon #sam wilson fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #sam imagine

[fnf-amateur-writing]

Hey! It’s Fox again! How are you doing? I just started school back up today, so I’ve been busy Xp.

Think you would be cool with writing some Pico with an s/o who is a writer, and tends to ask him about things like “hey, how long does it take someone to bleed out” or other things like that?

I understand if you don’t feel like it, and I hope you’re having fun 😊

🦊

Hello again Fox, I'm doing quite well rn. I'm cool with your prompt, especially since I need more writing material anyways.

Took me a while, because I didn't want to do a hc, but rather come up with a oneshot with a little twist to the style. Well, hope it works well.

Good luck with school, mate!

TW: Mentions of violence, swearing, slight sexual reference, and crime.

Pico with a writer S/O who asks him strange questions

Prologue:

On a chilly autumn morning, you were sitting out on your patio with a laptop and a mug of your favourite beverage next to you. Whenever you looked up, you could see the warm coloured leaves fall as the breeze accompanied you. The whole scene was an aesthetic.

When your boyfriend, Pico, came outside to see this, he knew that the nice environment you surrounded yourself with meant one thing. "You're back in your writing space already. Heh, with that bestseller you published, I thought you were comfy taking a break." You simply smiled and said, "can't waste the inspiration rush I got right now."

Pico had a good point though, with your rising popularity as an author, you were near set to retire before turning fourty. But you wish you weren't given all of the credit, since your boyfriend's stories of his dodgy job has occasionally sparked some ideas for your stories. However the books you wrote in the past were usually meant for the young adult and had few mature themes. This time, you thought maybe it's time to garner extra inspiration from those stories.

You were met with some disappointment when you realised that your mug was empty, only a drop entering your mouth. "Here, babe, I'll ya some more," Pico said, taking your mug and walking inside. "Quick question," you stopped him. "Yeah?"

"What would be the best place for a murder cemetery?"

"... What?"

Chapter 1:

"So you're doing some story about the police hunting down a mass murderer?"

"Pretty much."

"And to think you were gonna write Pixar's next script. Aight' I respect that." Pico takes a seat next to you with a refill of your drink placed next to your favourite writing laptop. "Thanks, Pico. But yeah, I want to branch out to something edgier, and I think you can help too."

"Let me show you what I've got so far." You showed him some of your notes in a little notepad document, detailing the story thus far and your current plans for this chapter. "Oh, that's it? Just looks like boring police preparation mainly," Pico commented. "Yeah, it's not much right now. But it'll get juicy later." "And bloody?" "And bloody."

"Welp, I'm gonna head back in," Pico got up, "let me know if you need anything." He head back inside, closing the door, but then opened it almost immediately afterwards. Pico stuck his head out, "by the way, the guy should use some strong alcohol or something to throw off those sniffer dogs."

Chapter 2:

"And then, because they used a silencer, the police don't immediately notice the--"

"Nope! I'm calling bullshit (Y/N)!" Pico had suddenly interrupted your explanation of the scene you were currently working on. "Silencers can help prevent some hearing loss, sure, but they're not magic."

"Alright," you reply, "no silencer, but the killer still has to kill in a way to not get blood on them, so I thought shooting and killing them from a distance would work." "Well, they're alone. Instead, have the guy get shanked in the neck or something, and have the killer use a plastic bag as a glove. It saved my ass one time."

"Woah!" you exclaimed with a giggle, "you used a knife once? What happened to my trigger happy boyfriend, huh? That's pretty sus."

"I forgot to reload the Uzis, alright?"

"What an impostor would say."

Chapter 3:

"What would be the best way to muffle the scream of someone you kidnapped?"

You two were sitting on the couch together watching a show. You didn't have your laptop on you, so Pico didn't expect you to still be thinking about that book. "I can't say from experience, really," he said as he paused the show. "However, shove a rag in their mouth and duct tape it in, and you should be good."

"Thanks Pico, also one more thing." "Yeah?" "What if our killer also wanted to..." God, this one was gonna be awkward, but you had to say it or else no help. "You know, cut off this victim's willy. How would you do that?"

"Wai-wha-uh-ga," Pico started fumbling his words like never before. He stopped, then took a deep breath. "YO, WHAT THE FUCK?!" "It'll make sense in the story later, I promise!" You watch Pico begin to lose it, breaking into laughter. "Ladies, gentlemen, and others," Pico dramatically stood up, pulling a little Showcaster impression and directing his arms towards you, "my famous 'young' adult novelist partner!"

Chapter 4:

It was in the dead of night, but you awoke to Pico on his phone. His vpn was on and Tor was up. As per usual, he was checking up on his little hitman service, where others could request for a certain someone's guts to fly if they paid him a hefty sum first. Though tired, you ound this to be the best time to ask him some more questions.

"Pico, how do those sites work?"

"Oh, you're awake," Pico blankly stated, sleepy too. But he still answered you. "Basically, some anonymous rich guys in the area give me money and a target, then I just do the thing and send a mission accomplished email." "Do they pay you in person?" "Nah, we use always use Bitcoin. It's a lot harder to trace than real money."

"Thanks Pico. Goodnight," you wish him, yawning and going back to sleep. "You too... So this guy is a hit man too?" "Hush. Tomorrow." "Okay." Pico puts his phone away, leaving it on a nightstand. You then spoon the night away, peacefully thinking of murder as you drifted off.

Chapter 5:

On a morning similar to before, you two sat on the patio with your drinks and laptop at the ready. Pico watched rather awkwardly as you typed away, wondering why you haven't entertained him with another question yet.

"You gonna ask anything else?" "What? Oh, nah," you plainly state. Inevitable, sure, but he was kind of saddened. He liked being able to share his messed up wisdom. "So, you're done?" "Almost." You turn to look at him, "want the spoilers?" Pico smiled, "sure thing."

In the novella you and Pico crafted together, the main character is a cop who hunts down a killer. They eventually notice that there would be two murders at a time for unknown reasons. Well, it was unknown until one victim had left up a dark web hit man for hire site. They that the hit man not only kills the target, but the client as a hidden price for the service.

And any request will be fulfilled, according to the hit man's site.

"Do they catch 'em?" Pico asked. "Well, ANY request is granted. So, if our hero were to... hire him to kill himself..."

"No way!"

"He did. They find both of their bodies in his bedroom."

Pico was a bit impressed with the ending you came up with, but then he remembered something. "Why did that guy get his thing cut off?" "Lol, I forgot," you giggled. "He sent a message to the hit man, saying he wishes the target would choke on his dick."

"That's my favourite part."

Epilogue:

After everything was finished up, you sent the book off to your editor. After the initial joy of knowing how the story ended, you saw that Pico was still in thought. "What's up with you?" "Oh nothing, well it's just... I'm probably just biased, being that I'm a bit of a hitman myself, but it's kind of sad to see the guy go."

"Then I should spoil the epilogue I came up with." Rather than being excited, Pico nervously asked, "what's an epilogue?" He didn't get an answer, only you staring at him. "Sorry, school held too many bad memories for me to pay attention."

"Anyways," you continue, "the rest of the police gang did some background checks, and find that our killer was a normal guy with no criminal history."

"Penilian?"

"No. But I did decide to take a more supernatural approach here. Somewhere across the country, another string of double homicides occur and that site is active once more. And the story kind of repeats itself."

"Penilian."

"You joker," you give him a playful little kiss on the cheek, one that definitely caught him off guard. "So is it canon?" Pico smirked. "Nah, just thanking you for being my cute little co-author." "Oh," Pico started, "so we're flirtin' now, huh. Come here babe!" He tackled you onto the ground, giving you several kisses in exchange.

"Actually, I think we call that 'making out'," you chuckle out, flustered. "But that doesn't mean I said stop'!" You pull him in for more, accidentally bonking your heads together rather painfully. "Nice double kill there, (Y/N)."

#fnf x reader #fnf imagines #pico x reader #fnf pico

[keilemlucent]

pretty eyes & starshine: ii

(NSFW)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

part i   ||   part ii   ||   part iii (epilogue)

beta’ed: @shadowworks & @firein-thesky​​

word count: ~15.2k

Healing takes time, but it’s easier with someone else around who’s on the mend with you. 

(You and Keigo learn to start living again.)

warnings: codependency but make it sexc, injured reader, post-trauma symptoms, reader has abandonment issues, angst, ouchies <3

a/n: part 2 :’^) we made it!! soft hurt and very horny codependency that involves keigo’s immaculate d*ck. all that is left after this is part 3 which will be more of an epilogue :’^) 

enjoy loves <3

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

The doors to exit the hospital scare you.

How can they not?

They’re... automatic.

The glass panes are wide, sliding and slapping as folks come and go, the quiet ring of metal on metal and the slap of the plastic padding makes your heart race.

Get over it, get over it, get over it—

It’s just some doors, they’re normal.

You’ve walked through automatic doors so many times. Never before had you even taken conscious note of them. 

(But that was before you heard them let in that man who—)

Without thinking, you take a little, tentative step back from them. 

Consider you are leaving your own slice of healing hell; you are shakier and sweatier than you would’ve liked. Your clothes are like the ones... he used to wear, cheap garments obviously pulled from some industrial multipack that stank like plastic and rubbing alcohol.

You hate it.

But you didn’t have another choice. Your old articles were bloodied and disposed of long ago, and the hospital gowns you wore during your stay were far more uncomfortable than your scratchy, wide pants and crewneck long sleeve the same pale, lifeless blue as your old bed sheets. 

It would be enough.

You shift the crutch under your right arm and shuffle the backpack on your shoulders. It contains just enough to get you to the shelter, where they’d supposedly have a bed— a cot, more than likely. You had a toothbrush, some extra socks, and a prepaid card for a single, one-way train trip across the country and into the unknown.

Tears stung your eyes as you lingered by the doors.

It all feels so uncomfortably real. The world kept moving, and you’re reentering it far-more battered and perpetually bruised. 

And completely alone.

(The thought horrifies you to your core, but you try to ignore it.)

Despite the time you spent at the hospital, you were leaving without a hint of reverie. Everyone, nurses and doctors and anyone who has fucking eyes is too busy dealing with the casualties that had lasted months. 

It didn’t matter how long you stayed. You were just a body. A fucked up one too. 

You count yourself lucky to even have the backpack, as cheap and sterile as it smells.

It all unnerves you, but you didn’t have a choice. Numbness settles over you as you accept your future. 

There... is a little glimmer that he will show up.

(He won’t. Empty promises.)

(Everyone leaves.)

(Why’d you call him, anyway?)

(Because no one had spoken to you like a human in a month.)

Solitude makes people desperate and crazy.

You are a little crazy, you know. Maybe not in a bad way, but certainly in a way that is eating you up and out in ways you don’t understand. You don’t have the energy sort through it all. You just have to finally start moving forward. Or try to. 

Tentatively, you walk toward the doors, stepping out and onto the pavement. You lurch and you would’ve tripped if not for the crutch shoved under your arm. 

For the first time in a long time, you suck in fresh air and the trickling sunlight. It feels fresh, cleansing you with each little inhale as you face your cheeks to sky. You have your moment, basking before your journey.

Then someone whistles. You ignore it at first.

The person whistles again, calling out— 

“Your ride’s here, starshine!”

Your breath punches from your lungs. You whip your head to the sound. 

Though it’s overcast, you do see your morning sun.

Your steps stutter as you nearly trip over your feet.

He is standing, not far at all, leaning against a shiny black car, sleek and expensive and out of place. He’s all overgrown hair and lazy-expressions, one which stretches into a grin as he sees you.

And you see him.

