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mostlycompetentwriter · 5 years ago

Text

Sunshine

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Han Jisung (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 12K

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut and Language

Summary: Y/N has loved Jisung for her entire life and she would never dream of marrying anyone else. Of course, their life together isn’t always perfect, but they’ve always managed to overcome every obstacle standing in their way.

Note: Feeling soft for Jisung these days...

I was only 8-years-old when my parents divorced.

My mother, thinking herself circumspect, blamed it on my father’s long hours at work. But she wasn’t there the night I decided to wait for my father, watching him come home in the dead of night to quietly clean the lipstick painting the side of his cheek. I remember catching his eyes from the bottom of the staircase and the guilt in his eyes was impossible to dismiss.

Those kinds of unfortunate secrets are difficult to hide because they demand to be seen.

Thereafter, I can recall memories of sitting in different offices, listening to my parents bicker while their lawyers did their best to satisfy bitter clients, especially when it came to their daughter. I was a particularly harsh point of contention, but full childhood custody was granted to my mother who did everything in her power to push my father out of our lives, even packing up our belongings to move to the opposite side of the country. And New York City was just as intimidating as my childish imagination had perceived it to be. My first impression was unforgettable, a city that was large and confusing, constantly streaked with traffic and heavy with the low-set of smog in the mornings when the sun could barely filter through the landscape of skyscrapers.

My mother and I moved to the suburbs and started renting a modest home with the idyllic front yard and friendly neighbors who greeted us with dishes containing different foods upon our arrival. I had always been shy and introverted, choosing the comfort of my mother’s legs whenever a stranger would knock on our door, occasionally offering my mother a flirtatious smile. Like the older man who lived across the street who often made a habit of coming over to talk to my mother in the living room while I hid away upstairs, listening to the sound of their laughter.

Eventually, I could no longer pretend that something strange wasn’t happening, especially when my mother’s new friend brought over his two sons. They were both around my age, sporting thick accents that reminded me of the man on television who liked to wrestle with crocodiles. My mother’s friend introduced them as Chan and Felix, encouraging the three of us to get along because we would be spending a lot of time with each other. My childish innocence didn’t quite understand what that meant, but I wanted to do the very best for my mother.

Even so, I was still hesitant at first because Felix seemed to dislike the idea, ignoring me in exchange for his video games when I would come over to their house. Thankfully, Chan was more willing to comply, sharing his books with me since we both liked to read and the couch in his bedroom was extremely comfortable. He had a wide variety of mysteries and thrillers and my impressionable mind would latch onto those exotic stories and themes, picturing myself in the place of the heroine who somehow managed to always know exactly what to do in the most formidable of situations.

Eventually, Chan invited me to accompany him and Felix to the park to meet their other friends since I was having trouble making them on my own. Felix, of course, remained opposed, very nearly throwing a fit had it not been for his father who scolded his son for being so inconsiderate. Not that I was necessarily excited at the idea of meeting their friends since I would have preferred staying inside to read. Nevertheless, my mother was insistent that we get along, so I reluctantly followed Chan and Felix who were talking about some sort of new comic book that they were both reading. It was all very decidedly boyish things and I had no interest in superheroes who ran around in capes when the real heroes were the common female protagonists of my books.

“Everyone, meet Y/N,” Chan had introduced me, pushing me forward to greet the seven other boys who were all looking at me like I was some sort of extraterrestrial specimen.

One of their older friends, with a messy head of black hair, immediately crossed his arms. “No way, Chan,” he protested, glaring at me with intimidating dark eyes.

“Girls aren’t allowed,” another boy agreed, nodding his head with enough force to send his bangs flying into his eyes.

I retreated into myself with each subsequent insult and dismissal thrown my way. It was enough to ostracise even the most outgoing of individuals, but I was quite frustrated because I had tried to resist coming along from the moment Chan first proposed the idea. “I didn’t want to come anyway,” I snapped at the boys, surprising each and every one of them as I stormed away to plant myself down on one of the park benches.

I could hear Chan calling my name but I had decidedly had enough of those boys, including Chan despite the inherent kindness he had previously shown me. In fact, they could have fun without me doing whatever it is that nasty little boys liked to do in the park. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have enjoyed it anyway, even if they had opened their arms and begged me to play along. Of course, I was still deeply hurt that they had dismissed me so quickly, but I had always been a prideful child, which is why my first instinct was to lash out when I noticed a shadow had fallen over my wilted form. “You don’t have to be nice anymore, Chan,” I said, turning away from the approaching boy.

“I’m really sorry.”

I glanced up in surprise when I realized that the voice was much brighter than Chan’s gravelly tone. Instead, I met a pair of unfamiliar brown eyes from beneath a fringe of blonde-colored hair. The boy held out a flower, a wilted dandelion that had nearly lost its pappus, as if in a gesture of appeasement.

I accepted it from him hesitantly. “Thank you.”

“They shouldn’t be so mean,” the boy continued, waving at his friends who were busy arguing over a silly football. “You’re really tall so you might be able to catch Minho’s long passes.”

I paused at his comment. “Do you want me to play?”

“Of course,” the boy grinned, smiling as brilliantly as the sun bearing down on the two of us. “My name’s Jisung.”

I returned his smile. “It’s nice to meet you Jisung.” He offered me his hand which I gratefully accepted, holding on to him with an unrelenting grip because I had a feeling that I would never want to let go.

This might explain why, years later, I was still waking up next to him in bed with an expensive ring on my finger courtesy of dozens of saved paychecks back when Jisung worked overtime in college. On this morning, in particular, the sound of my alarm might have been enough to wake me up, but the unexpected presence of my husband’s hand groping my chest provided the necessary catalyst to blindly reach out for my cell phone. I silenced the unwelcome disturbance, allowing a low groan when I reached down for his hand because leave it to Han Jisung to feel me up even when we were both sleeping. “What are you doing?” Jisung asked when I tightened my fingers around his wrist, loudly protesting when he squeezed my breast in return.

“It’s too early for that,” I whined, especially when he started to rub his hard cock against my ass.

“Just let me put it inside for five minutes,” Jisung pleaded, his other hand roaming down to tug on my panties.

“What good will that do?” I asked him, slowly wriggling away from his arms despite the show of childish outrage from my immature husband who still sometimes forgot that he was an adult.

“You’re gonna make me show up to work like this?” Jisung pouted, expression painted with his betrayal as he watched me walk around our bedroom.

“Take a cold shower,” I said, tossing a towel in his direction.

“Y/N,” Jisung said. “Let’s think about the practicalities of the situation. We haven’t had sex in a week and my dick feels like it might fall off at any moment.”

“And if we look at this situation scientifically,” I added. “I doubt your dick will fall off because that’s assuredly impossible.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Jisung asked in an exaggerated fashion, burying his face into our nicest set of pillows.

“Because I’m meeting Seungmin and Jeongin for lunch and you have a field trip to chaperone. Plus, I don’t want to listen to Changbin complain to me on the phone tonight when you show up to work late again.”

“Seungmin and Jeongin are more important than me?”

“Lunch is more important than you,” I corrected him with a smirk, reaching for my bag. “Have a nice day at work, babe.”

“No kiss goodbye?” Jisung questioned even as the door to our bedroom shut soundly behind me.

Being amongst the youngest, me, Seungmin, and Jeongin frequently made a habit of eating lunch together on Saturday afternoons. It was a traditional affair, primarily allowing the three of us to gossip about the others without fear of reprimand. And ever since our Freshman year writing lecture, we’ve enjoyed greasy fast food while commenting on everything from Chan and Changbin’s sudden obsession with the gym to our theories that Minho was secretly married to a rich aristocrat who supplied him with the endless amount of money he spent on his cats.

“Hey!” Jeongin protested when I reached over to steal a piece of his steak.

“It looks better than mine,” I attempted to justify, speaking over a mouthful of food which my mother would normally offer criticism.

“Felix has been acting weird lately,” Seungmin randomly commented, a frown confusing his features as he scrolled through his phone.

I chewed the stolen beef before asking, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he only ever gets like this when she’s back in town.”

I let out a heavy exhale, understanding exactly why Seungmin was concerned. “How long?”

“A week or so,” Seungmin said. “He never comes out with us anymore.”

“Does Changbin know?” I asked, sliding my plate aside in exchange for this piece of juicy gossip.

Changbin’s sister, better known as the object of Felix’s most intimate desires, has managed to whole-heartedly capture Felix in some sort of deadly trance. My step-brother, notoriously known for being a playboy in college, became whipped around Changbin’s sister, following her around like a lost puppy begging for attention. “Of course he does,” Seungmin replied. “But he says that Kara hasn’t tried to contact Felix at all.”

“Obviously,” I snorted. “Changbin thinks Kara is the epitome of perfection. His little sister can’t possibly do wrong in his eyes.”

“I think Felix shares his opinion,” Jeongin commented, trying to sound perfectly serious while he sipped on his chocolate milk.

“We’re having a family dinner tomorrow night,” I said with a sigh. “It’s a good opportunity to interrogate my step-brother.”

“Please, Y/N,” Seungmin said, eyes round and soft. “Felix always tells you everything.”

“And you can immediately tell us in the group chat,” Jeongin chirped happily.

“Of course!” I agreed, reaching over to ruffle Jeongin’s hair until my phone abruptly started ringing. “Yes, Hyunjin?” I sighed into the other end.

“Y/N! We have an emergency!”

I rolled my eyes at his theatrics. “It can’t be that bad.”

“We don’t have straws! I repeat, the cafe has no straws and people are asking for straws, Y/N.”

“Jesus, Hyunjin,” I groaned. “Just go next door and buy some straws.”

“Y/N,” Hyujin huffed impatiently. “There is a bigger problem here and you don’t even realize! That kid you hired last week? I think he’s out to sabotage the cafe. I put him in charge of ordering supplies and guess what isn’t supplied?”

“The damn straws,” I muttered, suddenly having a million regrets for agreeing to open the cafe with Hyunjin in the first place.

“Now you finally understand.”

I carefully lowered the phone from my ear, cupping the receiver to look at Seungmin. “Do you mind coming with me to the cafe? I’m supposed to have the day off but Hyunjin’s losing his shit over straws.”

“Sounds like Hyunjin,” Seungmin smirked. “I don’t have anything better to do.”

“Hyujin,” I repeated into the phone. “Please don’t scream at that poor kid, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

The cafe was originally supposed to be an independent endeavor until Hwang Hyunjin found out about my plans and demanded some sort of involvement. Despite our friendship, I was still hesitant to consider Hyunjin as a business partner, especially considering his performances in the lectures we shared in college. Hyunjin was the type of student to arrive to class five minutes before the professor, desperation clinging to him persistently while he begged me to explain the homework assignment. Nevertheless, Hyunjin somehow graduated from the business school at the same time as I did, albeit without the honor’s recognition, proving himself despite the doubts of nearly everyone in our friend circle with the exception of Jisung who always managed to see the good in everyone.

Shortly after graduation, Hyunjin and I took out a small loan from the bank to open our cafe in a very strategic location close to a nearby university. From the beginning, I had primarily handled the more elaborate side of our business ranging from accounting and point of sales to ordering supplies and handling employees. Hyunjin, on the other hand, took care of the creative aspects including designing what he deemed an “elegant” menu while also trying out new recipes that our mostly college-aged clientele greatly enjoyed in the form of free samples.

“Y/N!” Hyujin gasped as soon as I walked in the door with Seungmin and Jeongin. “Well?”

I held up a grocery bag full of the straws I had just purchased. “It’s fine, Hyunjin.”

“It’s not fine,” Hyunjin protested, walking over to yank the bag free from my grasp. “I’ll have you know that one of our usual customers left us 4 instead of 5 stars for satisfaction.”

“What will we do?” I deadpanned. “Where’s the new kid? Did you scold him thoroughly?”

“Of course I did,” Hyunjin said, pointing to the kitchen. “I sent him to wash dishes.”

“He’s a cashier.”

“It’s punishment, Y/N,” Hyunjin said. “We can’t have him thinking he can get away with potentially damaging our public image.”

“These kids will still get their morning coffee,” I said. “They don’t care if we’re out of straws as long as they have somewhere to loiter around all day to finish their essays.”

“That’s another thing,” Hyunjin said. “I think we definitely need a bigger place and I know the owner next door said something about moving out.”

“Renovations are expensive,” I said. “And you don’t know if the landlord would be okay with us tearing out the wall to expand.”

“What if I found out?”

“Talk to Seungmin instead,” I suggested, tugging the younger boy forward. “I’ll see about this new guy you’ve decided to torture.”

“Punishment, Y/N!”

I rolled my eyes because I was still frustrated that I had to come into the cafe because of the worst excuse for an emergency in the history of mankind. But what else did I expect from Hyunjin? “Remember to breathe, Y/N,” I whispered to myself.

Back in the kitchen, our newest employee, donned in his decorative jacket courtesy of Hyunjin’s obsession with bright uniforms, was currently bent over the sink with thick gloves pulled up to his elbows. I felt bad for the guy because it was obvious that he wasn’t used to doing something like this. “Hey, kid,” I said, surprising the younger boy who immediately dropped one of the cups back into the sudsy water. “You don’t have to do that anymore.”

“I-I don’t mind,” he stuttered, eyes wide as he held tightly to a sponge.

“It’s not your job,” I insisted, carefully taking the sponge from him like he was a deer that might dart away at any sudden movement. “I’m sorry Hyunjin told you to come back here. To be honest, he was probably trying to avoid this work himself.”

“But I messed up the order,” he said, hanging his head. “It’s my fault.”

“Not it’s not and don’t let Hyunjin tell you otherwise,” I said. “Next time, call me if you’re having trouble with the order.”

I reached into my bag to pull out my business card, holding it out for his reluctant hand which was still slightly damp from his unexpected dish duty. “You’re not mad?” he asked reluctantly.

“No way,” I reassured him. “I used to work during college too, you know. I kinda get it, kid, so don’t worry about anything.”

His smile was sincere, looking at my card like it was the key to the world. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Get back on register,” I encouraged him. “That’s what I hired you for, and next time Hyunjin gives you any shit, you just let me know.”

He nodded enthusiastically, vacating the kitchen as if he was actually thrilled by the idea of returning to the register. I knew all was well when I could hear Hyunjin’s shrill voice from the other room: “Y/N!”

Jisung managed to beat me home and I walked inside to find my husband laid out on the couch with a glass of orange juice in one hand. “Headache,” Jisung pouted at me.

“Take some Advil,” I said with a smirk, ignoring the way his hands reached out for me in exchange for the possibility of a snack from the kitchen.

“Y/N!” I heard him groan my name.

“Sungie,” I returned his call. “I hope this isn’t some sort of elaborate set-up because we have dinner with my mother tomorrow night.”

Jisung was silent in the next room and I shook my head while dumping a sample of chips into one of our plastic bowls. I came back out into the living room to find Jisung rolled over onto his stomach, face buried into the cushions of our sectional. “Baby,” I cooed, trying to lure him out from his hiding place.

“I forgot about the dinner,” Jisung said, voice muffled against the furniture.

“I figured that,” I said, somewhat sympathetic to his plight. For as long as I could remember, Jisung had always feared our family dinners mainly because my mother had a personal vendetta against him. Ever since he first stepped foot on the porch wearing a rented suit for Junior year prom, my mother had deemed him unworthy of my time. Her feelings only worsened when she found out that Jisung was majoring in elementary education. “A teacher, Y/N! That boy isn’t going to be able to support the two of you!”

Subsequently, every visit to my mother’s house meant that Jisung had to listen to my mother read statistics on how poor and destitute teachers were in the city. Meanwhile, Felix also received the same treatment from his father who was absolutely horrified when he found out that his youngest son wanted to open a dance studio with Minho. It didn’t help that my step-father loathed Minho because he found him and Felix in the back of Minho’s corvette smoking enough weed to satisfy the entirety of our high school.

It was a complete contradiction because while Jisung and Felix were constantly reprimanded, Chan and I were bathed in compliments and adoration. “Channie,” my mother would smile. “How are your cases?” Chan was some kind of small claims lawyer in the upper Bronx which meant he made enough money to buy a Rolex for every day of the week while driving an expensive Tesla.

“And Y/N,” my mother would address me. “How’s the cafe?”

“We always do well around Finals season,” I told her.

“That’s wonderful darling!” she would always say while glaring in Jisung’s direction who would visibly falter under my mother’s judgemental stare. “How are your...kids, Jisung?”

“They’re great,” Jisung would laugh nervously. “I had to stop one of them from eating a bottle of glue the other day.”

I would laugh and affectionately run my fingers through Jisung’s hair while my mother remained statuesque-still. “How amusing.”

The pattern persisted to this day and I knew Jisung tolerated the dinners for my sake, but he always protested in different ways. For example, last month Jisung agreed to babysit our neighbor’s Pomeranian because he thought I might allow him to stay at home. And I almost let him get away with his impromptu plans when I remembered that Jisung would have to make dinner on his own and I was horrified by the idea of Han Jisung anywhere near my kitchen.

“Tell your mother I’m dying,” Jisung said, pulling me from my thoughts. “That should make her happy.”

“Han Jisung,” I scolded him, reaching down to gently massage his leg. “I’m not leaving you home alone. You’re prone to more kitchen fires than anyone else I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ll order takeout,” Jisung said, kicking his foot out against my thigh.

“If you’re gonna act like a child, then I’ll have to treat you like one,” I said, giving his ass a firm smack before rising from the sectional.

Jisung jolted at the unexpected contact, raising his head to briefly consider me. “What was that?”

“Do you not want to play?” I returned, grinning when Jisung immediately sat upright from his position on the sofa, leaning forward in expectation. “Does this mean what I think it does?”

“Perhaps if you decide to stop being so stubborn about the dinner,” I said, dropping to my knees in front of him.

Jisung’s eyes grew wide with lust, hands reaching out to pull my head closer to his crotch. “I’ll go to as many dinners as you want, babe.”

“That’s better,” I smirked, efficiently undoing his belt. “It’s only for a few hours.”

Jisung was ecstatic, pulling down his jeans and underwear. “I’ll just sit with Felix in the dining room alone.”

“Is that so?” I asked, curling my fingers around his hardening cock.

Jisung nodded, hair falling into his eyes as he watched me with rapt attention. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to him recently.”

“What a good sport,” I teased, jerking his cock a few times because I liked the way Jisung’s eyelids would flutter with his pleasure. But he was being remarkably good, so I decided he had earned an end to his apparent sexual frustrations. I took in the tip of his cock, running my tongue along the slit dripping with milky white pre-cum.

“Please,” Jisung begged, grip unrelenting on my hair as he encouraged me to swallow more of his cock, slowly taking him in until I could feel him at the back of my throat. “Can I do it?” Jisung asked with desperate eyes and I nodded once, giving him the permission he desired to move my head up and down the length of his erection, warm and rigid against my tongue. I made sure to moan around him because I knew the resulting vibrations felt really good, enjoying the sounds of Jisung’s grunts as he fucked my mouth.

While Jisung did a majority of the work, I tried to amplify his pleasure when I could like running my tongue along the prominent vein on his cock or using my teeth to drag against the fleshy part of him. My fingernails dug into his thighs, leaving behind marks that would probably vanish after a warm shower. Tears were steadily streaking down my cheeks courtesy of an instinctual reaction to Jisung’s cock repeatedly sliding in and out, hollowing my cheeks to accommodate him. “It feels so good,” Jisung said, palms clammy as one hand came to fan against my cheek, wiping away the smeared streaks of my mascara.

Throughout our years together, I had learned a lot about Jisung including his apparent oral fixation when it came to sex. Jisung loved when I gave him a blowjob as I discovered for the very first time locked away in the Janitor’s closet, tasting Jisung on my tongue for a few seconds before he was cumming down my throat, apologizing incessantly for not being able to last longer. As if I really cared because I was quite proud of myself for breaking him down so quickly. But as much as Jisung liked to receive, he also loved to give and feeling his tongue on my pussy was a guilty pleasure, watching Jisung eat me out like he belonged between my thighs.

“Cumming,” Jisung warned me, grip tightening as his hips stuttered, pubic hair brushing against my nose while the bitter taste of his cum was swallowed down with effort because my throat was now incredibly sore.

Jisung fell back against the couch, fingers pushing my hair back from where it had fallen messily into my face. I shakily climbed into his lap, kissing him greedily because there was no better sight than Jisung completely spent after a good orgasm, especially when it was because of me. “Is that better, baby?” I asked, pecking him on the nose.

“I love you,” post-orgasm Jisung told me entreatingly, eyes swimming with tears as he proceeded to plant dozens of soft kisses against the exposed skin of my collarbones.

Jisung pulled into the driveway of my mother’s house with a morbid expression. “It’s not too late to cancel, right?”

I ignored his comment, opening the door to step out into the bitterly cold evening. “Babe, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“No need to pretend,” Jisung grumbled, reluctantly following me to the porch where I hit the doorbell, smoothing down my skirt because my mother always liked it when we dressed up for these dinners.

But the last thing I expected to see on the other side of the door was Kara, especially a version of Kara dressed in an appropriately sized skirt. “Y/N!”

I’m sure my expression of shock matched the one present on my husband’s face as we both took in the sight of Changbin’s little sister. “Kara?” I questioned stupidly, holding tighter to Jisung’s sweater because I needed something to ground me in the reality of this unanticipated situation.

“You guys look great!” she declared. “Come inside!”

“Of course,” I said softly, pulling Jisung behind me as I stepped into the foyer, shrugging off my coat which Kara took from me to hang in the closet like she had been doing it for years.

“Y/N!” my mother squealed, interrupting the unanswered “why are you here?” hanging between the three of us.

“Mom,” I said, accepting her hug with a wince because my mother was never gentle in her affections.

“And Jisung,” my mother frowned, eyeing my husband up and down. “What the hell are you wearing.”

Jisung looked down at his corduroy pants which I had warned him repeatedly to destroy. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh nevermind with you,” my mother said dismissively, reaching out for Kara. “Look, Y/N, Felix brought home a very nice friend. Are the two of you acquainted?”

“She’s Changbin’s sister,” I told my mother. “Why would I not know her?”

“Oh don’t give me that attitude,” my mother said. “Kara was just telling me about the marketing firm she works for! Isn’t that impressive?”

“My brother’s jealous,” Kara said. “He’s stuck working with kids all day, isn’t that the worst?”

My mother giggled at Kara’s comment while I reached behind me to give Jisung’s hand a reassuring squeeze. I didn’t even need to see my husband’s face to know that he would be fuming over Kara’s words. “I think you can do Felix some good too,” my mother said, now leading Kara towards the kitchen. “That boy is an absolute mess sometimes.”

I found Chan in the living room, eating his way through most of my mother’s groceries. “Channie,” I said, hurrying Jisung along despite the way his feet drug against the carpet. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Chan barely glanced up from his food. “What is it?”

“In private?”

Chan offered me a blank look to which I grabbed his hand, forcing him to the opposite side of the room and away from any potential eavesdroppers. “Why the hell is Kara here?”

“Beats me,” Chan shrugged. “Felix said they’re just friends.”

“Just friends my ass!” I hissed at him. “Chan, you know how stupid Felix gets around her! Since when has Felix brought any of his ‘friends’ to one of these dinners?”

“I don’t want to get involved, Y/N,” Chan said. “It’s really none of our business.”

“But does Changbin know she’s here?”

Chan shrugged helplessly. “How should I know? I don’t see Changbin much these days.”

“Ah, you’re useless,” I declared. “There’s a potentially catastrophic disaster unfolding right in front of your eyes and yet food is more concerning to you.”

“Of course it is,” Chan nodded solemnly. “Why do you think I sacrifice a Sunday night at home to drive an hour over here?”

“What a good son you are,” I said, pinching one of his cheeks. “I’m sure your father would be pleased to hear that.”

“Y/N, I seriously don’t know anything about Felix and Kara,” Chan said, smacking my hand away.

“Listen to me, Chan-”

I broke off when my mother suddenly entered the room with Kara on her heels, holding out a tray of cheese and crackers. “Appetizers!” my mother exclaimed, immediately chastising Jisung when he accidentally dropped one on my mother’s coffee table.

“Leave it alone,” Chan warned me, sparing me no further attention as he joined the others in the living room. I followed him to the couch where I planted myself between my step-brother and Jisung, eyeing Kara suspiciously as she sat herself directly on Felix’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck.

“I think your mother likes me the least tonight,” Jisung whispered anxiously into my ear.

“That’s because Felix has something shiny and new for her to mess with,” I said, patting his thigh soothingly.

“Everyone, help yourselves!” my mother announced, ushering my step-father into the room with a glass of wine in hand.

I handed Jisung a plate. “Do me a favor and keep the food where it belongs.”

Jisung pouted at me. “You act like I’m clumsy on purpose.”

“I don’t need to feed you, do I?” I asked him, ignoring the way he reached down to pinch my waist in warning.

The remainder of our dinner progressed slowly, more so than usual because my mother seemed to have hundreds of questions for Kara. In fact, as opposed to Jisung and Felix being the objects of my mother’s contempt, that title seemed to belong to everyone excluding Kara. Chan and I were rarely spoken to, and Jisung was only addressed when my mother complained that he was chewing too loudly. “Do you see my son-in-law?” she complained to Kara like they were old friends. “He’s never had good table manners.”

I held tightly to Jisung’s hand when I felt him tense next to me. “Jisung’s always been that way,” Kara replied with far too much affection for my liking.

Her comment forced me to recall the very first time I ever met Kara back during my third year of high school. She was a year younger than Jeongin, so she came into our high school as a shy Freshman with only Changbin as an ally. And Changbin loved to brag about how smart his sister was, claiming that she didn’t even need to study because she could memorize everything the teacher said in class. But Changbin hadn’t been exaggerating and I had been slightly jealous of Kara’s easygoing nature, seamlessly inserting herself into our lives as if she had always belonged there. The truth of the matter was that Kara had been attending a private school for most of her life because of her higher intelligence. The school was located hours away from where we lived so we never saw Kara except in brief passing when she came home on the weekends. However, Kara insisted that she wanted a normal high school life, so she enrolled at our local public institution with the goal of making new friends and getting a taste of what her brother always talked about in their long phone conversations.

At first, Kara stuck tightly to Changbin’s side, but it didn’t take long for her to open up to the rest of our group, including Felix whose crush started the moment Kara first walked through the doors. My poor step-brother was enamored, jealous when Kara would start dating some of the older Seniors. Of course, it didn’t help that Changbin remained adamant that Kara never dated any of his friends because they were, in his words, completely unworthy. So, with the exception of the unfortunate incident of Junior prom, Kara obeyed her brother and only showed the other guys affection in the form of a pat on the head or a gentle shove when they said something funny.

By the time I graduated with Hyunjin, Seungmin, Felix, and Jisung, Kara had become another pillar in our dynamic, even appealing to the older ones like Chan and Minho. Yet, when Jeongin finally entered university with the rest of us, something changed with Kara and she no longer hung out with us as much as she had before. Then, there was the matter of her attending college in an entirely different state, only coming to visit sporadically when Felix would bend over backward to make sure she attended one of his fraternity parties. By the time I graduated from college, Kara was more or less nothing but a distant memory, only coming into fruition on rare occasions. Thus, seeing her here today was definitely disorienting, especially since it was only because of Felix that she was here in the first place.

“Kara, you’re such a wonderful girl,” my mother said. “I can’t believe we haven’t met before.”

I rolled my eyes because my mother seemed to forget my Junior year of high school almost as much as I did. “You’ve been such a gracious host,” Kara said to my mother.

“It’s getting late,” my mother sighed, glancing at my step-father who was moments away from passing out on the couch. “We should get to bed, but the rest of you are more than welcome to stay and chat. I know I took up a lot of the conversation.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jisung muttered.

“Anyways, I’ll call you later on this week, Y/N,” my mother said, offering me a lazy wave before collecting Kara into one of the tightest embraces I had ever seen.

Once my mother and step-father had wandered up the steps, Kara came back into the room with mischievous eyes. “Let’s play a game,” Kara suggested, urging us all around the coffee table. I groaned when Jisung pulled me back into his arms, burying his face into the side of my neck like he was prone to do when he was the slightest bit tipsy.

“No more alcohol for you,” I said, swiping the bottle away from my husband who protested half-heartedly.

“What do you suggest?” Felix asked, looking at Kara with starstruck eyes.

“Maybe truth or dare?” Kara said, squealing like she had forgotten that everyone around the table now had a full-time job.

“Why not,” Felix said, reaching for his discarded bottle of Corona. “Would you like to go first?”

Kara giggled when Felix leaned in closer, lips teasing her exposed collarbones. “Keep it PG,” I requested, glaring at Felix.

“Okay,” Kara said, taking the bottle and placing it onto the table.

“If someone can dare me to get laid, that would be nice,” Jisung said and I reached around to elbow my husband in the side for his smart comment.

I watched as the bottle spun around in its defined circumference before landing on Chan who groaned loudly. “Truth or Dare, Chan!”

“Truth,” Chan said, picking up his bottle of beer. “Knowing you’d guys, I’d be forced to drink the rest of this on a dare and I have to be at the office at six.”

“Are you seeing anyone, Chan?” Kara asked, leaning in close like she was about to hear a juicy secret. Of course, I knew better than anyone because I was often the recipient of Chan’s late-night phone calls when my step-brother would complain to me about his sadly lacking love life.

“No,” Chan huffed, reaching out to give the bottle a powerful spin. “I’m always single.”

I reached across to pat him tenderly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Channie, there’s a girl out there waiting for you!”

Felix let out a drunken squeak, turning to look at Kara with a smile. “Truth or dare, Felix?”

“Dare,” Felix said, bouncing up and down from his spot on the floor like a loose spring.

“I dare you to...

“...call Changbin,” I spoke over Kara, enjoying the identical looks of matching horror on their countenances.

“What?” Felix questioned, intoxicated brain undoubtedly having trouble keeping up with the flow of our conversation.

“Call. Changbin.” I repeated, much slower this time to leave no room for a potential misunderstanding. Unsurprisingly, Kara hesitantly shook her head at Felix as if asking him to ignore my request. “Those are the rules,” I informed her smugly, watching Felix as he took out his phone with a shaky hand. He dialed Changbin’s number and we all sat forward in profound expectation of what was about to happen.

That is until Changbin’s voicemail picked up.

Kara snatched Felix’s phone and quickly hung up the call. “He’s not answering, so let’s move on to something else.”

I frowned as I sat back against Jisung’s chest, frustrated because Changbin had probably chosen an early night’s sleep in exchange for answering a friend’s important phone call. “Truth or Dare, Y/N.”

“Truth,” I muttered, folding my arms across my chest even as Jisung started to rub gentle circles into my hips as if picking up on my irritation.

Kara’s eyes narrowed. “Were you jealous when I kissed Jisung at prom?”

The room was dead silent following her vengeful question. My cheeks flushed at the reminder, feeling Jisung squirm uncomfortably behind me. It was a horrible thing to ask me, especially considering the circumstances surrounding the unholy night that Minho had silently termed “the worst day of Y/N’s life.” But I suppose that Kara felt warranted to ask me considering the fact that I had just tried to expose her to Changbin. “Of course I was,” I snapped at her, twisting the bottle while maintaining a penetrative staring contest with Felix’s love interest.

My shoulders relaxed when the bottle landed on Kara, and I quickly intervened before Felix could give Kara an easy way out of what was rapidly becoming a terrible mistake. “Are you dating Felix again?” I asked, watching as her eyes narrowed from my choice of words.

“It’s truth or dare, Y/N.”

“Are you afraid to answer the question?” I asked her. “Or are you just using Felix like always?”

Another long silence enveloped our gathered group.

“I guess I don’t get a turn?” Jisung whispered into the tense silence of the room.

“Holy shit!” Hyunjin exhaled when I finally finished explaining everything that had happened at my mother’s house the previous evening.

“She’s a total bitch,” I said. “Everyone knows that we don’t talk about that night.”

Hyunjin nodded in agreement. “Do you remember the ugly suit I wore?”

I glared at my friend. “You’re not helping and we have customers.”

Hyunjin offered me a salute, returning to the register to accept another order while I aggressively wiped down our counters. One of our waitresses watched me with a gaping mouth until I turned to glare at her. She quickly picked up her tray to retreat back into the crowd of college students.