(He really came?)

(Of course he did.)

Your crutch nearly clatters to the ground as you stumble toward him. The moment you waver, he’s running to catch you.

You meet each other halfway.

And without a goddamn lick of shame, the moment you near him, your arms lock around him. Your face buries into the hollow of his throw and you inhale. The scent of him, a bit spiced but mostly skin and sweat fills you. Not a hint of antiseptic. 

 And you shudder at how good it feels. 

He stabilizes the two of you, greedily wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing as if to give a much-needed greeting. 

There’s a moment of heat between you, familiar and blessed and so damned missed that you both share shuddering breaths. 

“It’s good to see you, starshine,” He soaks up any part of you he could get to. So casually, he touches like he wants to consume you.

You squeeze him just as hard.

“You came?” Your words muffled into his skin.

He simply nods, and the only confirmation you need to sink into him. Perhaps, there’s onlookers, but neither of you have the mind to care. All you care about is the shift of his muscles beneath your fingertips, the heat of him, his golden, pretty visage—

Like he had so many times, he tucks hair behind your ears and tension drains from him. 

So tenderly does he squeeze around your middle where he holds you up, “Let’s go home, starshine.”

You want nothing more.

...

The drive to your new home is long, but you don’t mind.

The world has changed in the months you’d been tucked away in the forest-hidden hospital. As disconnected as you were, you still heard of the unrest and upheaval across the country. The political clashes are marked by the... contrarian billboards lining the highway, new slogans battling each other every mile or so. 

The scenery slowly goes from flatlands, to wetlands, to rolling hills that are a lush green. From the safety of the car, you could see that the air even looked wet, and you could imagine the way it would stick in your throat and tacky the tips of your fingers. 

“Where do you live?” You finally ask, voice soft in the melancholy softness of the light mist that sprayed the car.

“In the mountains, high-up,” He squeezes your hand (the one he’s been holding the whole ride). Quietly, he adds. “I still couldn’t bear to be too close to the ground.”

He laughs, though it fades into the suddenly heavy air.

This is the world, isn’t it?

You blink, gulping at the face of your reality, and let your eyes go half-lidded as you trace the shapes of growing evergreen as your drive takes you higher and higher. 

...

Keigo had made up the guest room for you.

He doesn’t have much for extra sheets and softness, let alone decor, but he does what he can. The bed is made and pressed with clean lines, freshly washed. The curtains on the windows hang heavy, but warm up the room with their clement, tan fibers. It’s a start, with lots of space for you to add your own touches as well.

He’d spent the night prior on it, laboring, like he was preparing a nest as opposed to a simple bedroom.

(It is a nest, but he doesn’t need to accept that just yet.)

There wasn’t anything else to do for a while when he first escaped that fucking hell. He’d really given up. Keigo was uncomfortably content to rot away as he had dreamed of since he’d been burnt. The little, dusty corners of the cabin would’ve made perfect places to waste away in peace and alone. 

Except, he didn’t.

Keigo started to make the home better.

He isn’t sure if it was out of some need to just do something, and the outdated, worn cabin was his most available canvas. Part of him is convinced it’s some buried avian instinct, and without the Commission’s constant hovering, he has no reason to suppress those more animalistic urges. The need to nest somewhere cozy and safe took him over, and he had gotten to work.

The cabin is cleaned up incredibly well. New appliances, floors patched and polished. The furniture is mostly old, but it’s obviously been shined and tended to. The living area isn’t horribly large, but it’s more than enough space for the two of you. It has wide windows that looked down upon the slopes and peaks that your home is nestled in. The colors are warm oranges and tans that are easy on the eye. Nothing too red and nothing too blue.

Nothing too imposing.

(Nothing too reminiscent.)

He leads you from the car, gingerly helping you up the rickety stairs to the front door. 

The wound on your leg may be ‘healed’, but you don’t appear comfortable in the slightest. Your expression pinches with half of your steps, the bending of your scarred flesh undoubtedly painful. It makes something in his chest squeeze as he navigates you into his house, from the snow into somewhere warm. A place that he crafted all on his own. Shaped with his own hands. A real possession, all his own. 

When you enter, you don’t say anything, only tightening your grip on his hand.

“I like it,” You smile, soft and dreamy, worrying the strap of your backpack. “... Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay?”

“Of course,” Keigo assures you. Of course, it was okay for you to stay. “I’m happy to have you here, especially when the other option is one of the shelters.”

You wouldn’t have lasted a day with your bum leg and natural softness.

The thought has him gulping, the heat flaring in his chest as he tugs you closer, ghosting his lips over your temple.

With only a bit of stumbling, he shows you the rest of the home.

...

You’re quiet the rest of the day, curled up on the couch in the same clothes you left the hospital in. There’s clear exhaustion in your face, from the dark circles ringing your eyes and the tremble in your hand and leg. Keigo is content to cover you in a nice knit blanket he purchased down in the nearby town, and let you rest.

His own back burns when he catches glimpses of your scar. It ran down all the way to your ankle, even bleeding onto the top of your foot. The gnarled flesh brings back memories of screaming and metallic exam rooms.

And he, like you, stares at a wall for a while before making dinner.

 You can’t manage much.

The TV glows with some show you might’ve watched and been engrossed in it.  But the hollow feeling in your chest keeps you submerged in the static of your skull. It’s more comfortable than acknowledging how quickly the picture moves in front of you.

Your only motion is a ‘light’ scratching over the thin fabric of your pants.

‘Light’.

He enters sometime later, bearing food and an easy smile that falls all-too quickly. 

“Hey, starshine— oh fuck,” His voice clips as he enters, setting down steaming plates on the coffee table and pulling your hand from your thigh. The tips of your fingers are stained with enough blood to make your eyebrows shoot up. 

Your eyes shoot to your leg, where you’d apparently tore through the thin fabric of your pants and torn your skin up without even thinking. So close to the scar—

Heat flares between, light bouncing in your eyes as you cover the hole, “S-sorry, fuck, I didn’t even realize.”

“It’s okay, it happens,” Keigo assures you, softer than you’ve ever heard him. “Let’s clean you up quick and then eat, okay?”

You nod, exhaling a weight from your chest as the light skitters out of your eyes. 

And the heat fades from the room. The absence of it chills Keigo, and the abruptness makes his nose scrunch. 

He patches you up quickly and with a precision that screams ‘yes, I have done this far too many times.’ The wound isn’t too severe, just a nasty-looking scratch. The dried blood on your finger is wiped away. 

You both settle onto the couch, eating in silence.

Something hangs in the air, thick and unsaid. Questions and paragraphs that have been ignored up until now. Not out of will, perhaps just tired negligence. 

But, Keigo has always been the blunt type, so he finally asks one of the many facets that needs to be broached. 

“What’s your quirk?”

A little surprised sound lodges in your throat with a bite of baked fish, “My quirk? I thought you figured it out already.”

Keigo raises a feathery eyebrow, “I’m a bit slow these days, starshine.”

The nickname makes something settle pleasantly under your ribs, and the light, little orbs of yellow and orange return to your eyes. 

And heat fills the room, like it had so many times before. Like those first nights in the common room, stargazing in the lamp and starlight. It’s warmth that bleeds between his bones and tendons, through and through.

Keigo puts it all together, jaw going slack and eyes going wide.

Had he never realized it?

It does make sense, in retrospect and without a sinfully heavy dose of painkillers swimming in his veins. The heat that permeated all of the nights you sat, eyeing the stars and each other.

The odd heat of it all. 

You’d been warming the two of you. Souls cold from the sterility of it all. 

“That’s your quirk?” Keigo leans in closer, inspecting the little specks of light in your irises. The tell. “This whole time?”

“U-um, yeah,” You worry a hangnail. “I don’t mean for it to be activating all over the place, but it has been since everything happened.”

“Why’s that?”

You chew the plump of your bottom lip, brows pinched.

Without thinking, Keigo bows to the will of the ever-present, needy feeling in his chest and presses a little kiss to your forehead, willing it to smooth away some of your worry. 

I’m not upset, the action says, but the cabin is quiet.

“... You know how cats purr?”

Keigo quirks an eyebrow, “I do.”

“Well, I think it’s kind of like that,” You met his eyes, the light returning and the fire-like warmth tickling the hair on your arms. “Cats purr when they feel good, but sometimes, they purr when they’re not doing well.”

“... ‘Not doing well’?”

“If they’re in pain, or if they’re really scared,” You go quiet, tracing a seam on Keigo’s jeans. “They’ll purr to comfort themselves. It’s like that.”

Comfort themselves.

No wonder all those nights you spent together, you felt so warm. It was your quirk— 

And you must’ve felt awful. 

Part of him feels betrayed, just for a moment, before it dissolves with the watery look you wear as your injured finger traces over his knuckles. 

And the heat of you flares. 

Your quirk is a part of you.

“I didn’t think to tell you.” Your voice wobbles, yet remains vacant. “‘M sorry.”

You don’t need to apologize.

If anything, the knowledge only strengthens Keigo’s resolve. 

...

The first weeks at the house are odd as you both settle into rhythms of living. There’s an orbit to how you choose to live, though it’s not predictable or reliable. It can’t be, there’s no way for it to be. You float around each other like little planets to a fickle sun, unstable and wavering, but elliptical, nonetheless. 

You’re both learning to be human again with your own rhythms.

Keigo’s biggest challenge is dragging himself from bed each morning. The lazy bones he thought the Commission had broken and beaten out of him still remain somehow. Now that he has no obligations to tend to at the break of dawn, he thoroughly enjoys lazing about in the sheets, even if he’s just staring at his wood-paneled ceiling wishing that Dabi had finished the job and burned him dead.

He’s doing great.

Despite his sluggishness, you move about on your own. 

You make coffee each morning, and curl up on the couch under the same knit blanket. A few patches of the multi-colored throw have been pulled apart by your restless hands. 

Neither of you comment on it.

Though Keigo takes longer to rise, you move far less during the day during those first weeks. You’re tethered to the cushion until the sun goes down.

It’s like the nylon straps at the hospital never left your wrists.

Your vacant nature scares him, if he’s honest. There’s an unspoken, massive wound you carry with you, both physically and mentally, and its manifestation is a little haunting. 

Keigo knows about trauma, knows about how the mind worked and how to, you know, deal with it. He is— was, a hero, for fuck’s sake. Trauma is in the job description and he’d had his fair share of bruises before he went undercover, before he killed Jin (REALLY don’t think about it—), and lost his wings. He’s stitched himself up by filling up his schedule with anything he could. Distractions. Things to occupy him, help him forget for a while. If that didn’t work, he always had a bottle or two of imported soju that he could nurse.

Again, coping.

The state you’re in is the opposite of coping, it’s being. Existing. The strain you carry from everything shows in you, and the way that it’s manifested terrifies him.

Keigo is smart enough to know to keep a few boundaries. He can’t fix you and he can’t get it in his head that he can. He’ll smother you; he knows he will. The solace he finds comes from being there when you need him, and always being close by. 

It’s all he can do to soothe what’s obviously an open wound. He has his own, that you tend to in your own way as well when you can. It’s all give-and-take, naturally and easily. 

You’ll find yourselves on the couch together, leaning and touching so naturally, but with no intent. Your little fingers trace shapes over his clothes, hearts and lettering he can’t catch. The heat of you will cling to him, whether your quirk activates or not.

He holds you, simply and truly. Tries to be a new, kinder being. 

...

You don’t have much that is solely yours. 

You’d been living in an odd combination of Keigo’s clothes and the single outfit you arrived with. It works, enough. Most garments are worn until they’re filthy, but it takes you a little too long to notice. 