Now, let me start by saying that Junior year prom was never something I was looking forward to attending. The only reason I even went was because Han Jisung asked me to go and my attraction for him had skyrocketed by this time, to the point where I found myself staring at his ass whenever we had gym together and he decided to demonstrate the correct technique for a pull-up. Our friends deemed our relationship inevitable, the romanticized soulmates who met as kids and grew up together with agreeable personalities. Of course, it also helped when puberty hit and suddenly Han Jisung looked less like the little boy I played with on the playground and more like a man whose dick I really wanted to taste.

For a lot of my classmates, Prom meant an unsanctioned night away from the school where they could lose their inhibitions when someone inevitably spiked the punch bowl. There were no school officials present at the event, only volunteers, and since it didn’t take place on school grounds (but inside of a nearby YMCA) everyone could basically do whatever they wanted without consequence. Thus, the next day’s rumor mill was spinning with tales of romance and deceptions, break-ups and hook-ups, and even the occasional wild story of someone stealing from the radio store next door.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Jisung asked me nervously the moment we first walked inside.

“Sure,” I told him, affectionately adjusting the cute bowtie he had chosen for the occasion, cheeks rosy red as he hurried away.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin said, taking Jisung’s place in front of me. “You look great!”

“So do you,” I told him honestly, appraising his suit which likely cost a thousand dollars just to rent for this one occasion. “Where’s your girl?”

“Who knows, she was just meant to be arm candy,” Hyunjin said dismissively and I snorted at his explanation. “I only came here for the drama and the alcohol.”

“Anything interesting so far?” I asked, grinning when I saw Jisung accidentally knock the punch ladle into the floor.

“Changbin came with a Freshman,” Hyunjin said. “I talked to them earlier and he’s definitely only interested in her ass.”

“How crude,” I remarked. “What about the others?”

“I guess Seungmin and Jeongin came with each other,” Hyunjin snickered. “And I haven’t seen Felix yet.”

I paused. “Felix is coming?”

“It was a last-minute thing,” Hyunjin explained. “Apparently, Felix is bringing someone he really likes.”

“I didn’t know Felix was interested in anyone,” I said, with the exception of Changbin’s little sister, of course.

“It’s getting late,” Hyunjin remarked. “He might have been lying.”

“He wasn’t dressed when I left the house,” I said, remembering the sight of my step-brother teasing Jisung and I from behind our parents while they took an endless amount of pictures while relentlessly questioning Jisung about his appearance.

Speaking of which, I graciously accepted the punch Jisung offered me, taking a sip before wincing. “I think someone added way too much.”

Hyunjin reached for my drink, sniffing the rim before downing the rest. “Not too bad.”

Jisung watched him with wide eyes. “Isn’t that strong?”

“Not strong enough,” Hyunjin complained. “I’m going to find something better. Have fun you two, make sure you use a condom if you’re gonna fuck.”

I glared at Hyunjin’s back as he disappeared into the crowd.

Yes, Prom might not have been high on my list of priorities, but the way Jisung was currently kissing me definitely made it more appealing. After ingesting an appropriate amount of alcohol, a tipsy Jisung had latched himself to my side, whispering rather inappropriate things into my ear before I inevitably found a place where we could be alone, safely tucked away inside the locker room. I drug Jisung to a bench where I immediately straddled his thighs, kissing him with enough force to throw him off balance, hand splayed across my hip as he forced his tongue inside my mouth tasting strongly of alcohol. I struggled to pull in enough oxygen to counter the dizziness threatening to send me falling into the floor. Jisung certainly wasn’t helping matters, squeezing my breasts spilling over the neckline of my dress while pressing sloppy kisses to my throat, erection hard through his dress pants and I had never felt hornier in my entire life. And that includes the time Minho bought me a vibrator for my birthday as a joke but I still tried to use it and ended up masturbating to the thought of Jisung fucking me on my mattress.

“You feel so good,” Jisung whispered to me now, rolling his hips into mine as he sought additional friction. I held tightly to the lapels of his jacket because it felt really nice through the thin fabric of my dress when he would move just right, pressing against my clit with a wonderful pressure that nearly made me cum before he could even put it inside.

“Sungie,” I panted into his ear, tasting every inch of his beautiful honey-golden skin. “Please fuck me.”

“Can I?” Jisung asked, thrusts growing erratic as if affected by just the thought of his cock hot and heavy between my thighs. “Yes, of course, baby. I’ll do that for you.”

“Condom?” I managed, reconnecting our lips because I was quickly coming to the realization that Jisung was a wonderful kisser.

“Shit,” he cursed against my mouth. “I left them in the car.”

“I’ll get them,” I said, reaching deep into the pocket of his suit pants for the key, inadvertently brushing against his cock.

Jisung moaned loudly. “Hurry back, baby.”

“And this!” I said, standing up from his lap to reach into my cleavage to pull out a piece of fabric.

“That was in there the whole time?”

“Not important,” I said, shoving the fabric at him. “Put this on?”

“What is it?” Jisung asked, unraveling the cloth.

“A blindfold,” I said and he looked up at me with evident surprise.

“Why do you want me to wear a blindfold?”

“Just put it on, please,” I begged him.

“Why?” Jisung whined, a complete contradiction to the mess he looked with an erection still prominent in his pants.

“I don’t want you to see me,” I said, blushing at the thought of Han Jisung seeing me naked because I was certainly nothing like those busty girls in the porn magazines I found under his mattress.

“Okay,” Jisung grumbled, probably because he was just as aroused as I was even if that meant doing something that might seem utterly ridiculous to anybody else.

“Don’t take it off,” I warned him, glancing over my shoulder to see Jisung tying the blindfold in place.

Satisfied, I silently rushed back into the gym, making my way to the exit despite the obscene displays taking place all around me courtesy of several pairings of passionate couples. I did my best to ignore them, even though I was pretty sure I saw Hwang Hyunjin in the center of the dance floor, shirt unbuttoned and chest exposed for everyone to see. But Hyunjin loved to be at the center of attention, so I left him to entertain the majority of the women flanking to him like a magnet while I jerked open the door to Jisung’s Sudan, finding the condoms across the dirty backseat of his car.

I grew even more excited just by looking at them, hiding them carefully in my hand as I rushed through the parking lot in my haste to find Jisung again. At this point, the party was in full swing, music loud and pounding, testing the acoustics of the YMCA which probably never hosted anything else this insane and chaotic before. But I was on cloud nine, ready to finally have sex with someone I had been crushing on ever since Jisung had shown off his abs to a doubtful Changbin. However, when I re-opened the doors to the locker room, I stumbled in my heels as I was greeted with an unfortunate visual. An unforgettable image of Kara on top of Jisung, kissing him passionately while she practically forced him to grope her chest. “Y/N,” Jisung moaned, apparently completely unaware of who was actually grinding on his dick.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing,” I finally shrieked, completely horrified at the display that would forever engrain itself into my subconscious.

Jisung immediately pulled off his blindfold, eyes widening in shock when he unceremoniously dumped Kara into the floor who loudly protested. “Y/N?”

“Jisung,” I said, looking back between him and Kara with panicked eyes and a broken heart. I had never felt so betrayed before in my entire life, and there had been moments when I felt downright disgusted with my poor choice in men. But Jisung was more important to me than the casual flings from my past, which probably explains my sudden desire to escape the situation that was forcing messy tears through the mascara clumping my eyelashes together. I left Jisung behind in that nasty locker room before losing myself to the crowd of my classmates.

There was only one person I wanted to see, and I found Hyunjin now re-clothed, talking to some other girls when he first saw me approach. He greeted me cheerfully, only realizing my condition once he stopped to notice the tears falling freely from my tired eyes. “Y/N,” Hyunjin said, expression falling as he pulled me into his arms tightly. “Why are you crying?”

“I saw her with Jisung,” was all I managed to get out before Hyunjin’s eyes were practically blazing with fury.

“That little shit,” Hyunjin cursed, grabbing my hand and leading me through the partygoers who were too busy drunkenly grinding on one another to notice the two of us. “Changbin,” Hyunjin said, interrupting the older boy who was currently fingering the edges of a freshman girl’s panties, practically dry humping through their clothes.

“What is it?” Changbin snapped at Hyunjin, eyes narrowed until they landed on me. “Y/N,” Changbin said, tone much softer as he abruptly dismissed his date who whined about their loss of contact. “What happened?”

“Jisung needs his ass kicked,” Hyunjin said and Changbin needed no further encouragement.

“Where the hell is he?”

It was frigidly cold in the parking lot and there was way too much going on around me. I could barely handle the yelling between Changbin and Felix, my step-brother having found us outside with Jisung trailing behind him, but Hyunjin was arguing with Seungmin and Jeongin, refusing to let Jisung close to me. This night was rapidly becoming one of the worst of my entire life and that says a lot because I had once watched my own father walk out of the house without so much as a goodbye.

“Get out of the way, Felix,” Changbin suddenly growled, fists balled at his sides.

“It’s not his fault,” Felix tried to explain.

“Why is Y/N upset, then?” Changbin demanded, shouldering his way through Seungmin and Jeongin who were certainly no match for a physically stronger Changbin.

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Felix said. “It’s Kara’s fault! She didn’t need to take things that far-”

“Kara!” Changbin interrupted, now even more furious than he was before. “Did you do something to my sister?”

“Not him,” Seungmin suddenly interfered. “Kara and Felix got into a fight and Kara snuck into the locker room to get back at him.”

Changbin took a step back, suspicion bright in his dark eyes. “What did you say?”

“I thought it was Y/N,” Jisung finally spoke up, eyes wet with tears. “She didn’t say anything to me. She just came over and I was waiting for Y/N!”

“What happened to my sister!” Changbin growled.

“She kissed me,” Jisung said, flinching a little when Changbin tried to charge at him, intercepted by Seungmin and Jeongin who held him back by his with as much force as they could manage together. Jisung turned to look at me, gaze entreating as he reached out a hand. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought it was you.”

I shook my head, refusing to even look at Han Jisung because my heart was hurting in my chest and the night just continued to grow more and more confusing. “I’ll take care of Y/N,” Hyunjin finally said, sending Jisung a nasty glare before guiding me further and further away from the source of my pain.

But don’t ever let anyone tell you that Seo Changbin didn’t have a soft spot for Han Jisung because, at the drop of a hat, the older boy would immediately be at my husband’s side. And I thoroughly took advantage of this when I asked Jisung to invite Changbin over to our house for dinner one night, the two of them arriving together with Changbin clutching tightly to his sleeping bag. “I guess you’re spending the night,” I remarked.

“Why wouldn’t I? We work at the same place,” came Changbin’s usual response, tossing his bag onto the couch while he followed Jisung into our bedroom, complaining about something to do with the air conditioning. “Your apartment is so much nicer than mine!”

I finished cooking in relative peace, making sure to keep Changbin’s wine glass constantly full because a tipsy Changbin was much easier to deal with than the serious version who would likely explode when he heard my story. “So nice of you Y/N,” Changbin said as he slurped his spaghetti. He and Jisung were always messy when it came to pasta so I tried to ignore their nasty habits.

“Changbin,” I said, studying the older carefully. “I heard Kara was visiting.”

Changbin shrugged, shoving more food into his impossibly small mouth. “She’s been staying at my place.”

“Really?” I asked. “Why haven’t we had a chance to meet her again.”

Changbin glanced up at me. “You don’t even like, Kara, so why would I bother?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “She’s your sister, of course, I would be interested.”

“She stays busy a lot,” Changbin said.

“With who?”

“With work,” Changbin said, taking another long drink of the expensive wine I bought just for this occasion.

“She could have come tonight,” I said carefully, but I had been apparently pushing too far because now Changbin was suspicious.

“What are you getting at, Y/N?”

I took a deep breath, sensing Jisung watching the two of us over a mouthful of noodles. “I saw Kara the other day at my mother’s dinner.”

Changbin paused, considering me with a scowl. “What?”

“She came to our dinner,” I repeated. “With Felix.”

And with the exception of Jisung’s chewing, the room had grown relatively silent. “Why am I just now hearing about this?”

Changbin turned an accusatory gaze at Jisung who just rapidly shook his head and drank more wine. “Probably because she didn’t want anyone to know,” I said. “I think your sister might be trying to start something with Felix again and we both know how badly that turned out last time.”

Changbin dropped his fork, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “So nice of everyone to keep me informed.”

I relaxed a little because Changbin wasn’t reacting as violently as I thought he might. “I wanted to be sure and I got the information I needed today.”

Changbin sighed. “What information?”

“Minho looked through Felix’s phone at their dance practice,” I said. “He saw some messages with Kara. Apparently, they’re going to dinner tomorrow night. Isn’t that nice?”

Changbin’s jaw clenched as he took in this news. “And I’m assuming you have something planned?”

“Maybe,” I said with an innocent shrug. “It could be that Minho, Hyunjin, and I happened to make a reservation at the same place.”

“You’re gonna spy on them?”

“Would you rather us not?”

Changbin scoffed, dark hair falling into his eyes. “Are you asking me to come?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Well of course I do,” Changbin grunted impatiently, reaching down for another forkful of spaghetti while I sat back in my chair with satisfaction.

“This is surprisingly classy of Felix,” Hyunjin remarked, rolling down the window of Minho’s SUV to perch a pair of binoculars on the end of his nose.

“Aren’t you taking this too far?” Minho asked his friend.

“These?” Hyunjin asked, adjusting the lenses. “How else am I supposed to see what’s going on?”

“This is my sister we’re talking about,” Changbin spoke up, tugging at the frayed sleeves of his borrowed jacket.

“And Y/N’s stepbrother,” Minho added.

“I don’t claim him by blood,” I said, reaching over to slap Changbin’s hands. “Stop messing with that, you’re gonna ruin it, and this is Jisung’s nicest coat!”

My husband in question had opted to stay at home since he was probably the smartest out of all of us when it came to potential confrontations. “You’re rich enough to buy him another,” Changbin grumbled.

“He doesn’t wear them,” I said. “I buy him all sorts of clothes, but they always sit in his closet.”

“Who’s he trying to impress at an Elementary school?” Hyunjin snorted.

“Can’t we just go inside already?” I asked, slowly massaging my throbbing temples.

“Yeah, but can you shimmy the lock on your door?” Minho requested. “I’m pretty sure it’s broken.”

I accommodated his request before the four of us walked into the restaurant with an air of nonchalance. Nothing but four friends since childhood deciding to eat out together for a gourmet meal. It reminded me of college when the four of us shared the same lecture, a one-time occurrence because Minho forgot a general education course, and we always ate together because it ended in the early evening.

Of course, there was always the matter of the other three using me to find the answers to our homework assignment because they didn’t feel like completing the calculations.

The hostess inside the restaurant greeted us, checking Hyunjin’s reservation before leading us to our table. “Do you see them?” Hyunjin asked, deciding not to be so discreet in the distracting way he moved his head around, surveying the restaurant landscape with a sharp eye.

“This is so stupid,” Changbin grimaced.

“Are you too cool to eat with us?” Minho joked, gasping when he noticed the free wine samples menu.

“I’ll look around,” I said. “Give me five minutes.”

“And then what?” Hyunjin asked even as I was already moving away, sticking to the outskirts of the finely decorated tables. According to Minho, Felix and Kara should have already been at the restaurant for half an hour, probably weighing the consequences of keeping their new affair a secret from the rest of us. But I had no intention of letting them sneak away with anything, determined to get to the bottom of whatever relationship Felix was attempting with Changbin’s little sister, the same person who had openly scorned and rejected Felix in the past. This really demonstrates just how powerful a crush can be when it involves someone as determined as Felix.

“Aha!” I murmured quietly, discovering the couple together near the private dining room at the back. Reaching for my cell phone, I sent Minho a quick text message, waiting for a moment or so before I could see the three boys carefully making their way to my hiding spot.

“Ridiculous,” Changbin muttered, but he let out a disappointed sigh when he saw his sister and Felix together. “I guess you were right.”

Changbin was squatting down in front of the display of plants, peeling back the branches to find a better view. “Damn, Changbin,” I said, reaching down to give his ass an appreciative slap. “Who are you trying to impress?”

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Changbin snapped at me. “It’s not my fault that Han’s flatter than his vocal pitch.”

“Burn,” Hyunjin remarked while I scoffed in response.

“Jisung is a great singer.”

“Yeah, the kids are so impressed,” Minho giggled, ignoring the glare I sent him over my shoulder.

“They can’t be dating,” Changbin said. “I would have known about this. Kara would have told me!”

“That definitely looks like a date to me,” Minho teased Changbin.

“Unless friends share five-star meals now,” Hyunjin commented, glancing at me. “Interested in eating out again tomorrow, Y/N?”

“Only if you pay,” I replied dryly, watching Felix and Kara with intent.

“I can’t stand this,” Changbin declared, attempting to blow our cover by rising to his full height.

I desperately tugged on his shirt. “They’ll see us!”

“I don’t care,” Changbin grunted, pulling away from me only to march down the staircase to where Felix and Kara were laughing together over a meal of what appeared to be filet mignon and cabernet.

“Should we watch or get involved?” I asked, grinning when Felix finally realized that Changbin had spotted them. The all-consuming look of existential dread passing across his features was well worth the price of admission, including an outrageous gratuity fee.

“Definitely watch,” Minho nodded, tossing an arm around my shoulders. “You did good, Y/N.”

“Unless Changbin causes a scene,” Hyunjin remarked.

“I hope he does because I can record it for Jisung later,” I said, letting out a satisfied grin when Changbin stopped at their table.

Minho was one step ahead of me, pressing the record button at the top of his phone. “Maybe we’ll become YouTube famous!”

“I can’t believe you told him,” Felix snapped at me later. The six of us were outside the restaurant, having decided to pull Changbin and Kara away from the reproachful eyes of the upper elite who wanted to dine in peace.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m looking out for you.”

“By outing me to Changbin?”

“Of course,” I nodded, watching as Kara received a stern lecture from her older brother. “You can’t honestly be considering a relationship with Kara?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Felix asked.

“You must have a selective memory,” I said. “Or did you forget what happened in high school?”

“That was a long time ago!”

“She also used you during college. Don’t tell me you think she came around campus just for your company?”

Hyunjin, from somewhere to my right, let out a low whistle. Minho stood next to him, taking in the drama unfolding around him with eager eyes. “I don’t care about any of that!” Felix protested. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Felix,” I said, lowering my tone. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Well you’re doing a really bad job with that,” Felix snapped.

“It’s not because I don’t want things to work out,” I said. “I just know who she is and what she’s capable of.”

“Is that so?”

“You were too, Felix! Everything she ever did to you was always in an effort to hurt you. That’s why I have to interfere, to make sure that she doesn’t do anything like that!”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t care. You aren’t my real sister, so stop trying to act like it!”

His words were crushing and I suddenly felt equivalent to the world’s smallest person as I watched Felix walk away into the haze of city lights.

Jisung was sunshine and he once told me that he would do everything in his power to make me happy, even getting down on one knee to propose at our college graduation ceremony, nervous hands sliding a beautiful ring onto my finger. Jisung always knew when I was feeling sad or angry, dropping everything that he had been working on to make me feel better. Like in instances such as this, when my step-brother publicly disowns me, walking away without looking back once to assess the damage he had made of my fragile heart. “I deserved it,” I told Jisung, closing my eyes against his chest as I enjoyed the soothing water of the bath he prepared for me.

“No, you didn’t,” Jisung countered, wrapping his arms tightly around my middle. “You thought you were helping him.”

“I guess I have no right to interfere,” I said. “Even if I’m worried that Kara will only hurt him again.”

“And she might,” Jisung agreed. “But I think Felix can handle it. Sometimes, you forget that he’s all grown up.”

“I ruined our relationship,” I said. “Felix won’t ever talk to me again and Kara is probably mad at Changbin.”

“Felix can’t avoid you,” Jisung said. “You have the same friends.”

“Ha,” I snorted. “You don’t know Felix very well. If he sets his mind to something, then there’s nothing that can stop him.”

“Actually, I do know Felix, and that’s why I’m pretty sure he’ll call you any day now and ask to talk.”

I turned around in his arms, trying to see any hint of teasing in Jisung’s brown eyes. “Why do you think that?”

“Because Felix respects you, even if you make him mad,” Jisung said, surprising me with a gentle kiss. “He told me all the time when we were younger that he thinks you’re one of the coolest people he’s ever met.”

“Felix said that?”

“Yeah,” Jisung nodded. “And I completely agree.”

“You’re obligated to say that,” I said. “Marriage and shit.”

“But I’ve always meant it, Y/N,” Jisung insisted. “You have a really good heart and you always have our best intentions in mind, even if that means you feel the need to spy on your step-brother.”

“Now it sounds creepy,” I complained.

“I can’t imagine you dragging around Changbin, Minho, and Hyunjin, hiding behind tables in the middle of an expensive restaurant.”

“That’s funny because I can’t imagine you in an expensive restaurant at all.”

“Really?” Jisung grinned, digging his fingers into my sides. “Try saying that again.”

I squealed in his arms, pleading for mercy. “I thought you wanted to relax?”

“This was all for you,” Jisung said, pulling me onto his lap. “I think we should go to bed early.”

“I am tired,” I smirked.

His cock was hard against my lower back. “What if I let you ride my face?”

“Then you’ll be the best husband in the world.”

The following Saturday, Jisung’s prediction came true when Felix’s name flashed across my phone screen while I enjoyed lunch with Seungmin and Jeongin. “It’s Felix,” I hissed at them before taking the call. “Hello?”

“Y/N,” Felix’s deep voice greeted me on the other end. “I hope you’re not busy.”

“I’m just having lunch,” I said, waving my hand at Seungmin who was attempting to mouth imperceptible words at me from across the table.

“I want to apologize for the other night with Kara,” Felix said. “At dad’s house and at the restaurant.”

“I’m sorry too, Felix,” I said. “I shouldn’t have told Changbin about his sister.”

“No,” Felix sighed. “But Changbin deserves to know the truth. He called me the other day and told me that Kara had left the next morning. She didn’t even bother telling him where she was going.”

I felt my heartbreak for my step-brother. “I didn’t think she would do that.”

“You don’t have to be nice, Y/N,” Felix said. “Everything you said about Kara was true and I should’ve listened.”

“I never did any of that to teach you a lesson, Felix.”

“Yeah,” Felix murmured into the phone. “It doesn't matter anymore. Kara’s gone and I’ll have to move on.”

“But I still feel really bad,” I said. “Maybe we could all hang out tonight? Like we did before we had adult things to worry about.”

Felix chuckled. “I think that sounds nice.”

“Keep your hands away from the food,” I scolded Jisung, giving his ass a firm slap before directing him out of the kitchen. “This is for the party tonight!”

“But it smells good,” Jisung complained.

“You can have as much as you want later,” I said, frowning at Changbin from across the room. “Are you trying to break my mother’s vase?”

The older boy scowled at me. “I can’t reach, alright? You were the one who asked me to decorate.”

“Please help him,” I said, sending Jisung rushing to hang up the streamers before Changbin could possibly sabotage our apartment. The others were due to arrive at any moment and I was already unprepared, food still cooking and my husband and his friend proving to be completely inept at decorating. I wanted everything to be nice for Felix, but honestly? He shouldn’t expect much from this crew.

Graciously, the arrival of Hyunjin brought about an extra few inches of height, allowing the streamers to hang gracefully from the mantlepiece. “What would you do without me, Y/N?” he inquired innocently, handing me the cake he had brought from our cafe.

“I’d need to buy a step ladder,” I teased him, rushing back into the safety of the kitchen to avoid his retaliation. In the meantime, Jisung happily answered the door for our other guests, ushering them inside to crowd our living room. Sadly, our apartment was never meant to be large enough to accommodate this many guests, but it was strangely cozy with all of us together.

“It’s been a while,” Chan remarked to Changbin. “Why don’t we do this sort of thing anymore?”

“Beats me,” Changbin replied. “But Y/N has a nice selection of wine.”

“I’m glad that’s the reason you come around,” I remarked, bringing out the final tray of food to fill out the rest of the table. “Whenever Felix gets here we can eat.”

“He shouldn’t be so late,” Minho said, trying his best to sneak a cube of cheese from the corner.

“Patience my friend,” I said. “It will make everything taste so much better.”

“Not with your cooking,” Minho teased, protesting when I threw my oven mitt at him over the counter separating the kitchen from the dining room.

“You’ll never change,” I remarked.

“Why would you want me to?” Minho asked, ignoring my glare when he grabbed a handful of popcorn.

“Do you want to be suspended from my house?”

“Jisung would never allow it,” he said, whining at my husband. “Right, Sungie?”

Jisung looked back and forth between the two of us. “You two are sometimes worse than my kids at school.”

Before I could offer a compelling comeback, the ringing of our doorbell paused our conversation. The sound indicated Felix’s arrival and Seungmin was the first to greet him, holding him close as they entered the dining room. “Nice of you to join us,” I said, handing my step-brother a plate. “This is all for you.”

“I’m honored,” Felix said, accent thick as he abruptly pulled me into a vice-like grip that nearly knocked me off my feet.

“Too much,” I choked out.

“Don’t kill my wife,” Jisung joked, intervening before Felix could possibly squeeze any more oxygen from my lungs.

The remainder of the evening passed by with a nostalgic tone, the nine of us gathered together in the living room to watch anime on TV while Hyunjin complained about our newest hiree again. “Hey,” he said, snapping his fingers in my direction. “He already had two strikes. One more mess-up and he’s gone.”

“He’s just a kid, Hyunjin,” I said. “Remember when you used to work at Starbucks? I’m surprised you even managed to stay on for an entire year!”

Hyunjin protested loudly over the laughter of 8 other people who clearly remembered sitting in Starbucks on Campus just to watch Hyunjin mess-up orders while whining at the customers to slow down when he was in charge of the register. “He gave me a macchiato when I asked for an Americano,” Minho said.

“One time, Hyunjin closed the store an hour early because he forgot about our project,” Seungmin interjected much to Hyunjin’s chagrin who was now very much embarrassed.

Jisung pulled me closer to him on the chair next to the fireplace, watching our friends talk with obvious affection. “I think Felix is happy.”

I nodded my agreement, observing him from afar. “We did a good job.”

“You did a good job,” Jisung corrected, leaning in closer to whisper directly into my ear. “I love you, Y/N.”

“Love you more,” I said, gripping tightly to Jisung’s hand with no intention of ever letting go because our hold on another had never lessened from the very first day we met as kids, unaware that we would be sharing the rest of our forever together.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #han jisung #han jisung fanfic #han jisung smut #stray kids han #han fanfic #han smut

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alphasmoonlit-selfships · 4 years ago

Note

🍃 🐚 ⭐️

Hello mystery anon! Thank you so much for the ask! I forgot as I was writing that that were asks meant to be answered by me for my F/o, but considering my recent f/o takeover by my dearest Atsushi, he answered a few of the asks too! UwU;

"It is a shared blog between us, Darling," Atsushi commented lightly, resting his chin a top the petite brunette, "I'm sure they won't mind at all!" 🥰

"Well let's just jump right into it, shall we?"

🍃: Do you live together? If not, would you like to? How would you or how do you decorate?

Atsushi: We do live together actually! You can know more about that here in this ask!

Though the second question is new to answer; it was a slow and gradual process to decorate our place after it was entirely cleaned and ready to inhabit. We started with basic things we could afford, the Agency definitely helping us to get a few other things to fill in the space and make it feel more homey. Which we were grateful towards nonetheless!

Even so, I think the decorator between us is Dany, she usually suggests colors and what might fit well with the setting of a certain room in our condo. As well as how the layout should be. Of course, I pitch in my own suggestions that she usually considers and takes full validation of 😄 it definitely helps her figure things out as she often hits a dead end and is left a bit irked when she runs out of ideas 👀

We often buy things at random that might make the condo more homey, be it buying some items for the living room or dining, some plants to make the place more lively, either inside or on the balcony space, or paintings and frames. Which might I add, we have hung some pieces we worked on together!

It was some quality time building when we painted and made a messy, yet nice piece done! I may not be much of an artist, but Dany does know how to boost someone’s confidence when it comes to the subject U///w///U she is very sweet, comforting and patient.

But yeah! We are a bit of a mix of traditional, minimalist, and modern through the home!

🐚: Which one of you brings the most physical or emotional energy to the relationship? Are there ever times where it’s overwhelming to the other, or are you pretty evenly matched?

Atsushi: I think Dany and I have shared a decent amount of offering each other that physical and emotional and mental energy to our relationship. It varies a lot with what we experience individually, but overall it is evenly match. We have a deep understanding of one another and share a few similarities when it comes to how we think and want to act on our emotions and affections.

I think Dany gives more of the physical energy as she isn’t one to always put things into words as it sounds in her mind. Her affection is warm, sweet, comforting, it’s soothing and brings out any tension I feel personally after a bad day. She often sings and hums to offer a bit of vocal response, or asks questions for me that give me the door to open if I want to talk about something. She doesn't press instantly and allows space for me to figure out what I would like to say.

I do worry that sometimes I may be a bit overwhelming for her; she is rather emphatic and has the tendency to take other’s emotions that often do drain her later on. It..often leads her to be apathetic when she feels her own bad days.

Which leads to the opposite of me, she is more withdrawn from speaking about her struggles and worries. Always giving a lot of herself to me or others that she forgets about herself. That’s where I have slowly began to draw her out of that mindset, I can understand where she comes from in that regard and offer what she usually craves the most; To be listened without being interrupted or bringing up an assumption she hasn’t stated. She use to apologize,,, frequently for how she just kept rambling about some feelings and teared up out of emotion. She still does occasionally, but not as often as before.

We have been through a lot, uncovering old wounds and healing together. Giving each other that reassurance and validation we both crave more than anything. I think that’s a great positive to our relationship, is how well we share a wavelength in our emotions and how we naturally crave physical bliss from each other. It’s a steady and comforting recovery to just cuddle in bed together after a draining day, for either or both of us.

On a positive note, we are very affectionate and sweet together, so a lot of other people tend to say. Sometimes saying how we are wholesome, or adorable together. It is nice and validating to hear. I tend to be more loving in public when given the chance, Dany isn't much into PDA as she doesn't like so many eyes on her. But has gradually learned to not care too much on it. She has gotten more confident in that regard 🥰 especially with surprise kisses U///w///U

I think the first time she ever kisses me a bit...passionately in public was when someone was apparently flirting with me? I didn't have a clue about it if I have to be honest 😅 and I do think her wolf ability may have given her that forward reaction to kiss me. Surprised I was, but not at all opposed to it~ it was so cute to see slowly realize what she did later and how she practically combusted into embarrassment for her forward action. She definitely needed some reassurance and words of encouragement from me 🥰🥰🥰

Needless to say, she is adorable and I love my darling, tiny lover UwU <3

⭐️: Does your FO have any habits that you only noticed after spending a significant amount of time with them? Do they notice any of yours?

Habits eh? Hmm, Atsushi has some peculiar ones that are caused by his tiger ability... I mean so do I, but I'm normally like that since I was a child. 😅 He is like a cat sometimes and it is honestly endearing to witness and very comforting 🥰 he purrs when we cuddle and has these big eyes sometimes when I give him praise and kisses UwU. Sometimes dilated during more... affectionate times~

He also still bares some habits that stem from his time at the orphanage that I never noticed until we started living together. Such as his early sleep and morning wake up schedule. I’m not much of a morning person in the slightest 😅 I can be very irked and tense and need at least an hour to mentally wake myself up as I move about the place. I especially need coffee and some sort of protein with my food to wake me up.

I’m not very lively and may look irritated to a fault 😔 the amount of times I worried mi Tigre at the start because he thought he did something wrong ;;;w;;; of course with time he understood and got use to it and definitely gave me the space to compose myself. He definitely makes it easier to wake up with a few affectionate kisses and preparing breakfast ;;;w;;; I, of course, in the rare times do the same for him, I just have to be up prior to his now 6am wake up 😮‍💨

Hmm.. he also has his bad days, usually when a memory of his past flickers in his mind he kind of shuts down and it leads to nightmares occasionally. They were more frequent earlier on when we moved in together in the dorms and the first few weeks in our new home and have gradually slowed down. But sometimes I would wake in the middle of the night to him gone, immediately picking him out cowering away in a closet. Huddled in a ball and attempting to stifle his tears when I find him..

I was concerned, but not overly as before when he first did this prior to our relationship. Instead I joined him and offered him my comfort to ground him back from his terror and memory. Usually wordless, gentle comfort and letting him cry out all the emotions that twist and pained his heart. Once he calmed a bit, I offered any words of validation and usually pitch the question if he would like to talk about it. Sometimes yes, sometimes no, either or I don’t let up holding him and keeping him steady to present time.