Keigo notices.

One day, he sits down with you and his heavy, black credit card and helps you pick out... whatever you wanted. The guy is loaded and will be until he dies, and he’s smitten to help you pick out whatever you need. 

You’re more challenged by the task.

“I’m fine, you don’t need to do this,” you murmur into his collarbones, narrowing your eyes at the laptop screen. “I have enough.”

Keigo clicks his tongue, rubbing the fraying fabric of your shirt, the same, cheap scratchy fabric from the hospital. Your pants are soft cotton, old ones of Keigo’s that he should probably throw away. You adore them, and spend most of your time in them, too.

“You deserve some nice things that are yours, don’t you think?” He coaxes with some extra soft touches as you glare at the screen.

Perhaps, you think to yourself. Your jaw locks.

You deliberately avoided thinking about your lack of... things. The absence of all the bits of you that you had once carried tugs at something deep in your chest. Grief, probably. Loss at the very least. Your home has been torn apart and you have nothing. Not a single remnant of then except you. And you’re hardly a good cast of the existence you once lead. 

The world feels dimmer with the thought. 

...

The house gets cold at night.

It’s inevitable, with the chill of the snowy valleys and peaks slipping through drafty windows and cracks in the woodwork. It slunk into the house once the stars rose, sinking bone deep. It’s easier to ward off during the day. The little stray touches and the ambiance of shared presence helps. 

But, you slept separately. 

It’s cold— so fucking cold in your beds. Keigo hates it. Despises the way how it makes his eyes droop and his body heavier than it should be. Despite not having wings any longer, his other avian traits lingered, and torpor was definitely not in his top three faves. He can only be thankful that he thought to invest in an electric blanket for himself, for his nest.

Though it would be a lot better with you in it, the last thing he wants to do is push you. You’re fragile. Everything is fragile. Keigo has laid awake on more than one night, trying to make sense of all of it, everything and coming to the conclusion that sleeping in his too-big, too-cold bed would have to do.

Sometimes, there’s no way to swallow the state of things.

...

“Your packages are here.”

You look up, eyes wide and sweet.

Oh, yeah. Material goods.

Clothes.

Objects.

It takes a while, but the result of your shopping spree is a small horde of packages down at the town post office, all with your name attached. The idea of so much newness is daunting, but your few remaining garments are threadbare and practically falling apart. It’s necessary, you acknowledge, even if you’re terrified of not living in Keigo’s worn crewneck. 

(Change can be good, you remind yourself. The thought is quiet.) 

Keigo stands by the door, buttoning up his coat and lacing up his boots as you watch from your soft perch on the couch. The blanket has a new, wide hole picked in it, but you don’t notice. 

“Would you like to come with me and pick them up?” Keigo flicks his gaze to you with a careful, easy smile.

You hadn’t left the house since you’d arrived. 

The thought sends your stomach knotting and sweat gathering in your palms. You jerk your head side to side, sinking back down into the cushions.

Keigo doesn’t hold it against you. You can tell by the way his expression softens around his eyes. 

He leaves after kissing you on the forehead a few times, telling you he’ll be quick to return. It’s not often that he leaves, though he’s always timely on coming back. His excursions are never more than a trip to the town market, thankfully. An hour or two feels like a lot, but the too-still air and quiet of the floorboards without Keigo’s pacing unsettles you.

Not having him near unsettles you. The thought of having him gone for too long shoots something hot and needy in your chest.

(Don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave—)

Thankfully, just like always, Keigo isn’t gone for long. And he returns bearing a few armloads of packages and some takeout curry. You take it all, and him, greedily. 

(Thank you, thank you, thank you.)

...

It’s a few days later when Keigo wakes to you knocking on his door in the early hours of the morning. 

It had been a... rougher day. You had been a bit livelier early on, joining him on the snowy patio for morning coffee and even taking a quick walk around the neighboring forest. With the snow so deep, you could only go so far though. The motion of it aggravated your injury, left your gasping and clawing at Keigo’s arm as the scar tissue pulled.

The scar is still dead, thank god, but the impact is just as present physically as it is mentally for you.

The rest of the day you spent curled up on the couch, taking little sips of water between short naps. That night, you hardly touched your dinner. Keigo was smart enough to cut up some fruit and lay it with a handful of crackers and offer it to you throughout the rest of the night. You nibbled at the bits, but hardly consumed much at all.

You went to bed early, giving him a hard hug before retiring to your lonely room.

Those days are the worse, the bad ones. They’re the ones where Keigo wants to break all the boundaries he still has. The little touches and kisses he gives you are one thing, but there’s much more he wants to do. Craves doing. But, pushing you too far or too hard would break you. He’s smart. He knows that. So, Keigo doesn’t wait. He satiates all those protective needs. 

He accepts circumstance, just as he always has. 

(He doesn’t understand how much you crave him, but that’ll come later.)

             That night, things begin to shift. 

His voice cracks with sleep as he calls for you to enter. You linger in the door frame, clutching a pillow to your chest, like a scared child who’s had a— 

“Nightmare?” He asks, sitting up and tugging a blanket with him to cover his bare chest. 

The cold air of the cabin hits his scars. He hisses under his breath, shoulders drawing tense. You must notice, eyes going a little wider as you recede from his room. The darkness of the hallway nearly dissolves you. His chest aches, hands tightening around the fabric in his fists. 

“Come back here, starshine, come on,” Keigo calls, praying you’ll heed him. “It’s alright. What’s wrong?” 

Keigo half-recognizes that that’s a very loaded question, but you’re both a bit sleep addled. Maybe it will slide. 

Your eyes alight in the pitch of the room, sputtering with little orbs of amber. Your atrophying arms squeeze the pillow, and you take a few more tentative steps closer. 

“... We’re safe, right?” 

The question surprises Keigo, enough to make his old wounds ache.

One loaded question answered for another.  

It’s reasonable to ask. It’s very reasonable to ponder. Keigo has wondered about it too. The townsfolk don’t know who he really was, and he was quite secretive about the initial move. The world hadn’t caught onto the fact that ‘Hawks’ had moved him and his new love to an isolated little cabin in the woods, and hopefully they never would. Society had a lot bigger problems, according to the over-processed news channel he tuned into on occasion. 

Keigo was old news at this point.

So many heroes had been called out for poor behavior. Scandal after scandal, coverup after coverup. Corruption, everywhere. It was an industry secret, all of the bullshit behind closed doors.  Keigo’s little double-agent schtick and you know, murder of a good man (for the love of god, do not fucking think about Jin) was still bad, but the public had a whole new slew of bullshit to torch people at the stake for.

Still. 

He’s glad no one knows about your little hideaway or you.

“We’re safe, starshine. Very safe.”’

It makes his answer easier to say, more honest. 

You inch closer from the doorway. There’s a tremble in your shoulders that runs to your hands. You’re only wearing a t-shirt and thin shorts, maybe just panties, he can’t tell. Your scar runs down your thigh and calf, gnarling and twisting the flesh it dared to mar. The seam of it is a shining black that Keigo had failed to notice before. 

It reminds him of why you’re so scared and the types of nightmares you must have. 

“... Promise?” You stop at the foot of the bed, throat bobbing with a thick gulp.

Keigo gives a sympathetic smile, patting the sheets next to him, “I promise. You’re safe. We’re safe.”

You look skeptical, but climb into bed with him all the same. 

Something stirs in Keigo’s chest as you do. As he watches you clamor over the sheets and blankets he... nests in, the heat of it fills him. A combination of yours and his own, spills through his ribs and down to his toes.

He shudders with it, something needy wriggling down from

You sit up on your knees, sinking into the mattress and holding the pillow tight to your chest. Watching, eyes still alight and wide.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Keigo asks.

You don’t, you both know that, but breaking the silence is a start.

You push the pillow against the headboard, trading it to link your fingers with his, over his chest and pressed to the linens. 

You squeeze and let out a breath you’ve been holding. There’s a weight to it, like there’s something you’re actually carrying. There has been something you have been carrying, but only you are able to see it— feel it in its actuality.

But, that doesn’t mean you have to shoulder the burden alone, especially on darkened, lonely nights. 

He tugs you closer, mindful of your tenderness and the scars you both bear. The night is only lit by starlight, and the room is dark with the new moon. It makes it easier to be closer as you settled into the bedding next to him.

It’s uncomfortable for a few moments.

Despite how much contact you share, this feels different. The little touches, kisses and caresses you trade throughout the day are second nature. Comforting someone else who so obviously needs it. His person who needs it. 

(He wonders if you think of him as your ‘person’ too.)

You lay on your side, facing away from him as you fall into his nest, still tense, still on edge and unsure. It reminds him of those first days at the hospital, when you both had lost your tongues and yourselves and just enjoyed the stars together in oddly comforting silence and broken conversation. 

It’s a process, he reminds himself. 

Keigo slides closer, throwing an arm over waist and adjusting the blankets with his other. There’s plenty, piled on top of each other without much reason. Careful hands properly tuck you into it all, next to him, with him. He brings them up to your chin, pressing stray hairs back into place and laying a trailing kiss or two over the back of your neck. 

“... Is it okay if I stay?” Your voice sounds far-off, like the question is more for yourself than for him. 

He can feel the unease and fear still bound up in your shoulders. It’s always there, whether it’s a moonless night or a snow-glitteringly, sunny day. The tension he presses his thumbs into is held in all of the muscle of your back, in your hips, your hands— everywhere.

It makes part of him ache.

A few little coos, soft little rumbles, roll from the back of his throat. 

Normally, he’d be a bit embarrassed. But at the birdish chirps, you’re falling deeper in the sheets, the nest, and against his chest. 

“Please stay,” He assures you with a squeeze. A small comfort, one he’d keep giving. 

 The odd quiet returns, sans the little sounds in his chest. 

Slowly, tentatively, you turn in his arms. Your own lock over his waist, splayed low on his spine. The pads of your fingertips brush scars, the old ones and the new. It makes him writhe a bit in his own skin. It’s unfamiliar, compared to all of the cold prodding and meaningless pleasure he was used to.

It is the closest anyone of familiarity has been to the scars in a long time, and you, preciously, grace him with the softest touch. No expectation in it, just some much-needed, shared bits of love. Once again, precious. 

And you both relax into it all. The ambient thrum of the other's body, the shared breath and smells that mingle between you. There’s little pains and stings that never really go away, but with the other so close, neither of you mind. 

It’s hard to tell when your quirk settles, and the organic heat you create together fills the rooms and your lungs. 

All Keigo knows is that he falls asleep with your lips brushing the hollow of his throat, still and warm against his chest. The feeling of the living rhythm of your body with your breath lulls him off, content and hazy. 

...

You never sleep alone after that night.

Keigo pulls you into his room, or you pad in after brushing your teeth and pulling on your soft, soft sleep clothes. The bed feels a lot less big and lonely with the two of you wrapped up in each other, fully giving in.

It puts Keigo at a remarkable amount of ease. 

The urge in his chest to ‘keep you safe’ feels the most sated at night, when he can keep as close as you both can bear. Your hands always make their home at the base of his spine, or the fat and flesh between his lower back and his rear. The pads of your fingers rub away years of stored tension and weight, quietly and kindly before you fall asleep each night. 

During the day, you’re equally as needy, though you’re slowly becoming a bit more independent. You’re more lucid in general. Though the couch and worn blanket are your greatest comforts (other than him), you’re beginning to stray and poke around the house a bit more. 

The shelves have a few more familiar comforts, things Keigo had slowly accumulated to pass the time. There’s a video game console or two he’d never used, a few stacks of books he’d heard were good, and some tucked away art supplies if inspiration struck. 