It’s definitely helped a lot, mi pobre tigre… he feels bad sometimes for the disrupt sleep or mental toll it brings me. But I always remind him, gently but stern, that in those moments he is the one that matters and I am not about to abandon him in his time of need.

Maybe it’s because I understand him deeply in that sense, while our lives may not have been the same, we understand the toll our traumatic past takes on us, individually.

Atsushi has definitely been there for me a lot of the time, I have a lot of self doubt and need plenty of reassurance. I’m..overly sensitive too so I don’t like arguing or any rise in anger, it’s hard for me to…really stand up for myself in that regard; hee..to literally not cry because I am trying to make a point…

Ah sorry, about the small downed turn this took; I don’t normally talk about these things. Am trying to get better by talking more about it, especially with mi Tigre who honestly listens when so many … often don’t.

Nonetheless, some more positive, funny/cute habits from the last; Atsushi tends to ramble on about new things he learns and enjoys telling me more about it. I remember he spoke for a whole hour about chameleons, I drew him some cute doodles as he told me more about them. He keeps the image somewhere in his phone. He also rubs his neck or cups his chin a lot when confused, nervous or in deep thought.

He on the other hand has noticed how often I tend to sit on my legs, that I don’t have a single perfect posture no matter where I sit. Could be the most comforting chair or very stiff, hard ones and I still keep my legs up with me. I just can't for the life of me sit still at all, it'd last like less than 5 minutes at most 😅 but he finds it adorable and cute how often I can just curl myself into what looks like an awkward position to others but for me is rather comfy and just how I prefer to sit.

His lap is the most comforting place to sit tho 👀👀

Atsushi: You also have the bad habit of biting your lips, Darling 👀

👀...Noooo... okay yes I do, a lot, like a lot more as of recent,,, And I crack my fingers a lot too...and tap my feet, more so in public out of nervous jitters I think...

Well, that's enough of that~ we greatly appreciate the emoji asks and honestly love doing these kinds of asks 🥺 it gives me so much more of a chance to explore the dynamic and relationship between mi Tigre and I ❤️😍🥰 Leaves me warm and fussy and soft. A melting puddle of silly and foolish love U///w///U...

Please by all mean's don't be shy to send asks or talk with me! I do my best to respond when I can and want to give all my love and support to every self shipper! Till the next asks! Take care!

#bungou stray dogs #atsushi nakajima #atsudany #danielle mika mason #self shipping #self ship community #f/o takeover asks #self ship #tag: we are of the moon and stars my dear #f/o asks

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poisxnyouth · 5 years ago

Text

bad influence dave part 5 (d.d)

A/N: I KNOW 3.8K ISN’T SHORT BUT I FEEL LIKE I’VE CONDITIONED MYSELF TO THINK IT IS. ANYWAY. ENJOY. LMK WHAT YOU THINK. TALK TO ME WHILE YOU READ. I LOVE YOU. LET’S CHAT. -HAILEY

Word Count: 3.85K

“David,” you whine his name, bucking up into his touch and grabbing at his hair, “We have thirty minutes before we have to go.”

“Hush,” he says gruffly, fingers twisting inside of you and grunting slightly, “You’re going to cum before we leave this house.”

Neither of you are even dressed, still in pajamas, and yet: you woke up late, kissed each other good morning, and you barely had a second to think before he was sliding his hand down the front of your sweatpants.

This behavior of his seems to be routine on weekends, now. You stay over at his place Friday to Sunday; every Sunday, he attempts to make you cum before having to leave for church. It’s an increasingly frustrating task for him — he knows he can, and he knows he knows how to do so, but you’re not complying with him. It’s not your fault, either:

Sexual repression is fucking difficult to fix, apparently, and David wants to kill himself. He cannot count on both of his hands the amount of times he’s been between your legs and had to tell you, “Stop putting pressure on yourself to be able to cum. You do that, and you’ll never cum. Knock it off and let me do this. I know how to. Shut up.” It seems as though his words are finally beginning to click this time, and he can tell by the way you’re tugging so tightly at the roots of his hair as he works his mouth and fingers against you.

After pushing his sexual ego to the side, David got the balls to buy you a bullet vibrator – an amazing decision he couldn't regret even if he wanted to. Now, he pulls away from you before you whine again, tugging him closer.

He continues to pull away, harshly pushing your hands off, “Stop it. Let me do this.”

David grabs the vibrator and flips it on, settling back between your legs and starting his work again: vibe on your clit, fingers inside, and mouth on you. As far as he’s concerned, for any other woman, this is the Holy Trinity of what it takes to orgasm, and he feels you getting so close beneath him that his heart begins racing in excitement. He watches your face twist up and you pull tighter at his hair, bucking up against him.

This is the closest he’s gotten to making you cum so far, and he wishes he was surprised when you exhale deeply and groan, gently pushing his touches away. He knew it was too good to be true.

You cover your face with your hands, wanting to cry of frustration and embarrassment as David switches off the vibe. He haphazardly (and grossly) wipes his fingers on his t-shirt, wiping at his mouth before lying back down next to you. He sighs, too, pulling you into his arms and moving to grab your chin, “Look at me, babygirl.”

“It’s okay,” David promises and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, even though he’s just as frustrated as you are, “That was the closest we’ve been. Progress, honey. Baby steps.”

“I’m so mad at myself,” you say dejectedly, rolling over to get out of bed and begin getting ready, “I feel fucking broken.”

“Noooo,” he drags out, shaking his head and tugging off his t-shirt, “Don't feel that way, my love. Patience. It’ll come! I promise. We can always try again later.”

David’s been trying so hard to remain optimistic, and he still is, but it's mentally draining, and he's spreading himself thin. He gets out of bed and lazily pulls out his Sunday best clothes: wife beater, t-shirt, dress shirt, slacks, dress shoes. At first, he had hated wearing church clothes again – as the weeks pass, though, and however unfaithful he remains, it’s his routine now.

He’s moving more drugs than he ever has now that he has the guise of salvation; so, to him, two hours every Sunday morning and Wednesday night in stuffy clothes is worth the extra ten grand a week. David’s already made fifty racks since being with you – a little over a month – and he has more money than he even knows what to do with. He never thought the Catholic church was his answer to being able to deal more.

“Babygirl, have you seen my raz – Nevermind,” David has exactly ten minutes to shave his face and pull his clothes on; he’s stood in front of his mirror in his tank top, crowded next to you as you both attempt to hurriedly get ready at the same time. From his cheeks down, he’s covered in shaving cream, quickly running the blades across his skin. He leaves the faucet on as you lean over the counter next to him, in your bra and underwear, attempting to do your makeup as quickly as you can.

“What time is it, honey?”

“Seven-oh-five,” you reply, checking your phone in the middle of your mascara, “Ten minutes.”

It’s a forty-five-minute trip into the city, and David hates waking up so early on one of his two days off – but God, is the money worth it. Church is practically a job he gets paid two and a half G’s per hour for. Call him a priest.

You brush your teeth simultaneously, his arm draped around your waist as you rest your head against his shoulder. You spit, rinse, and spit again at the same time before you’re both racing to tug on your clothes; David tucks his dress shirt into his slacks and slips his belt through the loops, quickly buckling it and flipping his collar up, reaching for his tie. He wraps it around his neck, not bothering tying it yet as you ask him to zip up the back of your dress.

He does, slipping his shoes on and tying them as you gather your belongings. God, he hates church.

David stashes the vibrator in his pocket when you’re not looking, grouping it in with his wallet, keys, lighter, and cigarettes. Somehow, you manage to make it out of the house and into his car on time – and you’re both exhausted.

He makes a mental note to himself to never do an eight ball of cocaine by himself the night before church again – his throat’s raw, and every time he speaks, it feels like he’s getting facefucked by a hundred and eighty grit sandpaper.

You did not participate in his festivities, but you had been all over him, drunk, in the bathroom of his friend's house as he cut himself a few lines on the granite countertops with his debit card. You watched him as he pulled out his wallet for the second time, precisely rolling up a hundred-dollar bill and bending over the counter, shamelessly snorting a line at a time. Half-way through, he stopped, tipping his head back and rubbing at his nose, sniffling and groaning quietly.

Someone had attempted to come through the door without knocking, and David quickly shut it on them, locking the door, “Go the fuck awaaaay, dude.”

Handle of his pistol peeking out of the back of his shorts, he bent over again, finishing the rest of his lines and running his fingers through the numbies. David rubbed the excess dust into his gums, wiping the dampness on his fingertips on his shirt aimlessly.

You drunkenly hung off of him, arms wrapped around his shoulders and kissing at his neck as he tipped his head backwards again, sniffling and wiping at his nose. His fingers reached for the baggy, hundred-dollar bill, and his debit card, slipping the items back into his wallet before tugging you closer and kissing you sloppily.

Of course, David doesn’t regret it – he regrets very little, after all – but he does feel like a hot, steaming pile of garbage, and he knows you must be hungover. He wants nothing more than a cigarette and a blunt, but God forbid-

“Hey, are we dealing today?” You snap him out of his own head as he drives, sunglasses over his too-sensitive eyes – a result of the liquor he also put in his body the night before.

“Um, yeah,” he nods, one hand on the wheel at six o’clock and the other laced with yours. “I’m moving two ounces of coke upstate today. You’re just tagging along. Fuck, everything in my body hurts. I need coffee or something. Do we have time?”

“I think so?” you reply, digging through his center console for an aspirin, a Tylenol, a Motrin, anything to ease the headache that the sunlight’s presence is making a million times worse. “The traffic is worse than usual, so maybe we shouldn't.”

David’s mouth and fingers are itching for a cigarette, but he knows the stench is immediately recognizable – he untangles your fingers as he gets stopped at a light, leaning over you into the passenger side and opening his dash. He rifles through it quickly, placing the spare Glock in your lap as he feels you rub at his back affectionately. He finds a pack of mint toothpicks – he knew he had some somewhere – an aged relic of when he attempted to quit smoking two years prior, opens the package, and places one in his mouth.

David's oral fixation momentarily relieved, he hits the gas and tells you to put the gun back. He's yet to give you a full tutorial, supplying you with sporadic explanations here and there; but you do, very carefully and very slowly, before he interrupts you.

“Jesus, baby, it's not a bomb. You know the safety is on,” he takes it from your hands, tossing it into the dash and telling you to shut it.

David chews on the toothpick until the flavor is gone, rolling it between his lips as he drives, fingers laced with yours again. You speak, entirely too hungover to be going anywhere, but wanting to appreciate him, “Thanks for never judging me with the whole orgasm thing, babe. You’re too patient.”

He tuts, squeezing your hand and hoarsely replying, “A judgmental man is a weak man, sweetheart. Gotta do what you gotta do. I’ve got you, regardless.”

You don't know what to say to that, going silent at his words and leaning over to put your head in his bicep, shutting your eyes. “Ugh, God. Can we call in sick?”

“Oh my God, can we?” he replies, mentally crossing his fingers, “Please say yes. I didn't know we could do that.”

“Oh, fuck it,” you move from his arm and reach for your phone, quickly texting your family and fibbing you and David don’t feel too good. It’s not a complete lie.

David quickly tosses out the toothpick and reaches for his cigarettes, lighting one and rolling his window down. He gets stopped at a light again after making a U-turn, subsequently rolling his sleeves up, loosening his Windsor knot, and undoing the top few buttons of his shirt, cigarette loosely between his lips.

He looks so hot, and you tell him so. He scoffs and doesn't acknowledge your compliment, smile playing at his lips as he takes a drag and untangles your fingers, free hand sliding up the inside of your thigh.

“We need to talk, sweet girl,” David says vaguely, side of his knuckles rubbing gently against your underwear, “Don’t be a stupid whore and make yourself a target later today. Do as I say and nothing else. I’ll leave it at that.”

“I always do as you say,” you reply, spreading your legs slightly, “Why wouldn't I?”

“Because,” he shrugs, index finger hooking at the hem of your underwear and tugging, “Some part of you has a death wish, babygirl. You don’t like to listen to me. Get these off.”

He tosses his cig out of the window and pulls the vibrator out of his pocket, rolling the window up and spreading your legs further apart as he continues driving. David ignores you when you ask the reasoning behind him bringing the vibe as you push the clothing down your legs, flipping the switch and placing it on you.

“David!” you exclaim, going red in the cheeks, “We’re still in public!”

“My windows are tinted,” he replies coolly, throat still scratchy, “Just let me.”

He presses it harder against your clit, before ordering you, “Hold it there for me, sweetheart.”

You listen to him and do as he says, as he previously requested, just to slip his middle finger and ring finger inside of you. There's only so much he can do as he drives; his limited mobility is a struggle, but he glances between the road and between your legs as he moves his fingers with a certain finesse you can't quite do by yourself.

“Come on, sugar,” David presses, feeling the way your fingernails are sharply digging into his biceps as you get closer, “You can do it. Do it for Daddy, baby.”

He tries his hardest for a few minutes before you make a louder noise, crying out and finally releasing, and he can't believe it – he didn't think it would actually work. He always waits until you give up on yourself, sighing heavily and nearly crying of frustration.

You push his hands away as you catch your breath, eyes looking up at the ceiling of his car as he chuckles slightly, both hands on the wheel and another toothpick between his lips, wagging slightly as he speaks, “How was that, honey?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you curse, groaning quietly, “They’re all like that?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugs, rolling the stick between his lips, “Proud of you. Good job, babygirl.”

David has a genuine look of indifference on his face as he gets a gun pulled on him after asking for a higher sale price of the two ounces coke, cigarette between his lips. His eyes roll as he exhales the smoke carelessly down the barrel of the gun, speaking, “I carry. My girl carries. Don’t try it. You’re outnumbered. You’re not a big boy yet, man. It’s okay. Just give me the extra cash.”

“I won't shoot you if you don’t give me a reason to,” he promises, taking a drag as he pulls out his Glock, “Point that at her, though, and I will. Give it.”

“Fuck,” the man curses – David’s nonchalance is one of his best attributes – eyes rolling and taking the gun off of him, “Fine. I hate you. You’re a little shit.”

David gets in the car with five grand more than he thought he would come back with, casually sucking his teeth and tossing the gun in the backseat. He places a toothpick between his lips, tutting, “That guy’s an asshole. Fifteen bands, though. You want something nice?”

“Don't spend your money on me,” you say, “Not worth it.”

“Liar,” he chuckles, beginning to drive, “Sweetheart, I’ve made seventy-five thousand dollars in the past month and a half. I have almost four hundred thousand dollars to my name in cash. I have more money than I know what to do with. Let me buy you shit.”

“I’m not going to ask you for anything,” you promise, “Not with you for the money. I don't give a shit. I like when you're successful.”

“Riiiiiight,” he says doubtfully, “Okay, so when you come home to expensive packages you 'didn't want,’” he air-quotes mockingly, laughing slightly, “I want a picture of you and whatever I buy you and you saying, ‘No, thank you, Daddy. I don't want this Versace dress, I promise.’”

“I hate you so much,” you shove playfully, “Of course I’ll accept...but is that shit worth getting a gun pulled on for?”

“Ha,” David actually says, glancing between you and the road, “Anything for my girl.”

“God, baby. What are you doing?” David gripes in a whisper, eyeing the bong in your hands, “Putting that shit through college? Light the bowl and get on with it.”

You’ve had David in your life for three months now, dating him for one, and somehow, there are still things you haven't been taught how to do. Unfortunately, this includes how to use a bong, and now you’re under pressure, sitting in his lap. You’re both squoze in a shitty plastic chair, everyone arranged in a circle in one of David’s jerkoff friend’s backyards.

David is the only man in his friend group who has a girl.

David wipes at the corner of his mouth quickly before his hands are on your waist, mouth by your ear, “I’m telling you how to do this once, and only once.”

“Thumb over the carb. The back hole, baby,” he clarifies, “Mouth in the top hole. Seal. Light. Now, pull.”

You do as he says, his voice quiet as his friends make small talk with each other, eyeing the way he aids you, “Pullpullpullpull. Take off your thumb. Inhale all of it.”

You do, inhaling as much as you can, cough-free, quickly exhaling before he’s clearing the chamber for you, wiping the mouthpiece with the sleeve of his t-shirt before passing the glass to his buddy next to him. No one is saying it, but all they can think of when they watch you two is a charity case. They would never dare speak it – David would probably kill them – but he was never the type for good girls.

He’s sweet, for the most part, sure – but he’s also fucked every other girl sitting in that entire circle and none of them come close to being the same species as you. David’s wearing his cross again, something he stopped doing years ago, and you’re wearing one too. They also know he’s moving more coke and MDMA than he has in his entire life – it’s no coincidence.

He’s not manipulative, never has been, so it’s not that. He’s truly interested, and they can’t figure it out; you’re an odd match for him, and David seems especially enamored as you light his cigarette for him, eyes on his. He exhales the first drag quickly before kissing you, wholly on display for everyone who cares to see as he shamelessly tugs you closer after taking another drag. He shotguns the cigarette smoke with you, and judging by the way you’ve got your arms wrapped around his neck and the hickeys on his skin are peeking out from under his wife beater tank top – you’re enamored with him as much as he is with you.

They’ve all seen this man rail lines of ketamine and cocaine right after one another off of a random broad’s ass and continue his night doing shots, girls at his fingertips wherever he went; so, to see him so voluntarily committed to one woman – a woman who’s good for him and a woman who’s not like him at all – is staggering. They understand David well enough to know he doesn't force himself into anything; if he’s in a situation, it’s because he puts himself there, and if he wanted out, he would leave.

The most substantial evidence of this thought process of his is every girl’s experience with him in the bedroom behind closed doors. Not bad, performance wise, of course – but he’s selfish. One particular anecdote cites him pulling out, tearing off the condom, getting dressed, and asking said girl to leave. ‘Fuck, this sucks. You can go home now, sugar. Thanks, anyway, though,’ he had supposedly said, bathroom door shutting and shower turning on before she was even able to get her bra back on. He ended up cumming down his shower drain to the thought of Blake Lively’s tits, free hand holding himself up against the wall of white porcelain tiles as his free palm and fingers worked over himself, not feeling one inkling of guilt for that poor girl – who’s now bitterly sitting across from you and David in the circle, watching you cluelessly kiss the taste of Coors Light off of his lips.

You and David are hardly paying attention to anything besides each other, and it’s been this way every time he's visited, and you’ve tagged along. Cigarette between his fingers, he whispers comments to you to make you giggle, resembling rebellious teenagers at a shitty house party as the fingers of his spare hand creep up the hem of your (David’s) t-shirt.

It comes as a shock for everyone, including you, when David pushes your hair out of your face and murmurs a quiet admission without thinking twice about the meaning of it, “I love you, my sweet girl.”

Even while stoned, you feel yourself go breathless in his hold as he continues to nonchalantly play with the ends of your hair and kisses your forehead, ensuring, “Say it back whenever you want to. No pressure, babygirl. I’m just saying.”

A quiet but not unnoticed interaction, it’s painfully obvious to everyone how beguiled he is with you – a scarce but not entirely unfamiliar feeling for him to experience. He’s a grown man; he’s been in love before. David’s best quality is his self-awareness; he knows it’s too early, and he knows himself well enough to understand that he will be wholeheartedly, emotionally fucked if something, however much unanticipated, goes wrong with your relationship.

It’s a chance he’s willing to take, and he’s not ashamed of it – he’s too comfortable with himself to be ashamed of any of his desires. That being said, it doesn't take the surprise out of him when you reciprocate his words following a moment of silence, leaning in to kiss him.

David’s previous projects look on amid their conversations, covetous eyes rolling while he smiles into your kisses and lets you affectionately run your fingers through his scruff. Adorning one of his t-shirts, his signature scent of weed and sweet cigarettes is slowly becoming engraved into your skin and your hair, scarlet and plum hickeys almost always smattered against your collarbone and shoulders as evidence of his residency in your personal life.

At the recognition and confirmation of your mutual attraction, David’s ready to go home, heart eyes taking over his desire for social company as he flicks his cigarette and stands with you, murmuring a quiet, “You wanna get the fuck outta here?” into your ear.

You nod, and David quickly bids everyone goodnight, leading you by the small of your back to the car, sighing, “Fuck, I’m glad to be outta there. They were on some other shit tonight.”

“They seemed pissed at you,” you comment as he turns the key in the ignition, lacing your fingers together and resting your head on his shoulder, breathing him in, “Why?”

“I don't give a shit,” he shrugs, absentmindedly driving, “I don't think about them at all anymore.”

“I love you,” you say randomly a few minutes later, squeezing his hand, “For real. I’m so grateful for you.”

“I love you, too, my sweet girl,” David promises, eyes switching between you and the road, “You make me so much nicer.”

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milasartblog · 4 years ago

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Bond (part 2)

Nazeel and Tereza looked at Lucifer for a moment while Michael was beside Lucifer.

Tereza: Umm, should me and Michael give you a moment?

Lucifer: No no, it's okay if you two are present here too.

Nazeel got puzzled for a second, then he realised about what Lucifer wanted to talk. Some time have passed since Algaron's confrontation. It was enough to collect all the questions nephilim wanted to ask to King of Hell. Nazeel looked down at his cup of hot chocolate.

Nazeel: So you want to talk about what happened there?

Lucifer: You can say that so, yeah. And also about the void realm, where Algaron is now, about why i did such decision. And answer all your questions.

He looked down too which made Tereza be concerned about them. She looked at Michael, asking if they should probably give Nazeel and Lucifer a moment. But archangel showed a sign that things were under control for now.

Nazeel: What was that form? Mom never told me about it.

Lucifer: It was...my divine demon form.

Nazeel: Divine demon form?

Lucifer: Yes. You see, each divinity has its normal form and divine one, which we use so rarely. In such form our powers are stronger, our appearance changes too, even our speed increases. But such forms can only be access by the highest angels or the highest demons. Like me and Michael.

Nazeel: But..why did this demon call your form as “true” one? Why did he call you Samael?

For couple of seconds Lucifer hesitated to say it, but seeing Michael’s approval, he took a deep breath, while Tereza took another sip with nervosity.

Lucifer: Before I fell to Hell, I was once an archangel. Your mother probably told you about it. However, as an archangel I was mostly known under another name - Samael Morningstar. This is the name that my Father gave to me, but I liked the name Lucifer more. Only my brothers could call me Lucifer or Samael. And just like other archangels, I had my own divine form. It was not much different from my brothers, and yet, unlike my current form, I was still....”myself”. When I got to Hell, my Father made sure that my divine form will never be like my brothers’ ones. And that’s how my divine demon form appeared. But because of it, I left the name Samael on this form, as a reminder of who I was and whom I became.

Tereza: Wait, I thought it was because you didn’t want to hear such name anymore.

Lucifer: That’s another reason. But can you really forget what happened eons and millions of years ago?

Nazeel: So you say that this demon bluffed just to scare me?

Lucifer: Partially. He was right in one thing: about my name. As an archangel I was the strongest one. Now with such demon form...I’m stronger than them.

Nazeel looked down sadly, making Tereza and Michael be concern even more. They tried not to interfere, but it was hard.

Nazeel: Does it mean...that I also have my own divine terrifying form?

Lucifer: What? No, that's not like that. I mean, you do have your own divine form, but why do you say it's terrifying?

Nazeel: Just...you almost killed that demon in this form. You looked like not the Lucifer I knew....Does it mean that I will be the same?

Lucifer: No, Nazeel, it won't be like this.

Tereza: Are you sure? Most of us demons are aware of your form, and how it changes your personali-

Lucifer: That's not true.

Everyone got silent for a moment, looking at Lucifer, who sighed deeply.

Lucifer: I had to use my form, because...I wanted to protect you. I didn't care in what way I would do, bloody one or peaceful one. I didn't even care if that demon Algaron got killed by me. Deep inside, I wanted to protect dearest people to me...That's what I promised to your mother Thelaris.

Tereza: Really?

Lucifer: And I gave promise to your father Arael. To Anoli and Liya too.

Nazeel was speechless for a moment, trying to accept that information while taking another sip. Tereza was stunned too. She didn't know that Lucifer gave such promise.

Lucifer: I can't deny, I did acted like a terrifying demon, and because of it I scared you. And so my only option was to send this demon to the void realm.

Nazeel: ....What is the void realm?

Lucifer: An empty place where laws of physics are not ruling there, where time doesn't exist and there is no way out of it. If you're not the strongest divinity tho.

Nazeel: And you put this demon into such terrifying and cold place?

Lucifer: I had to...It was the only "mecriful" way I could do.

Nazeel:...Do you send all people like this demon to the void realm?

Lucifer: Not really. Actually, this realm is also rarely used, like the divine form. You can say it's like a decision for very serious cases.

Nazeel: I see......

Lucifer: If...you have more questions about what happened, I will answer them all. I only hope that what I said clears everything.

A moment of silence covered the room. Nazeel was in a thought, while Tereza and Michael got more nervous. After couple of seconds, Nazeel replied.

Nazeel: I...It's still too much for me to understand all of it now, so I need some time to think about it.

Lucifer: That's okay, it's not something that should be-

Nazeel: But I appreciate your honesty, uncle Lucifer. After what happened there, I was afraid that you have changed to someone opposite of Lucifer I know. But you stayed the same. And I'm so glad.

He smiled to Lucifer, which made everyone be surprised a bit. But a second later, Lucifer smiled too.

Lucifer: Of course I'm still the same old me~ Who else would be the funny uncle demon?~

Nazeel giggled as Tereza got confused. Michael was confused too, but smiled too.

Lucifer: So, does it mean that we can still chat with each other? Can you trust me again?

Nazeel: Of course! But promise me that won't be anymore hidden secrets like this.

Lucifer: Hehe, sure~ Pinky promise~

They smiled to each other as Nazeel suddenly hugged Lucifer tightly. Tereza and Michael could sigh with relief.

Lucifer: Woah, hey, be careful. Don't spill your hot chocolate~

Nazeel: Sorry, I'm just...so glad that you're back.

Michael: And I'm glad that you too are recovering your bond.

Tereza: Yeah, it is great~....Well, what does our little boy want to do now?

Nazeel: How about we play some video games?

Tereza: Ummm, I can't play such thing, unfortunately.

Nazeel: That's okay, I can teach you.

Lucifer: C'mon, Tereza, it will be fun~

Michael: I can make more hot chocolate meanwhile.

Tereza: Well...if you insist~

Nazeel: Yay! Tereza is joining us!

He jumped from happiness, which made his pet Sona wake up from his sleep. Michael noticed it as walked to Sona and patted him. Lucifer and Nazeel prepared the controllers and the game. They lauched it and together the crew was enjoying the game time, teaching Tereza how to play.

-------------

And that's the next part of the story^^ Lucifer and Nazeel recovered their bond at last^^ It will still take time, but they can now chat with each other like before^^

Lucifer, Michael and Tereza belong to @wildstarfan and @milasartblog (both me)

Nazeel and Sona belong to @captainthane

Okaria et Feria belongs to @wildstarfan and @captainthane

#my art #oc #oc character #okaria et feria #demon #angel #lucifer #michael #archangel #tereza #nazeel #nephilim #sona #dog #puppy #bond #chat #hug #hot chocolate

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sheerfreesia007 · 5 years ago

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Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 2)

Title: Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007

Words: 2,213

Author Notes: I just want to thank all of you who reblogged, commented and liked my first piece. It made my day and motivated me to crank this part out quickly. I love you all! I am very proud of this part so I hope you all enjoy it. Let me know what you think of it I appreciate all of your love and critiques.

It had been one of those days. You know those days where nothing went right? Where everything was bothersome and you couldn’t find any spare minute to just breathe? Yeah it had been one of those days.

Jack huffed softly as he slammed his office door loudly. Flinging his Stetson onto the large oak wood desk in the middle of the room he huffed again agitated. Running his fingers through his hair just letting the feel of his fingers rake over his scalp he closed his eyes and took in a slow even breath trying to calm himself down. His morning had been consumed by meeting after meeting with Champ and the investors of Statesman LLC and he could feel his skin crawling with irritation. He hated meetings. Huffing again softly he rolled his shoulders feeling the tension forming a knot right in between his shoulder blades. He knew that if he didn’t try to ease the tension it’d only build and build until it was unbearable. Looking over to the wide window behind his desk he smirked softly as his eyes fell onto his old whip, the one that he trained with when he had first started at Statesman. Nodding decisively he grabbed the worn whip and his Stetson moving quickly for the door.

You smiled over at Ginger Ale as the two of you moved down the hall towards the gym, you both had planned to do some training together and had finally found some free time to get to it. Just as you walked into the gym you frowned softly hearing a loud cracking noise repeatedly sounding from farther in the room. Trying to place the sound you turned to Ginger Ale for help and she breathed out exasperated.

“What is that?” you asked still not understanding what the sound meant.

“Whiskey is training.” Ginger grimaced softly as she nodded her head to a closed off room at the back of the gym. You turned completely to the room listening to the sporadic cracks coming from the room. Without even knowing it your feet had moved yourself over to the room and you peered in quietly. Whiskey stood in the middle of the room dressed in his gray suit and his Stetson with a wooden dummy standing in front of him a couple of feet away. You leaned against the door frame crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him train.

His whip cracked loudly and your eyes caught the movement of it snapping against the side of the wooden dummy making it wobble slightly. Whiskey’s quick movements picked up pace and the loud cracking sound of his whip almost became too much for your ears but you were enthralled with his skill and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Silently your mind drifted as your eyes followed his movements. His body twisted as his feet stayed planted and you watched his suit jacket rise up a little and you caught a glimpse of his ass in the suit pants. Your cheeks instantly flared with color and your eyes darted away quickly to watch the whip more closely.

It had been a couple of weeks since your last mission with Whiskey and the two of you had been constantly busy with either other missions or meetings and debriefings. You had wanted to apologize to him for falling asleep so deep that night in the cabin and not taking your watch shift but had never found the time and at this point it seemed pointless since so much time had passed. Even though the two of you had been so busy in the weeks following that mission Whiskey seemed to always find a way to come see you at some point in the day albeit it usually was just to say a quick greeting and a gift you with a wide smile before he was off again. Most of the time it was in the hallways and he was passing you with a soft ‘Afternoon darlin’’ and quick grin at your blushing cheeks or a simple ‘How’s yer day so far darlin’?’ as his fingers would ghost against your elbow as he passed.

Slowly but surely you began to wait with baited breath for those short-lived moments with him. You looked forward to hearing his deep gravelly drawl flit into your ears and to see that slow creeping grin on his face that made him look so handsome and boyish that it made your heart catch and then flutter in your chest. You didn’t know what it was but it seemed that something had changed for Whiskey and he was much more open to you then he had been before. He wasn’t as closed off and analyzing of you anymore no he seemed to be trying to get closer and closer to you in an almost watchful way, almost like he didn’t want to scare you off by coming on too strong.

Shaking your head quietly your eyes were pulled back to his form as he cracked his whip repeatedly around the wooden dummy. You could see he was becoming winded as the whip snapped and cracked faster and faster around the room. You stood in silent awe as you watched him spin on his heels and deliver a sharp snap of the whip to the dummy’s head and it finally toppled over to the floor with a loud crash. Smiling proudly your eyes looked over the fallen dummy before moving to Whiskey. Your whole body froze as you saw he was already staring at you.

“Enjoy the show darlin’?” he asked slightly winded with that easy grin you came to love.

“You’re very impressive with a whip Jack.” You admitted respectfully watching him saunter over to you at the door. “I’m surprised you didn’t use it on our last mission together.” He smiled widely at the praise you were giving him and you watched as a slight tinge of pink graced his cheeks.

“Why thank ya, it wasn’t the right place for the whip though. That restaurant was too small and I would’ve done more damage to the civilians than the targets.” He explained easily to you as he leaned his left should against the wall next to the door where you were facing you.

He was so close to you and had a hard time catching your breath as you smelt his soft woodsy cologne swirl around you. The smell of his cologne made you flash back to that morning after you had fallen asleep on him. Your nose had been smashed up against his shoulder and your arms had been wrapped around his one as if you were keeping it captive. You felt your cheeks flushing as you remembered where you had been keeping his arm captive that morning. “Ya know I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that mission.” He said softly and your eyes darted over to him worriedly.

“Me too actually.” You confessed softly with an apprehensive sigh. You watched as Whiskey’s eyes turned concerned and he turned completely to you giving you his full attention.

“You first darlin’.” He kindly allowed as he nodded his head at you. You sighed and took in a deep breath before looking over at him insecure.