As much as he urges you to take and use whatever you’d like, you’re still tentative. The first few times you pluck a crisp book from the shelf, Keigo’s back aches with how the old muscles that once controlled his wings tried to puff-up non-existent feathers. Despite how it tugs at all the wrong parts of him, he still glows at the progress.

You start to help him with dinner too. That’s some of your favorite time. 

There’s a rhythm to it, when you both start preparing meals together. Keigo can’t season food for shit, (though, he’s made leaps and strides with cooking that pats himself on the back for) but he’s quite skilled with a knife. Remnants of his training that have domestic applications. 

He doesn’t tell you that that’s why he’s so good at dicing vegetables and paring meat, he just chatters to fill the air. You tend more to the process of cooking, seasoning and watching and nodding along to his words. 

The more meals you share in creating, the more you start to speak up.  

It’s progress, even in something so small. 

...

But progress isn’t linear. 

It’s not even a goddamn line and it’s fucking infuriating. 

...

The depth of winter bears down on the hills, the house, and the two of you. You’re coping, both of you. But the momentum of it is fragile.

It scares you, secretly and privately. 

You feel fragile, and you have for a long time. Your scar remains tender, gnarled and ugly on your leg. You avoid looking at it at all cost, though Keigo has free reign to graze tender touch nearby it. 

That’s how you find yourselves, leaning on each other on the cushion of the couch and idly watching the glow of the television. Your cheek tucks over his shoulder and you watch with half-lidded eyes. You’re only half-there as Keigo changes the channel.

He hums after a few moments. 

“There’s a storm coming tonight,” Keigo tells you, lips just a touch dry against the shell of your ear. “I’m going to go to town and—”

 Oh wow.

You interrupt, fisting the front of his shirt, “Can I come?”

The question stuns both of you.

Your eyes are honest as you peer up, genuinely unsure if you can.

“Of course, starshine,” Keigo assures. You notice the way his eyes, his pretty eyes, look wide and bright. All for you. Wow. “Let’s get you out of the house, hm?”

Getting out.

Time has stretched out and you can’t remember the last time you left for anything more than a little stroll on the backroads, Keigo on your arm. Going to town and seeing people strikes something odd that has your stomach churning. 

You’re nervous when you finally pile into the car, both bundled up with hats, mittens and scarfs (Keigo wears a mask to better hide his identity, but he’s sure some of the townies have figured him out.) The tasks are simple. Stock up for the coming storm and make sure he pays to plow their little backroad out once the storm passes. Easy, things that wouldn’t take too long, but it still makes your palms sweat. 

Keigo massages your thigh as you drive into town. The comfort of the snowy hills and evergreens disappears, and it has you in goddamn knots. 

You squeeze his hand, locking your jaw. 

“I’m scared.” You break the silence as the small structures of the town come into view. “I don’t know if this was a good idea.”

You haven’t decided again. 

He kneads his thumb into the tension in your thighs with a little smile, “Let’s give it a try.”

“It’s scary, though.”

“I know.”

You pull at a hangnail with your teeth but say nothing else as you roll in and park at the small market.

The first thing you notice is the goddamn doors. Automatic doors.

When you see them, you want to climb back into the car, maybe the trunk for fuck’s sake, and hide like you’ve never hidden before. Go home and bury yourself in a snow pile with how your heart hammers in your chest and your breath catches.

Deep breaths.

You catch yourself, just a little. 

You keep walking, Keigo’s hand in yours and you enter the market like nothing feels as wrong as it is.  

The store is small, but there’s a decent selection, all things given. Keigo places a basket in your hands, tells you to ‘go nuts’ and ‘literally get whatever you want, especially if it’s salty or sweet’ and you heed him the best you can. He busies himself talking to the clerk, organizing with that honey-voice you crave. 

You take a few deep breaths and walk around the market like a normal person. 

(Even though, the last time you were in a situation close to this, you got that nasty, cute scar on your leg.)

(You suppress the thought for as long as you can.)

The basket gets filled quickly, but you stuff it to the brim. Keigo picked out plenty of good food, and had learned how to cook decently, but having some... agency felt nice, if not fucking terrifying.

You’ve got your back turned to the entrance of the store when the (automatic) doors suddenly swish open. 

A chill so cold and hard shoots down your spine and you freeze, hovering over a box of breadcrumbs.

One...

 How long was it between that sound and when he touched you?

 Two...

 This was a terrible idea.

 Three—

 It was four—

 Four—

Four seconds, you propose, as your heart beats out of your chest and you sweat under your arms. Four seconds from the door opening to pain. 

You wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Nothing.

Just more voices from the front of the store, a figure entering your aisle and then leaving.

You hate the way you're so rigid, tense enough in your shoulders for it to hurt. The ghost of the wound on your leg makes you want to fall to the ground and writhe, but you grab the box of breadcrumbs and try not to think. 

It works, and you land next to Keigo, presenting your filled basket to be rung up. 

You bury your face into his shoulder and take a deep inhale. Keigo keeps you close, tucked in your side with an arm around your waist. Your anxiety must’ve been quite visible, as he takes to quietly rubbing your shoulders over your sweater.

Things get hazy as you feel safer. Keigo laughs and sways the two of you as he speaks to the clerk. 

(Her sons are going to blow your little house out when the storm passes. The family cat recently got out and came back pregnant. Her husband has been reading some odd literature he found on the internet. Something about ‘the strong triumphant over the weak’. Her daughter might be able to return from her foreign university now that the travel restrictions had been lifted.)

Everything moves forward, even if it’s unpleasant.

It’s an awful reminder at an inopportune time. 

You watch your feet as you crunch your way back to the shotgun side of the car, only relaxing when you hear the doors lock and the engine thrum.

...

The storm comes, just as the faces on TV said it would.

You’re in the country, in the hills and mountains where the weather is already turbulent and changeable. All the same, the overcast skies dump snow over the land and blanket the world in quiet and cold.

Snow silence sucks the sounds from the air, sans the howl of angry wind. 

You’re tucked away and safe. It’s Keigo’s only solace.

After going into town, you keep more to yourself as the storm takes it sweet time rolling in. He recognizes the far off look in your eyes; it’s the one you wore stargazing, but there’s no kind smile on your face. Just a thoughtless frown as you go through the motions of your day.

It makes his chest ache.

(Part of him regrets bringing you with him to the market. It rots part of him, and he can only hope it sprouts again.) 

Finally, when the storm truly comes and the hills get heavy and crisp white, a bit more of you returns. Keigo wants to take the fragments you’re willing to give him and tuck them close, horde them and squeeze. The way he’s gotten abashedly greedy for you has him handsier and needier. 

He’ll take what he can get, and give what he can too.

It’s easiest to bear at night, probably out of habit. Maybe the time in the hospital fucked both of you up (yes, for sure, it did), but nighttime was the time where you were open and easy with each other.

The storm gives the perfect opportunity to all of your time shamelessly twisted together, only leaving for brief coffee breaks and light meals. Otherwise, you’re both nested. 

Pillows and blankets piled on the oversized mattress, all soft against your scars and old scratches. Keigo’s still fond of the color red, he can’t let that go, but he trades in the scarlet that was once his ‘brand’ for a deeper burgundy. All the sensations are rich and velvety, whether it’s the bedclothes you’re wrapped in or the touches you share.

It feels safe.

The feeling is something almost foreign to Keigo. He’s been getting used to it, even as the isolation weighs down on him. No one around means no reason to be so alert. The house isn’t bugged, there’s no villains or Suits watching his every move. He’s just a flightless bird, with no cage, but no captors either.

It feels amazing.

It feels even better that you’re always the heat against his side. That you and your perfect, sweet hands always know how and where to touch. Your words flow easier when you’re so close, so surrounded and so deliciously suffocated.

Keigo fills you up in all the best ways, and you’re finally able to breathe easier.

You tell him your secrets, little stargazing facts and facets of you that you’d held away and far from him before.

“Do you know what cosmic microwave background radiation is?” You ask, sweet as your lips nip at his jaw.

“No, not a clue,” He laughs, the giggle only you get to hear. 

You hum, shifting your thighs so it lies over his. Your hips grind, slow and unhurried as wind rattles the windows.

“It’s this ambient radiation that’s just everywhere, all the time, forever,” You tell him, voice going a little huskier despite the fact you’re talking about theoretical astrophysics. “It’s left over from the Big Bang. A little bit of the beginning that never stops.”

“And how do you know all this?” 

“A documentary, love.”

The questions fade as your lips slide together, lazy hands sliding into each other's hairs. You pull, only lightly, just to bring him closer. Keigo gets greedy, (again, always), licking into your mouth and tasting you. It’s all cheap coffee and the stale mint of toothpaste, and he drinks you down like the finest nectar. He sucks on your tongue, moaning at the way you keen and shift next to him.

It’s not enough. It never is, so he rolls to sit himself over your hips and grab your jaw in a tight grip. He can’t be too forceful, he can’t— his little birdbrain won’t let him do anything too rough to you, even if neither of you would mind it. He tilts your head just right.

You roll your hips up, breath mingling with his as it hitches and shudders from you. It’s so much, so much good, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. 

Keigo pulls away, eyes half-lidded to take in your own blown pupils. It makes something purr in his chest, to see your eyes already glassy and wide for him. Your neck is thoroughly covered in darkened splotches, already sucked and bitten while the storm sang. 

Little marks of him.

“You’re all mine, you know?” Keigo nearly moans at the way your expression goes gooey and sweetened. He tightens his grip on your jaw just a fraction, enough to make you gasp before he licks and nips below your ear. Just to make sure you hear him. “‘Everywhere, all the time, forever’, I’ve got you.”

“Y-you do,” you gasp as Keigo shifts your sleep shorts off, pushed away forgotten in the nest. The thin tank top you’re wearing is hardly covering anything, not that either of you care. The nearly-sheer fabric of it stretches over your collars and curves beautifully. It does nothing to hide the way your breaths heave or the sweat and heat gathering on your neck.

You’re bared to him.

And if Keigo’s being honest?

You own each other, in the most pleasantly fucked up way.

“Y-You’re so good,” The word holds weight, so much heaviness. Keigo groans, palming one of your breasts and rolling one of your nipples. It’s ambient, something to occupy himself as he resists your words. Just a little—

Your hand slips into the front of his sweats, bare beneath, and wraps around the velvet of him. Thick and hot, firm in your hand but not close enough.

You squeeze, almost in warning.

“You are good.” You gasp as Keigo pulls off you, leveling gazes with you, all pretty eyes reflecting the starshine and snow. He is good. There’s so much more to it than that, but your poor, fucked up little mind can’t synthesis it yet. Only that Keigo is good, warm, safe, and wholly yours. And you’re his. You stretch to ghost a kiss over his lips. “My good boy, always keeping me safe. You keep me so well.”

He stills, even as you slowly pump in his cock. It twitches in your hand, your thighs squeezing between his hips. 

Keigo’s mind races, in the best way.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” He murmurs, head tilting and body sagging to drink down your kiss-bruised lips. More, more, more— “You just need to be taken care of.”

“I don’t need to,” You lie, huffing. 

Keigo raises an eyebrow, biting his lips as your grip floats down to his balls, massaging them in your soft grip. It’s tender, weirdly vulnerable, as the whole of you two are.

“Maybe you don’t need to, you’re very capable,” Maybe not right now, but he knows it’s in there. “But you want it.”

“I-I like it,” You scramble the wording, shoving down his sweats, huffing again and urging Keigo to kick them away. Your palm goes to his cheek and drags him closer. “I like you a lot, love you, you know. You make me feel... safe. It’s a good feeling.”

It’s the most honest you’ve been in a long time, and it sits in the air. Keigo remains silent for a moment, silent and trying to control the way his birdbrain wants to take you. Wants to fuck you up and ruin you for anyone else.

You’re his, aren’t you?

“Good girl,” Keigo breaks the tension, squeezing your hips to the point of bruises. His, his, his. “I keep you so good, don’t I?”

You nod, spitting out little affirmatives between kisses. They dot his cheeks and forehead, slipping to his nose and downward. You pull his bottom lip into his mouth, letting out a little half-sob as Keigo’s touch drifts to your cunt, to your clit that’s swollen and untouched. 

More, more, more—

“You keep me so good,” You gulp, whining and grinding into the heel of his hand. Slick coats your sex, sticky and hot. “So, so good—”

Keigo drops down the bed, ignoring the flare of his scar tissue, to seat himself between your thighs. They get thrown over his shoulders with a squeeze. His hands cup your ass, slipping a pillow beneath your hips before eating your cunt like he’d die if he didn’t.

It’s one of his favorite things. Stuffing you full of him until your belly swells is another, or seeing the way his cock opens and stretches you until you’re gasping for breath and begging for more, more, more—

Keigo slips a finger into you without resistance. He curls it, unyielding as he massages the little knot of nerves in you that makes you arch and beg for more, for him.

You choke on a sob when he adds another finger, and he hushes you so sweet, tears prick your eyes. 

“Starshine,” He coaxes, withdrawing only to give your clit, a few kitten licks and slow kisses. His gaze flickers towards yours, holding your wet eyes. “Doesn’t it feel good?”

You nod, the meat of your thighs squeezing around him. Keigo would be happy to die like this, you soft and opened for him, crying for him. Broken and cracking for him, by his tongue, by his touch, Him. His.

“Who takes care of you?” He curls his fingers, and you throw your head back into the nest of pillows. 

“Y-You,” Your voice breaks and you rub at your cheeks. 

“Who knows just how to keep you so well? How to make you feel so good?”

He presses a third finger in, tending to your clit as you cry above him. You’re molten around him, and he laps you up until the smell and taste of you is all he comprehends. 

This is what you both need, isn’t it?

Each other. All of each other.

Your cries turn sour quickly, and it has Keigo jolting up, fingers withdrawn and leaving you to feel empty. The little sobs turned into hiccupping cries, one's stifled with the back of your hand. 

Keigo rises over you, tugging you hand away to get at your cheeks, kissing them soft and sweet. 

It isn’t often that you cry, surprisingly. You probably should more often. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Keigo urges. Please, please, just tell him what the fuck is wrong. He knows, you know, the meat of it all. But please tell him something he can tend to. Something he can stitch up because god, he needs to be useful— “What’s making your cry sweetheart? Tell me.”

You paw at your forehead, “It’s silly.” 

You sniffle and look at him with the most unguarded expression he’s seen you worn. The vacancy is gone, the hollowness and pain has been pulled away in the safety of that perfect nest and all that’s left is—

“‘M scared,” You mumble. Your arms curl over your chest, covering what’s primitively most precious to you. “I’m scared.”

Your eyes grow bright and heat, hotter than anything he’s felt from you, explodes over the room.

He’s half-choking and he fucking loves it. 

Something in his chest snaps and he worries your hair, bringing his nose to yours, nuzzling and nudging your hands away. He nips you. His poor little birdbrain.

“I’m afraid you’re going to leave.”

Keigo stills.

He sits with your fear for a few beats.

“I’d never leave,” He says easily, truthfully and fully. He couldn’t.

Those long nights in the hospital and the warmth passed between you had so easily gotten you wormed his chest, right next to his second and third rib. He can feel it, always; you’re ever present. He grabs your arms and holds them to yours sides. You’re exposed, soft flesh and squirming a bit beneath him. He wants to mark you purple and near-bloody, so that no one would think of you as anything other than his.

His, his, his.

He shows you.

Worn hands, a bit chapped with the dry air, pull your high to rest on his shoulders. He massages your calves, kissing your ankles.

“I mean this real lovingly, starshine,” He breaths deep, fisting his cock with a few slow strokes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You don’t get a chance to protest as he slides into you in one stroke. The stretch of him has you burning; he can tell by the way your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging into his shoulders as your little cries only get harder.

“Bear it, I know you can,” You had before, and you would many times more. The stretch feels amazing, even if it burns something in your core. You like it, how the pain pricks something that shoots into your toes. Only Keigo gets to fuck you up, gets to own you. “You’re always good f-for me— f-fuck, so fucking good—”

His, his, his.

There is, of course, the inverse.

You grab his jaw, your grip tight like his was earlier, and you meet his gaze. You blink away tears, sniffling, but expression set with determination.

“You’re mine too,” You squeeze around him, grinding down to the root of his cock. “‘M only good for you because you’re mine too, Keigo. All of you.”

Without thought, your hands ghost over his scars.

You have avoided them for so long. It was an untouched spot, something tender and from a time where Keigo was being that was entirely and wholly different from who he is now. It’s a piece of him that’s always been off-limits.

But you’re both so cracked open, you do it without thought.

And something in Keigo snaps.

He pushes you down by the backs of your thighs, folding your legs to your torso. And he fucks you.

His hips slam against yours, opening you up with pants and groans. You feel full, full of him in every and all ways, everywhere, always, and forever. 

You’re greedy with your touches, tugging him closer and uncaring of the way your nails scrap over his shoulders and arms. His body is yours and you’re his. It’s disgusting, it’s fucked up and perfect the way you slot together. It’s like little, scared pieces of existence slide together, and everything feels whole, yet open and uncracked.

Keigo fills you up with a sob, tears dripping down his cheeks as you pressed down on the burns and scars that rack down his back.

“Fill me up,” You demand, the heat of you swelling as his hand dips to your clit, circling and rolling with the little pleas falling from both your lips.

The world drips as his thrusts go harder, sloppier as you tip your head back and scream. Your voice breaks, hoarse from all your pleading and possession. 

Keigo stuffs you, tip of his cock pressed to the deepest parts of you. His cum, all him, leaks from around his cock as he gives a few more weakened grinds. He makes sure you’re full, content and sated and his.

He falls over you, coating your cheeks in kisses and praise. You sputter little sobs for him, begging for him to be closer, despite the way he still fills you even as he softens.

It never feels like enough, the closeness. But you’ll settle for all of him that you can get. 

...

The storm passes, and you spend your time much the same way. Fucking, feeling, and for a little, blessed while, forgetting.

Eventually, the snow stops falling. The wind that has been whipping the power into tree trucks and your windows falls still. It’s peaceful, then. Not that it wasn’t before, but without the weather bearing down on you, you’re both less hungry. Still greedy, just not starved.

You share the first morning after the storm outside, on the porch. Keigo had shoveled a little clear patch and you’d brushed off the two, brittle lawn chairs that had seen better days. You fixate on the task a bit too much, the steaming coffee you’re to share is forgotten. The straining plastic of the chairs is a yellowed-white and bright red. It felt strong enough under your fingers, cold fingers, as you cleared away the snow. 

It feels like a remnant

Whatever fixation you have on the object passes as Keigo runs a hand up your spine. His hand is wide and warm, still a bit warm from the toasty mugs.

You rearrange your chairs and yourselves to be close as can be, in your little patch of snowless porch, and sip at your coffee as the world begins to wake up. 

...

Oddly enough, the storm helps you make forward progress, at least a little. You take up making breakfasts on your own, occasionally carrying plates into the bedroom with a big, previously unseen grin

Keigo returns the smile so big, his cheeks burn for hours. 

You take to a few of the little crafts and things Keigo has been hoarding. Paper folding and little canvases with acrylic painting are your favorites. Sometimes, you paint your little strokes and press creases from the comfort of the couch. Other times, you make you place for the day at the kitchen island while Keigo makes his day-long meals. 

There’s a rhythm to it that’s so good.

It’s progress, and seeing it visibly start to the fill the walls feels good for both of you. Your little canvases get hung around the cabin, little portraits of the stars and their mother, all for you and Keigo to admire. ;;

 ...

             He gets the call exactly three weeks after the storm passes. 

Keigo awakes before you to the shrill ring of his cell. It vibrates against the bedside table, loud enough to wake the both of you. You both startle out of sleep, squeezing each other. 

He takes the call in the other room, after he sees the contact name.

[Suits] Calling...

 He paces as he listens to her drone on.

There’s no greeting, no “hey, how does it feel to be a flightless fucking failure?”. It’s business. Just business. It’s always been like that with her, and the lot of suits that treated him like a fixture until he got particularly cracked and unsightly.

“So, you come into Tokyo, we’ll do a small event—”

“The event you’re describing really doesn’t sound small,” Keigo tilts his head and gives an angry smile to his own reflection in the mirror. “It sounds like a circus that I really have no interest in being a part of.”

“It’s for the people, Hawks—”

It makes him snap.

“Stop fucking calling me that.” He growls into the receiver, grip tight enough to hurt. “Stop calling me, stop asking me, I am not coming back.”

The woman is silent on the line for a beat, before spitting, “What if I didn’t give you a choice?”

His blood runs cold before burning in his veins. And he laughs.

“You think you could?” He only feels a little hysterical. “You don’t have any power, not over me, not over anyone else as far as I’ve seen, Madam President!” 

“Hawks—”

Shut up, shut up, shut UP.

“The Commission is dead, the world is in chaos, and putting the corpse of a hero on the big screen isn’t going to convince anyone that this is all fixable,” Keigo chest gets tight, and he can’t tell if it’s from the uncomfortable laughter he’s spitting or the sobs that are locked in his chest. 

“So, you’d rather turn your back on the people you swore to protect?” Suits speaks with no emotion, not an ounce of feeling. “Selfish.”

Selfish, selfish, selfish. The word echoes in his mind, worms its way down his throat and suffocates him. 

“You’re really going to say that to me? Of all fucking people?” He feels his nails break skin where he’d been clenching his fist. “Me, selfish?”

“You left, didn’t you? Ran away?” The woman has the stones to fucking laugh. “Everyone’s lost something. You’re not special, and it doesn’t justify—”

“What the fuck are you getting out of this?” Keigo interrupts, burning, burning— “Did you call me to go to this little gala or did you call to dig into your perfect little hero? You told me I could be done. Should’ve known you were lying, you always lie—”

“You’re being childish.”

“Oh my GOD!” Keigo nearly screams and doesn’t notice how you’ve tip-toed from the bedroom. “Do you hear yourself?”

“I hear you screaming at me, the woman who practically raised you, like some petulant brat. Get a grip, Hawks.” 

He snaps.

“STOP FUCKING CALLING ME THAT!” He screams into the phone, vision going white and scarlet. “I am not Hawks! Hawks is DEAD! Why can’t you understand that? There’s no fucking hero to attend your little ‘healing’ gala, there’s just me. ‘Childish’, ‘selfish’, and wingless, babe. That’s what I’ve got, and this is what I am.”

Suits takes an audible sigh, and Keigo can almost see how she’s shaking her head at him, “You’re being ridiculous, Hawks. Take at least a goddamn ounce of responsibility for your actions that helped cause all... this.”

Ah, there it is. The thing Hawks has so properly compartmentalized, tucked so far back in his psyche that it’s almost impossible to reach.

How much of the dissolution of... everything is on him?

Something in him snaps, and it slips through his own fingers. 

  “I’m not going and this, Madam President? This is for me.”