“I wanted to apologize for falling asleep so deeply that I didn’t wake up for my watch.” You admitted as you ran a hand through your hair nervously. “I don’t want you to think that I’m incapable of pulling my own weight on a mission. I meant to talk to you sooner about it but ever since we’ve been back I’ve been swamped with either other missions or working in the lab when needed. Though I shouldn’t be excusing myself I really should’ve just come to talk to you about it.” You rushed out all in one breath it seemed as you took in another deep breath. Looking over at Whiskey you saw his stunning brown eyes dancing with amusement as they skimmed across your face.

“Darlin’.” He said softly to you smiling wide at you. You shook your head unwavering as you tried to quickly gather your thoughts.

“No Jack. Honestly, I should’ve come to you sooner to talk about this and it has been bothering me ever since I woke up and realized that I didn’t take my watch and let you rest. You were injured and needed to rest and I didn’t allow that to happen.” You rushed out quickly trying to convey how worried you were that you might have impeded his recovery.

Suddenly you felt yourself being tugged further into the room and your back was placed against the wall where Whiskey once leaned. You felt your breath rush out of you as you stared up at him. He caged you in softly with his hands at your hips, his fingers just lightly grazing the material of your over sized t-shirt.

“Darlin’.” He repeated firmly in that gravelly voice that seemed to make your mind focus only on him. Once he knew he had your full attention and that you weren’t going to interrupt him he continued. “You are the last agent that I could ever think would be incapable of carrying yer own weight on a mission. It was your first long mission and I knew that goin’ in, I knew you were gonn’ be exhausted and if it hadn’t all gone to shit then things would’ve been different. But you held yer own on a mission that ended badly, you should be proud of that.” He said firmly as his face was only a few inches away from yours, his eyes bored into your own making sure that you believed his words as the truth. You began to slowly nod your head but he interrupted you with a devilish smirk and twinkling eyes. “’Sides I was always told not to wake a sleep talker or was that a sleep walker?” He drawled out quietly. You felt your eyes widen as his crinkled at the edges in amusement.

“Wh-what?” you gasped out softly feeling your chest constrict in slight panic, maybe you had heard him wrong.

“Ya talk in yer sleep darlin’.” He said nodding his head smiling wide. Nope you had heard him just fine.

“What’d I say Whiskey?” you asked afraid to find out what trouble your sleep talking had gotten you into now. You closed your eyes softly and licked your dry lips quickly. With your eyes closed you missed Whiskey’s eyes following your tongue with a heated look as it swiped across your mouth. You also missed Whiskey’s own tongue swiping against his own lips in a mirror move to yours.

“Oh nothing special just that ya love me.” He whispered softly as he moved closer to you. Your eyes instantly shot open and your apology died in your throat as you stared into Whiskey’s eyes. There was something there in those gorgeous deep chocolate eyes that had your chest tightening and your heart beating a rapid staccato beat against your ribs. It was something almost like he was pleading with you to confess. “Don’t pretend that you don’t feel the same way. I heard you that night.” He whispered softly, you could feel his lips brush against yours tenderly and carelessly wondered when he’d gotten so close. Wait a minute, feel the same way? Whiskey felt the same way as you did?

“Wait.” You said softly and felt your own lips brush against his and they began to tingle. Whiskey hummed softly and you were so sure you could feel the vibration of the sound on your lips. You pulled back minutely just so you could gather your thoughts. “Feel the same way?” you asked softly. “You love me?” your voice barely above a whisper but it didn’t matter the two of you were so close that he heard every word.

“Have since I met ya darlin’.” He smirked softly at you. Suddenly you felt a surge of confidence overtake your body and you flicked the brim of his Stetson up a few inches on his forehead.

“I’ve got ya beat cowboy. Have loved you since I saw you back in my lab rat days.” You admitted smirking. You watched as his eyes widened slightly and then suddenly he was weaving his fingers in the hair at the back of your head pulling you impossibly closer and his lips slanting over yours. You squeaked as the air was knocked clear out of your lungs and your hands grappled at his shoulders trying to get a solid hold on him. You felt your body start to tingle at the sensations his kiss was eliciting inside you and you both pulled away as it seemed almost too much.

“What do ya say we go explore this somewhere more private?” he asked huskily as his hands gripped at your hips and dragged them closer to his.

“I need to hear your say it first Jack. I need to know it’s true.” You whispered in a desperate plea as you gulped air into your starving lungs.

“I love you darlin’.” He drawled out lowly his eyes flashing a roguish look as he dragged you from the room quickly and away from a bewildered Ginger Ale.

#my writing #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #kingsman the golden circle #fallin' all in you

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damienthepious · 5 years ago

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boy howdy it Sure Is Time For Lizard Kissin’. like. lots of Lizard Kissin’, honestly.

Scattered On My Shore (Chapter 17)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [Ch 12] [Ch 13] [Ch 14] [Ch 15] [Ch 16] [ao3] [Ch 18] [Ch 19]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum & The Keep

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Pre-Relationship, (for the three of them. it’s established r/d), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, (this will also be), Enemies to Lovers, (for damien and arum eventually lol), Mutual Pining, canon typical Arum ignoring feelings

Fic Summary: Strange things wash up out of the lake near Rilla’s hut, on occasion. But this monster… this monster is certainly the strangest.

Chapter Summary: Morning, warm and safe, and together.

Chapter Notes: A short chapter and a weird chapter and i don't know whether to be sorry about it, but a certain someone(s) will yell at me if i am, so. I hope you enjoy? One more chapter probably to wrap things up, hopefully. probably. probably. I love you, kiss a lizzer.

Damien wakes at the same time he does nearly every day, regardless of the light strain in his muscles from the last leg of the journey, from the duel. He inhales deeply before his eyes are even open, and he hears an unfamiliar creak of wood, smells rich soil and vague sweet florals, feels the softness of his Rilla close by his side, feels-

The rise and fall of a scaled chest, beneath his own cheek. Scaled arms, wrapped around him. A clawed hand, curled at his lower back.

Damien blinks his eyes open, and stares at the gleaming, dappled scales he is resting against, and his heart-

His heart beats steady, and calm, and certain, and Damien wishes to wake like this… every day, if he is able. As often as he is allowed to do so, at the very least. His forever-flower close and safe and warm by his side, Arum's hands wrapped around the both of them.

He closes his eyes again, feeling their bodies beside him, committing this precise feeling to memory, future rhythms and rhymes tickling the back of his tongue. He breathes, slow and safe, and Rilla and Arum breathe as well, untroubled in slumber.

Content as he is, though, Damien knows that if he remains in their arms for much longer he will come in danger of waking them. The urge to press his lips to Rilla's shoulder, to the scales above Arum's heart- he would not dare risk it, but the temptation is too strong.

And- well, it is morning, and Damien has a routine to maintain, of course.

Arum's grasp upon him is loose in sleep; it is not terribly difficult to extricate himself, to allow the lizard's limbs to curl around Rilla instead, and neither wake though Rilla mutters something in her sleep as she presses her face into Arum's shoulder. That alone is enough that Damien needs press a hand hard over his mouth, the words on his tongue threatening to spill past his lips with the force of his adoration.

As Damien pulls his eyes away from that utterly enthralling sight, he realizes that they are no longer in the same place they fell to sleep the night before. They are not by Arum's table- in fact, they appear to be in a bed.

Arum's bed, Damien must assume.

He bites his lip, feels heat in his cheeks, and decides not to think too deeply on that particular detail.

Not at the moment, at least.

He tiptoes away from the bed, towards the loose curtain of leafy vines that separate the room from a wide balcony outside, shrugging off his shirt as he goes. The swamp below is utterly beautiful, breathtaking and thrumming with life, splotched with color and vibrancy, and Damien inhales the floral morning air of the Keep deeply, and then he begins his exercises.

Tranquility. Damien is filled with the feeling again as the sunlight hums warm through his eyelids, and he did not realize that he had been lacking, before. No, he had settled into his knighthood and achieved not tranquility, but complacency. Perhaps the one had preluded the other, but nonetheless he had allowed himself to forget the water, forget the flow of the river, to stagnate.

Damien slowly works his body, wakes his muscles, whispers his prayers to the morning air, to his Saint.

Mostly, this morning, his prayers revolve around the theme of thankfulness. Damien does not think he has ever felt so blessed.

He is settled, sun-warmed, utterly tranquil by the time he is finished, and he takes a long moment to simply… lean on the woven structure of the balcony railing, looking down upon the hazy glory of the swamp beneath him, rich greens and browns speckled through with vibrant purple, colors that echo and summon to memory the elegant visage of the monster still resting inside. The echo alone is enough to make Damien's heart ache, and he cannot think of a single good reason to deny himself the joy of returning to their sides, of holding patient vigil until his loves wake.

He gently sweeps the vine curtain aside as he steps back in from the sunlight, but he pauses in the threshold when he sees the flash of violet, gazing at him from the bed.

Rilla is still sleeping, still curled against Arum's chest, but the monster is awake. Awake, and attentive, if the brightness of his eyes is any indication, and Damien feels his cheeks heat again.

"A-Arum," he says, his voice pitched carefully low. "I- I did not wake you, did I?"

Arum shakes his head, his mouth curling into a slight smile.

Damien stands in the threshold, licks his lips, and Arum watches him quietly.

"I… it is… your home is beautiful, Lord Arum," he says eventually, and Arum's expression softens even further, going pleased and warm. "Thank you for… for sharing it with us."

"Honeysuckle," Arum says softly, and Damien feels the word like a ribbon wrapped around his throat. Soft, and welcome, but undeniable as well.

"Yes, Arum?"

The monster stares for another moment, one of his palms drifting very, very slowly up and down Rilla's back as she sleeps, and then his tongue flicks before he meets Damien's eyes again.

"Come here," he murmurs, and then he lifts a hand in Damien's direction. "Please."

Arum's eyes are soft, warm, perhaps a little worried- more worried, the longer Damien does not respond. He shakes off his surprise, and he does as Arum asks, padding closer until he is within Arum's reach.

Arum does not reach, though. Not immediately. He holds his outstretched hand just away from Damien's arm, and Damien sees him swallow before the monster glances up enough to meet his eyes again. "Honeysuckle," he repeats in a murmur, the nerves in his eyes sparking brighter.

Damien feels his lips pulling into a smile, affection making him feel near giddy, and then he kneels beside the bed, putting himself closer to eye level with the monster as he reclines, trapped beneath Rilla's quietly sleeping body.

"Arum," he murmurs, and then he drifts his palm across the back of Arum's hand, feeling the texture of scales against his skin, and then he gently pulls Arum's hand to his mouth so he may place a kiss at the heel of his palm, joy welling higher and hotter within him when that makes the monster give a keening sort of noise.

Arum swallows again, his hand flexing in Damien's, and then he drifts the tips of his claws across Damien's cheek with delicate care.

"Come here," he breathes again, and Damien blinks. "Closer, honeysuckle."

Damien leans forward, Arum's hand on his cheek tickling gentle as the space between them softens. Damien pulls himself back onto the bed beside them, careful, and Arum's eyes stay fixed upon him, steady and determined and only barely edged with nervousness now.

Damien pauses, then, close but still with space for breath between them, and there is something expectant on Arum's face now, but Damien is still not entirely sure…

He reaches out, cupping Arum's face as Arum is cupping his. Arum's breath catches, his frill raising just barely, and he leans into the touch, a rumble growing in his chest.

"Well?" the monster says in a whisper, and Damien blinks again.

"W-well?" he echoes, uncertain, and Arum's hand on his face flexes, claws so terribly careful against the skin beneath his ear. "Well, what?"

Arum exhales, his frill raising further, and the nervousness returns to his eyes though he does not pull his hand away. "I… I am… I imagine that you understand better… what is expected next. Human… convention is quite beyond me."

Damien tilts his head, letting his cheek rest more fully in Arum's palm. "I am not quite sure what you mean," he says gently.

"All- all of this." Arum gestures with another hand, vague and wincing as he does. "Being- being together. I have your example- yours and Amaryllis', but- but I have been- attempting not to allow myself to- look. Not to look too closely at the pair of you."

Damien blinks, warmth blooming brighter in his chest at the uncertainty and worry on Arum's face. "Oh." He breathes a light laugh, caressing Arum's jaw when the monster winces again. "Oh, well- if- if you are concerned for convention, I think you may safely set those concerns aside. This- this," he strokes his thumb over Arum's cheek, lifting his other hand and placing it over Arum's to draw light down Rilla's back. "This us. This you, and I, and she… it would be madness to expect us to be conventional, Arum. We must find our own rhythms, our own union, our own strength."

Arum exhales slowly, some of the tension in his shoulders softening, and he nods very slightly. "A fair point," he murmurs. "Nonetheless I am… uncertain what I should… do."

"Your instincts seem to be sound," Damien says, his voice warm, and then he pulls his hand back to cup Arum's own, cradling it against his cheek. "This is… quite lovely. I no longer need pretend that I have not longed for your hands upon me… longed to know the caress of scale upon my skin, longed to discover how your arms would feel around me… around us."

Arum's breath whirs, his tongue flicking, his slitted pupils slowly widening to dark diamonds. "You…" he smiles, very slightly. "Even at this hour you drift into poetics. I suppose I should not be surprised to hear the songbird lilt with the rise of the sun."

"I will lilt for you whenever you like, Arum," Damien breathes. "I am afraid I cannot help myself… the only words I can find to describe you, to describe what I want from you- they are all of them rather poetic."

"What you… want from me," Arum echoes, his tongue flicking again, and Damien feels his cheeks heat.

"I find myself more concerned, at the moment," he answers, "with what you want from me. If you are unsure what you should do, Arum, I think perhaps that would be the place to start. You answered me yesterday in a much grander sense, what you desire from us, but- what of this moment? No expectations, no convention. What do you desire?"

"You," Arum answers instantly, and Damien's breath leaves him in a sharp exhale. "Amaryllis," he continues. "This." He caresses Damien's cheek, the sharpness of his claws utterly careful, utterly safe. "Only this."

Damien blinks quickly, fighting back the dampness in his eyes, and his smile is helpless and warm. "An easy desire to fulfill, then," he murmurs, his voice wavering only slightly with the force of his adoration, and he edges a little closer, one arm pressing against Arum's as he arranges himself back on the bed more closely to the pair of them. "Have you any other desires we may meet with such ease?"

"I…" Arum trails off, his eyes flicking between Damien's, and then he gives a very soft laugh. "P-perhaps-"

Damien waits, but Arum does not finish the thought. He raises an eyebrow, staring at the monster as his frill begins to flutter again. "Arum?"

"Closer," Arum manages, his voice vaguely strained. "Would you-" he breaks off, hissing low, ducking his head, and then he sucks in a slower, steadying breath before he braves meeting Damien's eyes.

Violet, violet like-

Like nothing else. No metaphor Damien can summon would even come close. And those eyes, full of so much feeling, full of emotion, full of-

Love. Warm and overflowing, brighter and bolder than whatever fear is attempting to hold Arum's tongue.

"Kiss me again, Damien," the monster says at last, and the words may be a command in form, but Damien hears the desperation coloring them into a plea.

Damien's heart pulses, love rushing through him like a wave, and he knows that he could not possibly deny Lord Arum so sweet a request. He could not. Moreover, he does not want to.

Damien leans down, slow and patient, feeling Arum's sharp breath against him for a lingering moment before he presses even closer, and Arum's name bounces on his lips as they brush soft over the monster's mouth.

Arum gasps, light and sweet, one hand slipping back to claw gently through Damien's hair, the monster's breath whirring at the back of his throat, the texture of his scales making Damien's lips tingle.

Arum's mouth doesn't move like Rilla's, the contact stiffer, cooler, but the way his claws flex at the nape of Damien's neck, the soft whine he gives, the light pressure of his teeth against Damien's lower lip, all of it spins together into something strange, overwhelming, enthralling, and Damien is utterly helpless against the pull of it, utterly unable to do anything else besides press another kiss to Arum's mouth, and another, until they blend out of individual context, until he loses the thread of anything besides the sensation itself.

"Good morning," Rilla says, some time later by Damien's hazy estimation, and her voice is syrupy with sleep. Arum hisses as Damien pulls back with a sharp inhale, his heart swelling with delight as it ever does when his flower blesses him with her attention. She stretches against Arum (the monster gasps again), looking up at the both of them with warm, dark, gleeful eyes and a smile that squeezes Damien's heart. "Gotta say, I'm not a morning person, but if I can wake up to that more often I could probably be lured over to your side, Damien."