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

He hears her unspoken words echoing in his skull as he hangs up, slamming the phone on the countertop.

Something hotter than rage and more poisonous than pain fills his blood, and it makes him want to both wretch and break his fingers in the same breath. He slams a fist onto the phone, cracking it against the countertop. He can buy a new one— 

“S-Sweetpea?”

Keigo freezes.

You’re at the mouth of the hallway, hardly out of the shadows, eyes wide and fearful. His chest somehow gets even tighter. 

Normally, he would’ve rushed to comfort you, calmed himself down to console you for seeing his little outburst.

But he doesn’t that day.

He breaths ragged with his lips slowly curling, panic’s ugly cousin turning his spit acrid behind his teeth.

“Here, let’s go back to bed, okay? We can—” You take a few steps closer, hand outstretched and eyes beginning to light.

Oh, and Keigo’s hit by fucking envy, and it’s over. 

“Don’t.” 

You freeze, “Pretty eyes—”

“Don’t, just don’t.”

You don’t move as Keigo trudges to the door, throws on his thick parka and snow boots, pocketing his keys and grumbles to you that there’s leftovers in the fridge.

It’s shitty and selfish.

And he just doesn’t care.

He can’t make himself care as the door slams shut behind him, the sound echoing off the trees and so quickly dampened by the snow. 

...

Keigo drives, white noise in his ear that echoes the wind in the treetops of the mountains he’s descending. He’s only half there as he leaves town. 

It’s still too much. 

...

You, on the other hand? 

You’re frozen, stuck-still, as you watch Keigo climb into the car and drive off. Maybe your mouth has gone a bit agape, you aren’t aware of your body. 

You panic. 

There’s no other word for it, not that you were able to think of as you were untrenched in it. 

There’s something thick and knotted that is rolling unraveling in your chest. The... thing is worse than a feeling and runs deeper and hotter than you can manage.

You tried to manage it.

While Keigo is god fucking knows where, you paced the house, always within eyeshot of a window. Hoping for a glimpse of his dark parka, or the tufts of his blonde sticking out in the snow, a return—

Fucking nothing.

He just left.

No return time, no destination, just a departure with no explanation. He’d obviously left the cabin before, you’d handled those times quite well, but he’d never stormed out. Never raised his voice and screamed and then just left. 

Is he okay? 

(You heard most of the call, at least his side of it. Is that awful Hero Commission he told you about calling him back? Or even worse, dragging him away.)

(He’d tell you, wouldn’t he?)

(Guess you’ll never know! Because he’s fucking gone.)

It made something seize in your chest, hot and awful as you walked your circuit, praying. Worry is damning. 

How could he just... leave?

You need him back.

You alone without him.

Your thoughts rot you, despite the winter’s cold outside. The chill of the cabin seeps into your bones, coats them and leaves you sticky and downright paranoid. The lack of... presence (his presence) was driving you up a wall. The air is too still, the floors quiet and without the telltale old creaks of movement that you’ve become accustomed to, and the cabin is silent other than your breathing and rabbit’s heart.

Beneath the anger was a thick layer of fear. 

You are alone.

The feeling rolled its way into you as the sun began to dip lower in the sky.

What if he never comes back?

Of course he is, you remind yourself, hurriedly, worrying the scary on your leg and picking at the core of it. He wouldn’t leave.

Why wouldn’t he?

The thought gets your poor little heart racing faster, air choking in your lungs. Your head whips to the window to see the empty, snowy driveway.

“I-I’m alone,” You break the silence of the house, the walls answering with their pensive quiet and the wind shaking the fresh snow from thin branches just outside.

All alone.

All fucked up and broken and fucking alone.

“He wouldn’t leave,” You start talking to yourself, threading a hand in your hair, gripping. “He cares, he wouldn’t just leave.”

He cared about being a hero too and he left everyone else.

What if things changed? 

Insecurities, new ones and old ones, cloud your mind and vision and stuffed your lungs. The grip on your hair goes tighter. 

All alone in the mountains.

All.

Alone.

It scares you more than anything, how much you need him.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you tug at the roots of your hair. It hurts, but everything is starting to hurt very quickly, and a bit of hair pulling is child’s play to how it feels like your chest is being hollowed out.

You really have so little. It stuns you in the moment as you choke back a sob. The little house in the mountains, Keigo, and the starlight you still both enjoy— that’s fucking it. You’d never returned to your ‘apartment’, or rather the remnants of it. Any possessions you had were lost to destruction and unsalvageable. Your meager relationships and friendships had fallen away when you were bound to hospital for months.

He’s all you have.

“No, no, no,” You nearly trip in your pacing, dragging your feet as you accept your reality. “He can’t l-leave.”

The world responds with silence. The mountains are cold and lonely, just like you are. It’s cruel, it all hurts and after being in a daze so often, the reality of your situation hurts like a hot brand.

He’ll come back.

He cares.

You desperately try to convince yourself as you tug your parka on, throwing on your boots. You don’t bother to fasten or tie anything, you just stumble onto the deck blindly and scan the hill of the drive.

Not a single soul.

Something rotten curls up behind your teeth. Bile climbs the back of your throat and you have to swallow to keep from vomiting. Your chest is too tight, the world is too bright, and you’re terrified.

You’re not sure what to call the type of panic response you have; it doesn’t make any logical sense. Your heart runs in your chest, your breath is hot and tight, and you simply slip to the ground in the fresh snow.

And you wait.

...

Keigo drives until he’s nearly out of town, into some flatlands near the river that gurgles and churns nearby. The surrounding forest is the perfect place for a pensive walk. 

It’s the best place for him to just get it out.

It had been a long time since Keigo had just talked to himself. Audibly sorts himself as he walks along the bank of the almost-frozen river. He doesn’t keep his voice quiet, no, its full volume complaining. It’s anger that’s bundled up in his chest that’s finally being lit and the smoke of it nearly chokes him out. 

It’s not fair.

He does feel a bit childish, thinking about it like that. But hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t they told him that he’d done enough? He lost it all and was just starting to the plant the seeds for a new life to sprout. Couldn’t he just have that? He’s not the shiny thing he used to be he’s fucking worthless. And that’s fine. He’s made peace with it and can find worth outside of saving people.

He’s capable. Adaptable. And he’s doing it all at his trademark speed.

But the thing that makes his gut twist is facing everything he (ran away from) left behind. The only short statement he’d given after Dabi’s video was nearly as viral as the actual video of him killing Jin (don’t think about it, don’t think about it—) 

He’s not sure what possesses him to pull out his phone and pull up the video. It’s not hard to find. 

It hurts to watch, but he does it anyway. Fucking masochist. 

He’s standing beside Enji and Tsunagu, all of them in hastily tailored suits. They all had their visible injuries. Scars and brands that had just been carved and burned into skin. They look haggard, they look beaten. 

Because they were.

Keigo watches as he adjusts his microphone in the video and gives his statement. Stupidly simple and vague, all at the same time.

“The villain Dabi did not lie. I am the son of Takami, and I killed Twice of the League of Villains. It was all necessary. Please accept my apology for the upset I have caused.”

His voice doesn’t even sound like him. It’s manufactured and broken. He remembers how the smoke had charred his throat and lungs for the first few days, before he was transferred from Central to the big facility in the tall-tree-ed forest. 

He bows on the video and Enji begins his statement. Something solemn about the suffering he’s caused his family, how he wants to atone and how he is atoning. The public was too angry to listen and is too angry to listen. And the world Keigo ran from is the result. 

He lets himself cry.

Finally.

His shoulders shake as he hunches over himself. The tears slip down his chilled cheeks and make little divots where they fall into the snow beneath him. His little gasps turn into sobs, the kind that hurt your chest and give you a headache that lasts for days.

He repeats a little mantra between scratchy breaths—

“I’m still good.”

“I’m still good.”

“I’m still good.”

He falls against the thick bark of a tree and slides down to the ground. 

He let’s go.

It’s good for him, cleansing. Maybe it’s the rushing of the nearby river or the snow he's buried his hands in, but with each ragged breath he can feel some of that filth that’s clinging to him fall away. Not all of it, not by a long shot. 

But feeling the worst is the first step to feeling your best. 

So, when Keigo’s ready, he stands and moves forward. Trudges onward, albeit a bit slower. 

...

Keigo returns home just as the sky begins to change from red to indigo with the night. It paints the pines and evergreens an eerie, dark color, shadows long and deep against the fluffy snow.

His gut twists in knots as he gets closer to home. 

He’s tired. Exhausted. His eyes are still puffy from his tears, sore and aching. His body still feels tight, tense in his shoulders and arms as he grips the steering wheel. He needs rest. A good cup of tea and maybe a beer later. 

And you.

As weak as Keigo feels, he knows he fucked up... just a bit. 

It wasn’t fair to storm out. He isn’t dumb. All the same, if he stayed with you in the cabin, he probably would’ve said something he regretted. Or locked himself in the bedroom all day. It wouldn’t have been good or fair for you or him. 

(Coward.)

Probably, but he was also burned alive fairly recently, so he had to give himself a bit of credit. 

As he nears, his stomach drops. 

You’re on the porch. You sit on the steps, parka pooling around your waist as your head rests on your knees.

Something’s not right.

Some of his old, honed senses trill to life, seeing you. Something in his gut twists, the muscles in his back tense, the old ones that controlled his wings. 

You must be cold. 

Keigo leaves the car and slaps on a smile, “Waiting for me, starshine?” 

You twitch, curling over your body harder. 

Something is very wrong— 

He calls your name, your actual name, and you hardly stir. You all but twitch from where you sit, head tilting up just the slightest bit.  It’s not enough to ease any of the worry pulling his old muscles, if anything, it makes it worse.

He falls to his knees in front of you, ignoring the crack his bones make.

“How long have you been out here?” Too long, he knows the answer, but he still has to ask.

“... A while,” You murmur, barely audible. “You’re back.”

“I am,“ Keigo pushes you up by your shoulders, scanning your face as more fear curls in his gut. 

Your eyes are glassy and unfocused.

“We need to get you inside, now,” He isn’t sure if he sounds scared or angry (probably both), and he can’t make himself care. 

You’re freezing.

Too cold, way too cold.

Keigo had to take plenty of survival courses during his training with the Commission and he had learned plenty about hypothermia. His avian anatomy made him more susceptible to the cold and knowing the symptoms for himself kept him from turning into a bird-adjacent popsicle more than once. He’d rescued his handful of civilians—

(Don’t think about being a hero right now or you’re gonna start crying again.)

You’re not some civilian, you’re you and you’re in front of him with darkened lips and dull eyes and full panic breaks his ribs.

...

You remember how pretty red the sky was.

You like sunsets. 

You should see if Keigo wants to watch the sunset sometime.

Keigo’s gone.

You could drive—

Keigo drove away. You’re alone.

You aren’t sure how long you sat in the chill, but it was comforting despite how your fingers and toes began to ache. Outside, there were plenty of sounds and sights to keep you company. The wind whistled through trees, and the sky echoed a few, far-off sounds from distant civilization. 

It was nice. Peaceful, at the very least.

...

“Inside, you need to be inside,” Keigo sputters, pulling you up under your arms. Your feet drag for a moment before going flat, and you sway in his arms. 

Getting you inside makes his body ache in new ways, your weight mostly on his side. Old pains crawled to the surface as he dragged you to the couch, setting you down on the cushion and assessing you better.

His hands run over your body, over curves and divots he knew and loved and the chill of you filled him with dread.

“Your pants are wet from the snow,” Keigo swallows, rising. “I’m going to grab you dry clothes.”

As soon as he tries to move away, you catch his wrist in a weak grip.

And finally, half-lucidly, you regard him with terror in your eyes.

“You l-left,” You spit, lips curling over your teeth. “You left, Keigo.”

You use his real name and he really wants to die a little. 

Sure, Suits used it on the phone with him and it made him see blood fucking red, but it’s you, and you saying the name he never really had, for the first time, so fucking angrily makes part of his secretly fragile heart break.

He freezes, breathing hard through his nose as he looks down at you.

“I’m sorry,” He says softly. “Let me get you warm, then we can talk, okay?”

You don’t look convinced, tightening your grip on his wrist and pulling him closer.

Keigo gives in, so, so easily, dropping to his knees and pulling your icy hands into his. He rubs warmth into them, bringing them to his lips and breathing hot over your knuckles.

“Please, starshine. Let me get you warm.”

“I’m already warm,” Your voice slurs, entirely unconvincing.

“I say this very lovingly,” He says, somehow cracking a smile, “but you’re genuinely hypothermic. You can be as mad at me as you want, but you need to get warmed up.”

You chew your lip, cupping his cheeks with your freezing palms, “... You’re not leaving?”

Your voice drawls and Keigo makes a note to turn up the thermostat.

“No, god, no, I’m not,” He tries to assure you, shaking his head, but your grip only gets harsher. He placates you with a squeeze to your knee. “Please let me help.”

He can’t tell you how much he needs to. How hyper aware he is of your chill and of his own thumping heart. That protective urge in his chest wants to just pull you to his chest and wrap you up in him, in his heat, but that’s for later.

Your eyes' gaze goes softer, little specks of light bouncing between your irises. The room fills with blessed, familiar heat and Keigo can feel his shoulders slacken and some of the worry in his chest dissipate.

...

He returns with some of his own soft joggers, fleece-lined and well-loved. He grabbed a few layers, and an armful of blankets and pillows. Anything he could carry gets brought as his little, avian mind craves something he suppressed for years so well.

Nest, nest, nest.

Heat them first, then nest. 

He helps you slip into your new, dry clothes as your teeth begin to chatter. Thank fucking god. Keigo is smart enough to check your toes as he slips onto fuzzy, thermal socks, and they all look to be healthy and functioning. 

You’re quiet during the whole ordeal, save for soft breathing and snapping teeth. You occasionally grab his hand and hold it to whatever part of your skin was bared, mumbling something about how warm he is. 

Keigo eventually gets you settled and surrounded by blankets and pillows which you sink into, eyes hardly open. Only then does he feel like he can pull away enough to start the nearby fire.

It feels somewhat unnecessary, given you’re still heating the room. It’s probably somewhat for the atmosphere, considering the sky is nearly fully black. A bit of crackling flame and light would do you both good. 

(He rarely lights fire, but considering the flame is a kind red and not a fucking disgusting blue, he can bear it. Especially now.) 

When the fire is stoked, he turns back to you and deflates. 

“I’m sorry,” You say, all soft and half-lidded from the blankets. “That was... dumb.”

“It was.” 

Keigo can’t fight you on the obvious. 

There’s a goddamn list of questions he wants to ask you. ‘Why’s and ‘what’s, but he has a pretty good idea of why you were sitting outside and what you were thinking. 

He’s not sure you’d want to talk about it anyway. 

The couch creaks when he sits down a few feet from your little nest, running a tired hand over his face.

“... You know, this couch folds out,” You shift a little, slow and lethargic. Still cold. “We should sleep out here tonight.”

He turns to regards you, and it takes everything in him not to fucking break.

“Why?” His voice shakes and he knows you can tell.

You hum, leaning toward him, “Change of scenery. I think we could both use it.”

“Later.” Keigo agrees. The urge to wrap you up in his (wings) arms feels unbearable, the little avian tickings in his skull loud and needy. “Warm first. Futon later.”

You huff weakly, but lift the blankets to let Keigo slip behind you. His body curls around yours, finding the coldest parts of you and tending to them first. His hands clasp over yours and your feet get tucked between his calves. 

“Thanks,” You murmur, neutral and vacant.

Keigo doesn’t push you.

Instead, you stay tucked in his arms, still shivering, but significantly less cold. Your lips and cheeks look a far healthier color and they’re warm to the touch. He traces his fingertips over the curves of your face and neck, preening in the only way he can muster up.

You eventually break the silence, when the fire is all but embers.

“I heard some of that call…” Your voice trails off. “It sounded bad.”

“It was,” Keigo agrees with a little nod. He really doesn’t want to think about Suits and, you know, the rest of the world, but it feels necessary. “Very bad.”

“Who was it?”

“Old boss.”

“… And?”

Keigo sighs, squeezing you probably a little too tightly, “Why don’t we focus on warming you up from your hypothermic excursion and not my shitty life as a shitty hero—”

“You weren’t a shitty hero, Keigo,” He can hear the mourning in your voice and it makes him want to die, just a little. You cup his cheeks, eyes sad and soft around the edges. “You were a really good one.”

“Was I? News to me.” He laughs, the bitter sound tasting like bile. He hates it, the feel of it mixed with the heat and softness of you. It feels wrong. “I don’t want to talk about all that, starshine. Please just drop it.”

Your face hardens.

“No.”

“… No?”

“No, I’m not done,” You sigh, big and hard. “I think we’re more fucked up than we talk about, Keigo.”

He winces, but you keep going, and he doesn’t move to stop you.

“Probably.”

Your jaw sets like stone on stone. It makes him internally wince as your hands go to cup his cheeks.

“I’m fucked up, you’re fucked up, everything is fucked up. We can ignore it up here, quietly, but it’s true, isn’t it?”

Yes.

“Yeah.” He feels his gut roll, but he doesn’t stop you. His grip goes tighter on your hips. “You’re not wrong.”

“Can we just… Acknowledge it? Please.” You ask, beg, softly as you rub his cheeks with your thumbs. “Please, Keigo.”

He doesn’t know what to do at first. He really wants to lock up. Shut down. Lock all the nasty feelings in chest, behind his heart, so they can burrow into his spine and keep him moving forward.

He wraps his hands around your wrists.

Your eyes look glassy, tears sticking in your bottom eyelashes, but not daring to fall. Not yet.

“Keigo, I’m fucked up, I know that, and that’s okay,” You deflate a little. “I’m getting better. We’re getting better. I know we are.”

“We a-are.”

Keigo’s voice cracks, hoarse in his throat and tight as the uniform belt he used to wear. His lungs feel hot, too stuffed even as he tries to swallow the heat that’s welling up on the very back of his tongue.

“You are good, Keigo, I promise,” You lean in to give his forehead the lightest kiss and Keigo feels part of himself die in the best way. “Please, let’s just talk.”

And so, he does.

…

He tells you about Jin first.

You’d heard about him, the villain Hawks killed during the War. Published for the world to see, over and over, forever. The video was one you’d only seen once, during your early days at the hospital, but you could recall the footage on your grainy hospital television.

Your pretty eyes, pretty Keigo, cut him down. One of his old feathers, hardened into a stiff blade, struck Jin across the chest, arcing up to his neck and slicing a few important arteries  and veins. It was an imperfect job, one that probably made his death more painful and prolonged than it needed to be.

You don’t let go of Keigo’s cheeks as he tells you the story. You can’t, you’re too busy thumbing away the little tears that roll down his cheeks.

He speaks between sobs that break from his chest. Underused and much-needed.

“He was good, starshine,” Keigo curls in a little on himself, but you keep him mostly upright. “I had to, y-you know? I didn’t have a choice, if I didn’t—"

How many more people would be dead?

His body convulsed, the little tears turning fat as he collapsed into your chest and buried himself in you. Like he was hiding, and god, did you let him.

You hushed him, soothed him with little kisses, and listened.

“And then Dabi—”

You hate him, obviously. You only know his name and visage, and you hate him so much it hurts. Part of you wants to rub at his scars like he lets you, but you decide against it in Keigo’s fragility.

He tells you of the blue flames, how the boot felt against his back, how his throat burned for weeks from the heat and smoke. His grip on you goes so tight, you’re afraid he’s going to tear your shirt to shreds.

“He took them, starshine,” Keigo’s voice muffled into your shoulder, the sound of it rattling you. “He t-took them!”

And he slumps against you, well and truly, and can’t muster up another word. All you could do is hold him, rocking him from your little, shared spot on the couch and whisper to him little comforts. You’re crying a little too, breath tight and hazy as you let Keigo shatter in your arms.

He’s not ready to talk about his wings and that’s okay. More than okay.

So, you soothe him. He soothes you right back, rubbing at your sides, hips, thighs— whatever he can reach and touch and claim. You’re good, you’re the closest he’s going to get to permeance and he’ll be damned to let you go when you feel so good and he feels so fucking awful.

You fall back onto the chest, pulling Keigo with you so he can lay atop you. His ear presses to your chest, heart thumping in his ear while you lock your arms around him. Caged in and held, with the lightest pressure on the thick skin of his scars.

“I’ll never truly get it, I can’t,” You admit, quietly as you smooth back some of his tear-matted hair. “But I want to be here. I want to listen when you’re want to talk. Need to talk. You can dash off on your own, Keigo, that’s okay. Just know that I’ve got you to, okay?”

Keigo sniffled, peering up at you with wide eyes, “Are you sure you can handle it?”

“I am now, aren’t I? Just a few hours out from nearly being a popsicle,” You hum and joke, glowing from the inside out when Keigo graces you with a little smile.

It takes a few more moments for him to cover, haul himself up to the crook of your neck and breathing hard and deep for a while. Like he’s trying to absorb you through scent alone.

“… Are you okay?” Keigo asks, squeezing you so tight it hurts. (And you want more of it.) “You’re not as cold anymore.”

“I’m feeling okay,” You paw at your face a bit, rubbing your cheeks like they’re still numb and not flushed with blood and sticky with drying tears. “I just freaked out a little.”

“… Because I left?”

You nod, chewing your lips.

“I don’t want to be alone, Keigo,” You whisper it, though he already knows your admission. “I’m terrified of you leaving.”

“When I left,” Keigo rises to meet your gaze, gooey and cobbled. “Did you think I wouldn’t come back?”

“… Maybe,” You shake your head, refusing to look at him. “You didn’t say anything about coming back, just about… leftovers.”

You both frown.

“I panicked.” You shake your heard.

“… That’s what happens when you panic?”

“I guess?” Your mouth feels too dry. “I don’t know. I got scared. I panicked. What else was I supposed to do?”

There’s an obvious answer or two, but it’s unspoken.

“I’m not leaving,” Keigo rubs at your cheeks. “You’re gonna have to try pretty hard to get me gone, starshine. I love you too much to go easily.”

It’s a declaration, a strong one, and god does it feel fucking good to hear.

“… Promise?” You ask him as his palms cup your cheeks and jaw.

“Promise.”

“I heard on the call—”

Keigo interrupts you with a kiss, hard and long that steals your breath and makes your head spin.

“Promise.” Keigo breaths, pretty eyes meeting your heat-filled ones. “Everywhere, all the time, forever. I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s a start, even if that insecurity is so deeply rooted. The adoration in his eyes, and the sweetness of his touch tempers it all. It’s there still, just like how there’s so much unspoken that needs to be sorted, chewed on, and digested.

But now?

The embers in the hearth need another log or two. The futon needs to be folded out and I’d be best if you shared a cup or two of tea. Preferably something with lavender that’ll scent the cabin with the smells of spring and herbs.

Now, you’re both more than enough.