"Rilla," Damien murmurs, and Arum's claws are still in his hair as Rilla gives him that sly, loving smile, and Damien's fevered mind wonders briefly how happy it is physically possible to be. "Oh, oh love-"

She leans up and kisses him without preamble, and Damien's eyes slip automatically closed even as he hears Arum give a ticking rattle of surprise mere inches away, his palm drifting down the back of Damien's neck. Rilla's mouth slides against his own, familiar and intoxicating before she pulls back with a low hum of pleasure. "Sleep well, Damien?" she murmurs, and Damien presses another kiss to her cheek, chaste and delicate.

"Entirely soundly," he answers, "and blessed to wake with such beauty surrounding me, as well."

Arum ducks his head, his smile both flustered and pleased, his chest rumbling- purring, Damien realizes, at the base of his throat, and Rilla turns her warm gaze upon him next.

"Good morning, Arum," her voice soft as she smiles up at him, pressing her palm to his chest. "Are you feeling okay today?"

Arum blinks, as if taking a moment to remember his own injuries. "I… yes. I feel… I… I think, perhaps, I feel better than I ever have," he says, very quietly.

"Really," Rilla says, her eyebrows raising as her smile goes wider, her hand drifting up from his chest, up the column of his throat, gently brushing the edges of his healing frill. "All better, that quick?"

The monster wrinkles his snout, huffing a breath. "Well. A- a little sore, still, perhaps. But-"

Rilla lifts herself up, leaning to press her lips to the scales of his frill, and Arum breaks off into a whirring hiss.

"Saints," she whispers, and then she kisses him again, lips brushing his neck. "Y'know- I'd be lying if I said I hadn't wanted to do that for a long time."

"I-" Arum pants a breath, the hand he still has curled around her lifting to stroke down her braid. "I- I would be lying if I said I had not been longing for…" he exhales a laugh. "I didn't even know what. Your touch, your conversation, your attention … all of it. This." The arms he is caressing each of them with curl more tightly around them, tugging them into a proper embrace. "This," he says more softly, and then he runs the tip of his snout along Rilla's jaw, nuzzling and flicking his tongue lightly at the skin of her throat. He lifts his remaining two hands, taking Rilla's own in one and Damien's in the other, tangling his fingers with theirs, squeezing. "This," he repeats. "This, I wanted quite dearly."

Damien's heart swells almost painfully, and he lifts Arum's hand to kiss his knuckles, his mind a tangle of prayer and poetry and love.

"I wish I could keep you here forever," Arum whispers, giving barely enough breath to be heard, closing his eyes as Damien kisses his knuckles again. "I know, of course, I cannot. I know you must… return to your lives, but- but so short a time, knowing- allowing myself- so little time to- to love you properly, takatakataka. So little time before we must- before you leave-"

Rilla cups Arum's face in both hands, her dark skin so indescribably beautiful against the jewel-gleam of Arum's scales, and then she kisses him, slow and thorough and sweet, and Damien's heart swells yet again at the sight of these two precious creatures tangling together.

When she pulls back, only leaving just enough space between them for breath, for words, Arum exhales slowly, calmly.

"We'll figure it out," Rilla says, her voice utterly confident. "And… in the meantime," she pauses to kiss him again, "I don't see any reason to rush off home this instant, if you aren't eager to kick us out anymore-"

"Of course not," Arum growls. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Good," she says, and then she glances Damien's way, raising her eyebrow in a question that makes Damien's cheeks go hot, and he knows that she understands his desires precisely without him needing to even nod. "In that case… I think maybe we could just… spend the morning here... just like this, and we can work out something else I think we all want."

Arum stares up at her for an uncomprehending moment, and then Rilla presses another, deeper kiss to his mouth, her hands slipping back to wrap around him, one cupping the back of his head, her tongue darting out to trace the line of his teeth, and when she pulls back again Arum pants out a wild sort of breath, his diamond pupils widened such that they are nearly round, now.

"If," Damien says gently, "that is something you desire as well." He smiles, leaning up to peck the tip of Arum's snout much more chastely. "Whatever it is you do desire, we will love you all the same," he says, and Rilla nods beside him. "So… why don't you tell us, then. What do you want?"

Arum stares down at the both of them, his frill flared and flushed, his eyes wide and bright and intense, and then the monster smiles.

"You," he says, simply. "Both of you. Of course I want you, however much of yourselves you choose to share. I will treat your generosity with precisely as much care as it deserves."

Rilla's smirk softens, and she draws her hand down the back of Arum's neck slowly, making him hiss and shiver. "You big softie," she murmurs.

Arum narrows his eyes, though he cannot seem to clamp down on his own smile as he hisses, "Arrogant little creature."

"I love you both so much," Damien keens, the words bubbling up past any semblance of control, and Arum and Rilla both look towards him.

Rilla's smile is soft, understanding, and Arum looks nearly awestruck with it before he flicks his tongue, breathing something like a laugh. He shifts, pulling himself up to lean over Damien, crowding close enough to rub his cheek along Damien's, sweet and affectionate.

"I love the both of you more than I know how to say," he says in a voice that trembles with both emotion and laughter. "So perhaps-" he pulls back, his violet eyes so determined and full of undeniable desire, and he reaches a hand out, drawing Rilla closer as she laughs. "Perhaps, little humans, I should show you, instead."

[->]

#elle's fanfic #scattered on my shore #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #sir damien #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #pblease....im.. self conches

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laurazepamwrites · 5 years ago

Text

The Chemicals between us ~ Chapter 12

“Here is your office, Ma'am.” Said the young Vishkar receptionist, pushing open the frosted glass door to a pristine, well lit room that offered a generous view of the bustling city of Istanbul below. “You have a video call from Mr Korpal at three.” Satya glanced at the clock, she had twenty minutes to settle into her new surroundings. “Thank you.” She said to the receptionist who gave her a polite nod and left. Satya looked around the room, it was her first time in Vishkars Turkish offices but no matter where you were in the world, Vishkars style was indistinguishable. Sleek, clean and modern. Satya walked to some nearby shelves which were sparsely adorned with a book on hard-light, a small model of the headquarters in Utopaea and to her distaste a wilting houseplant. She wiped a finger over the shelf and inspected it for dust, she made a satisfactory noise and seated herself at the desk which created a hard light screen in front of her. ‘Identification please.’ It spoke in a computerized female voice. Satya cleared her throat and answered. “Satya Vaswani, Architect.”

‘Voice recognition correct. Good afternoon Miss Vaswani.’ The screen split into three and a hard light keyboard emerged in front of her. She touched one screen which moved forwards of the other two and it was with this one she accessed her emails. The most recent one was from Sanjay who had moved her meeting forward, she replied quickly to alert him she had arrived in time and was waiting. Her next email made Satya narrow her eyes slightly, The header said ‘Do you wanna know a secret?’ followed by a small pixel of a purple skull. Satya tutted and deleted it promptly. Spammers always seemed to find their way into Vishkars email boxes. Perhaps the Juniors and Interns were using their time unwisely online, she should say something before one of them accidentally opens a virus. Looking up through the clear hardlight wall of her office she noticed the young woman that showed her in chatting with another member of staff. A young man who looked to be in his twenties, eating his lunch whilst talking to the young receptionist. Satya watched in disgust as he took a bite out of his food and watched a dollop of sauce land on his shirt. She grimaced..perhaps she would talk to them later. The second screen suddenly lit up and played a tune and rotated to the front. ‘Incoming call from Sanjay Korpal.’ The computer's voice informed her. Satya sat up even straighter if that was possible for her and smoothed out her perfectly kept clothes and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear before delicately swiping the screen to answer. “Good afternoon Sanjay.”

“Ah Satya, glad to see you have settled in. I do apologize for the change in times.”

“It was of no concern. I hope your meetings in Monaco have gone well.”

“They have indeed but I will not bore you with the details. Have you read the Istanbul brief?”

Satya swiftly brought up the files on the 3rd screen on her latest project. A few weeks had passed since she had left Oasis and had returned to Vishkars headquarters before being assigned to Turkey for -in her opinion- what was an underwhelming project for Vishkar. A small hardlight complex paid for by a local celebrity. It was beneath her.

“Is this not the kind of assignment for less skilled architects?”

Sanjay laughed. “Oh satya I do enjoy your bluntness. Whilst I would agree normally I'm afraid I will need to keep you in the shadows a while longer, just until the Brazil fiasco is forgotten. We still haven't located the stolen technology. Correia dos Santos has been untraceable”

Satya felt a flair of anger rise within her and it showed in her tone. “Nevermind the technology..our mission was to help the people of Rio and they rebelled. Why am I the one to be punished for their lack of sense and gratitude?”

“Don't get upset Satya, you are not being punished. We just feel it would be best to keep you out of the limelight for a short while. I’m doing it myself, working behind the scenes as it were. Don't you worry, myself and the other executives have a huge project in the works and you'll be the one to create our vision. Take this time to rest yourself and perfect your art. We have great plans for you Satya. Do not concern yourself with people who refuse paradise for they do not deserve it.”

His words reminded her of her strange meeting with the Minister of Genetics, “You sound like Dr O’Deorain. She told me something similar herself when I met her in Oasis.”

Sanjay's face had gone from smiling to something much less approving and he shifted in his seat. “And what er..what is it the Madam minister told you?”

“She told me to remind you that sacrifices must be made for the greater good and order will be born from chaos.”

“Was that all?”

“Only that Vishkar shares Oasis ideals, where ingenuity will lead mankind to a greater future..She..She did mention how unfortunate Brazil was for us.”

Sanjay smirked unpleasantly and loosened the tie around his neck. “I can assume she put the fault at my door? The Minister has an eloquent way with words that still stab deeply. I'd expect no less of her.”

“Do you know her personally, Sanjay?”

“Hmm? Oh no, I met her only briefly when I have visited Oasis in the past. She is an ally of Vishkar and has voted for a partnership but I have yet to meet a more dangerous woman. she’ll find a weakness and unravel it like a thread.”

“She said I will rise from the ashes with the best of humanity.”

“Of course she did. Moira is a very clever woman and would be blind to not see your potential my dear. It's what I have always told you Satya, and soon you will come to understand that yourself once our grand vision comes to light under your hands. Do the dumb models house and enjoy your time in Turkey, soon everything will make sense I promise.”

“I need more information Sanjay, are we creating more cities? Brazil was a huge financial setback for us, how can we afford to-”

“Satya do not upset yourself with things you do not understand. All you need to know is what to build and where to build it. You’re an Architect, you have no need to concern yourself with the boring affairs of my work.” He was smiling at her but his jaw was clenched and eyes set hard on her. He hated being questioned and divulging the details of how Vishkar was run. Satya lowered her eyes. “I am sorry Sanjay.”

Sanjay relaxed and leaned back in his chair, “All is forgiven my dear, now why don't you take some time to explore the city? I will be in touch in a few days to hear how your project went. Remember, I expect nothing but perfection from you.”

Satya blinked at the now blank screen as Sanjay ended the call. She felt slightly ashamed for questioning him and risking his temper, it was not her place.

She was simply the tool.

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Everyday around four in the afternoon on the plaza outside of the Vishkar Istanbul offices the local cafe takes out a cold trolley stocked with flasks of the traditional local drink called Şerbet. It was a routine of Arda Yilmaz, an office administrator for Vishkar, to come down to the plaza everyday to purchase the sugary drink. He would then sit on the edge of a grand stone fountain and watch his colleagues taking their own break, the locals going about their business or tourists studying a map and looking lost. Today was no different except for the fact the most established Architect Vishkar had was now in the building. He wiped at the sauce stain on his shirt hoping she wouldn't notice should he bump into her, Arda wanted to make a good first impression after all. He glanced at his watch and stood up, his break nearly over he began heading back to the office. In the corner of his eye he saw an old woman, walking heavily on a can and carrying a hefty shopping bag. She wore an intricately designed headscarf and large dark sunglasses. Arda paid her no mind until he heard a soft ‘Oh!’ coming from her direction, looking over as he prepared to swipe his ID card to enter the building he saw the old woman had dropped some shopping.

“Oh thank you young man!” Said the woman in an Arabic accent as Arda knelt down to place her belongings back in her bag. “My daughter will scold me for doing too much again, My poor back will have hell to pay tomorrow.”

Arda stood up and handed the woman her shopping. “You’re welcome Ma’am. Do you live nearby? Can I call you a taxi?”

“Oh how sweet of you!” She said, reaching up and pinching his cheek. “My daughter is parked just around the corner, would you be a dear to help me the rest of the way?”

Arda smiled brightly at her and took the rest of her bags in one hand and offered her his elbow to assist her walking. The old woman gratefully accepted and as they walked she asked if he worked in that big beautiful building, he must be important to work there since she saw a grand looking car pull up earlier on her way to market with a serious looking woman leaving the vehicle.

“Oh you must have seen Satya Vaswani. She's the best architect Vishkar has, I don't know why they sent someone like her here though. She's a genius! Oh is that your car ma'am?” They had walked up a deserted alleyway to the only vehicle parked there. “Strange place to leave your car, there's a car park not far from here.”

“There is, dear. But there's a lot of cameras and security and I'm very shy.” Said the old woman letting go of his arm. Arda looked at her in surprise as she dropped her cane and stood up straight. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a gun. “This will only hurt for a minute.” She said and shot him in the leg. Poor Arda had barely time to react as an intense wave of fatigue washed over him and he slumped backwards and leant heavily on the boot of the car. Ana moved towards him, opening the back door and gently guided him in. He was too exhausted to resist and was seconds from sleep. “I'm sorry dear but you looked the nicest one to work with.” He heard her say. “You’ll wake up in a couple of hours and are free to leave, there's a pillow to sleep on and I left an energy bar in the glove compartment. You’re gonna feel rough when you wake up. Oh, i'll be needing this too..” She took the ID around his neck and pocketed it in her handbag. Ana took off the headscarf she wore stuffing it under the seat and replacing it with a floral scarf and a new pair of sunglasses. She topped her new disguise off with a sunhat.

“You know, Vinegar and soda will get that mustard stain out of your shirt.” Ana smiled warmly at him. She shut the car door and Arda fell into the deepest slumber he would ever have.

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Mei tucked her hair behind her ear as she nervously watched Angela check them into the hotel. She did not doubt Athena's abilities to provide false identification but she was still scared they would be caught out or recognised. The Omnic receptionist typed away at the computer on the check in desk and Mei felt a rush of relief when he bid them welcome to Calais and gave Angela the room keys. Their room was adequate for the night with twin beds, shower and tv. Mei released Snowball from one of her bags and was instantly berated for his undignified imprisonment. “Well I'm sorry Snowball but the Commander said you could only come if you stay hidden.” She curtly retorted. She looked to Angela who had already unpacked the few essentials she brought and was tidying her long blonde hair in the mirror, hair pins sticking out of her mouth. “What do you suggest we do first Angela? One of the addresses Athena found is about a 10minute drive away.”

Angela quickly pinned back her hair into a neat bun and admired it at different angles. “I think it's best to start from there before we draw too much attention to ourselves. After that we can act like tourists, get dinner then go over whatever we have found. We can discuss the Omnic rally tonight.”

“Do you think there will be trouble?”

“Depends who is in attendance” Angela said, checking her pistol and holstering it at the hip. “Liberte was supposed to be speaking but who knows who will take his place and if they will stir the crowds up, and don't forget Null sector where seen in the area not long ago. We must keep our guard up always.”

It didn't take long to locate the first lead, on a quiet street in Calais they found the residence of Pix Elle. A female omnic who had reported her husband Hub 0.5 missing only four days earlier. Angela parked up the car and got out, looking up at the grey imposing apartment building that housed humanoid Omnics. “They live here?” Mei asked, joining Angelas side. The building was old and dirty, in obvious disrepair and had pro Omnic graffiti paired with hateful anti omnic slogans. “Its terrible.” Stated Angela grimly. As they approached Pix Elles door Angela took out a badge from her handbag. “We’re journalists Mei, I’ll do the talking. We’ll keep it nice and casual so we don't arouse suspicion. She may be defensive.” Mei nodded in agreement, thankful Angela was taking charge. She had a brief thought that maybe it would have been a good idea to bring Zenyatta along to ease communications between humans and Omnic but it was too late for that. Angela gave the door a couple of knocks and Mei could hear movement from within, a minute later the door opened a crack, a softly glowing light blue omnic eye peered out at them. “Hello?” It said with uncertainty.

“Pix Elle? My name is Amanda