…

thank you for reading!!💞keep an eye out for part 3! 👀

ko-fi

#salem writes #hawk x reader #hawks #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #anyways ouch <3 #kiss it better keigo #enjoy this big boy heheh #kith kith :'^)

[uswntxfootball]

we’re just rivals (on the field) (leah williamson x chelsea!reader)

the “epilogue” / part 2 to we should be rivals

of course, the game she decided to come to was this one.

word count: 2418 ish

rated F for fluffy, I for idiocy (or injury), and C for charles.

——

it’s been about two weeks since you showed up to that arsenal game.

and about two weeks since you’ve talked to the english defender.

it wasn’t like you weren’t trying to talk, you just never had the time to.

training had been hectic for the both of you, and it always seemed like one was busy while the other one wasn’t.

“why do you look so blue?”

“jee maybe it’s because i’m wearing a chelsea shirt?”

jessie rolled her eyes before huffing:

“come on y/n you know what i meant.”

“do i?”

“you’re impossible.”

“no i’m y/n.”

“oh my god.”

you let out a loud cackle at jessie’s frustrated cry.

you ran your hands through your hair quickly, letting out a sigh of relief when jessie stopped questioning you.

truth is, you missed leah more than you’d like to admit.

you missed her flirty glances and slightly cocky demeanor, and it began to eat up at you a little bit.

by focusing on the task at hand, which was the upcoming manchester city game, you attempted to distract yourself from it.

it helped a little.

jessie could tell something was up, but after your previous exchange she stopped pushing it (for now) upon seeing your refusal to give in, and partly for the sake of her sanity.

you let out a sigh of relief when the whistle blew, signaling the end of training.

you grabbed your water bottle and jumped when you felt someone slap you on your shoulder.

“okay now spill.”

you turn to see jessie giving you a concerned look, the midfielder’s cheeks red and hair messy from the exertion of practice.

“you look like a sunburnt lion,” you snort, before taking a drink of water.

jessie scoffs.

“lions don’t get sunburnt. i thought you’d know tha-hey!”

jessie lets out a yell of protest when you spray your water in her face.

you shoot her a cheeky grin before making a run for it.

“get back here! y/n!”

~~

on the other side of the spectrum, leah felt the same.

she was however, less of a mess than you, and held it together much better than you did.

~~

you let out a little sigh as you stare at the tv.

there she was in all her glory, fuming and talking to lisa after a game, a sight which you rather enjoyed.

after all, it was kind of hot.

you rewinded that section for a little bit, and nearly shit your pants when you heard the apartment door open.

“hey i brought lunch what are you-“

jessie stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the tv.

she let out a snort when she saw you.

you were crammed behind the couch in a failed attempt to hide yourself.

“watching leah are we?”

you let out a grumble from behind the couch:

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

jessie rolled her eyes and you heard a rustle before letting out a yelp of surprise when her bag hits you on your head.

“you bitch you hit me.”

“yeah yeah whatever.”

you wriggle your way out from your “hiding place” and plop down on the couch, still rubbing your head.

“i think you made me lose a bunch of brain cells.”

jessie snorts.

“to lose them you’d need some in the first place.”

you growl and shoot her a glare before crossing your arms and huffing:

“i’m ignoring you now.”

the canadian rolls her eyes and shrugs.

“finally some peace and quiet around here.”

“you’re mean.”

“i thought you were ignoring me.”

“shut up.”

~~

the next game was a tough one.

manchester city was a tough opponent and you’re now realizing why.

it was chelsea’s first game against them since they signed the uswnt players, and good lord have they improved.

you watched from across the pitch as jessie was struggling to get the ball from white, your chest heaving slightly while doing so.

you were already exhausted and it wasn’t even half time yet.

your head snaps up when you see a movement to your right, and you took a quick glance to the stands to see the top of a red jersey peaking out behind a black coat.

that’s all you could see before your name was being called and you turned to receive a pass.

and then you got caught up in the game once again, too busy to realize what it meant.

chelsea went into halftime down 1-0.

your halftime talk was brief, mostly just emma giving quick pointers here and there.

when the talk ended and break finished, you were so determined and focused that you nearly walked into the door frame on your way out of the training room.

the second half was going just like the first.

the possession was deadlocked, opportunities were deadlocked, and if it continued like this manchester city would win.

so you decide to fuck it.

you’re getting this corner kick in no matter what.

as reiten prepared to take it, you positioned yourself right next to the keeper and the post.

just for a moment, you let your eyes drift to the stands, your eyes catching a blonde’s as you do so.

it took you a second to realize who that was.

almost instantly, butterflies tore through your stomach, and you barely miss the whistle signaling the corner kick.

just barely.

now you have to score.

leah’s here.

you have to.

reiten sends the ball into the box, and almost like magic it’s heading for exactly where you’re standing.

you could see roebuck beginning to grab for it, and you didn’t care, you were going for that ball.

just as your head makes contact with it, you hear a resounding crack and yours eyes start watering in pain as you hit the ground.

your hands were covering your face and you could taste blood in your mouth, but you couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

jessie’s hand and concerned voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“hey are you okay? what’s wrong?”

you groaned a little in pain and whispered:

“did we score?”

jessie let out a halfhearted eye roll before saying:

“that’s what you’re worried about? well you scored, but please don’t kill yourself trying to do that next time.”

you let out a soft chuckle before taking jessie’s hand and getting to your feet.

one of your hands were still covering your face, and when you put them down jessie lets out a surprised yelp.

“oh jesus! okay uhm we need a medic here!”

pretty soon you were surrounded by the medical staff, and taking one look at you they ask for a substitute.

there’s a ringing in your ears so you can barely hear snippets of the medical conversation, but you hear enough to know what’s going on.

broken nose. punched in the face by the goalkeeper. need to set it.

it’s when you’re being led off the pitch that you remember about leah.

your eyes widen and you turn to the stands, and you couldn’t tell if it was your angle or not, but you couldn’t see her anywhere.

you shook your head slightly and continued your walk off the pitch.

emma joined you in the room along with a few guys on the medical team, and said:

“listen, we can set your nose now, or we can wait until after the game. we’ll give you a few moments to decide.”

you give a nod and with that everyone left the room.

it was quiet for about a minute before you heard footsteps again.

“hey i haven’t…”

the rest of your sentence gets caught in your throat when you look up.

in the doorway stood the girl who’d been on your mind for the past few weeks, and you blushed a little at the sight.

“um uh i-how are you?” you managed to stutter out.

leah lets out a light chuckle before saying:

“shouldn’t i be asking you that?”

the defender walks up to you and gently places her hands on your cheeks, quietly examining your face.

“well it’s definitely broken,” she mutters softly, and in a sudden jolt of confidence you bring your hand up to cup hers in yours.

leah smiles a little at that and takes your hands down to rest in your lap.

“how did you get down here?”

leah blushes and smiles sheepishly:

“i may have had to sneak around a guard or two..”

“you wanted to see me that badly huh?”

leah gives a slight eye roll at your teasing tone.

“be careful, i could leave at any moment.”

you let out a loud laugh before wincing slightly, the action shooting a fresh wave of pain over your face.

“be careful, don’t want that pretty face to scar,” leah says teasingly.

“why would you like me less with a scar?”

“well i didn’t say that.”

you try to wink, only getting halfway before wincing in pain again.

it’s now that emma walks back in with the medical staff, who looks up in surprise when she sees leah.

“we can’t have visitors here-“

“have her stay.”

“y/n we really can’t-“

“nope she’s staying.”

your coach lets out a defeated sigh.

“fine.”

and you hear her mutter something that sounds like:

“i don’t get paid enough for this.”

leah shot you a look before letting go of your hand, much to your dismay, and moved to a spot next to you, out of their way.

“so y/n, did you decide t-“

“set it now.”

emma gives the medical staff a thumbs up and  the go ahead and glances quickly at you and leah with an expression of oh look, more gays, before heading out back onto the pitch.

a gruff voice focuses your attention back to the foreground.

“alright y/n, my name is charles, and i’ll be setting your nose today.”

you give an attempt at a snort, and wince before saying:

“sounds like you’re my waiter or something.”

charles gives a hearty chuckle, and as he examines your face says:

“this one’s got a sense of humor huh.”

you let out a wink in leah’s direction before saying:

“oh you know it.”

charles turns with his back to you, looking through his equipment bag and says:

“okay this might hurt a bit, so i recommend grabbing something, not me preferably.”

“do people do that?”

charles turns to you with a bit of tape and gauze in his hands and places them on the table beside you.

“like you wouldn’t believe.”

you let out a laugh.

“alright let’s get this over with.”

“okay then, since they still have a game going on, please try not to yell.”

you felt his hands on your face and you braced yourself for it.

“alright ready? on the count of 3.”

“1.”

“2.”

your hand shot out in leah’s direction and the defender took it without hesitation.

“3.”

charles moved his body with his hands and the pain was almost instantaneous.

still, you gritted your teeth as your eyes start to water, not noticing how tightly you clamped onto leah’s hand.

it’s only after when charles is wrapping your nose that leah whispers:

“i know we play football but i kind of still need my hand.”

“sorry,” you mutter, relaxing your grip, and at the same time refusing to let go of her.

“all righty! took it like a champ, you didn’t even yell.”

you shrug before saying nonchalantly, “yeah i’m not much of a screamer.”

you grinned cheekily when you notice leah’s eyes widening and cheeks reddening.

as charles was packing up his stuff, he asks:

“so is this your girlfriend?”

it was silent for a few seconds, and charles turns to look at the two of you.

“i’m sensing like a we’re friends but we flirted a bit and now we don’t know where we stand kind of a vibe.”

you and leah speak at the same time.

“yeah.”

“exactly.”

charles picked up his bag and said:

“i figured. anyways you guys look cute together, and i’m gonna go back to the game now.”

and with that said, he gave you a little wave and walked out of the room.

“well he was fun, i liked him,” you said to leah, who smiled and nodded a bit in agreement.

the two of you chatted about meaningless things for a little while, before you shot up suddenly and pulled her with you.

“come on, let’s get out of here.”

leah scrunched her eyebrows up in confusion.

“where are we going?”

you grin at her.

“well i promised i’d take you on a date if you came to my game didn’t i?”

leah’s cheeks flush a little and she says:

“w-“

jessie’s voice cuts leah’s response short.

“y/n! how are you doin-oh.”

the canadian’s eyes flickered between your face and leah’s face, before moving towards your joined hands.

a teasing smile made its way onto her face and before you could stop it, jessie stepped forward and began talking to leah.

“hey, i’m jessie, also y/n’s best friend, you must be the one who-“

you let go of leah’s hand and cut in with a pitiful attempt to stop her from talking.

“NOPE I’M GOING TO LEAVE IM-“

leah crossed her arms and watched the two of you with an amused smirk plastered on her face.

“got y/n, a diehard chelsea fan i tell you, to-“

“NOPE NOPE NOPE JESSIE LETS NOT-“

“buy an arsenal jersey. yours to be exact.”

you groaned and your face flushed red with embarrassment, closing your eyes and turning to face the wall.

you spun around and took leah’s hand, dragging her out of the room while flipping off jessie.

you hear jessie yell from behind you:

“love you too y/n!”

it’s when the two of you made your way out of the stadium when she says:

“so an arsenal jersey huh?”

your cheeks flush redder and you mumble:

“shut up.”

“i’ll bet it looks great on you,” leah added with a wink.

“it’ll look even better on your bedroom floor,” you retort.

leah’s eyes widened a little as her face became blood red.

“what?”

you grin cockily.

“nothing!”

leah just looked at you in utter disbelief.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines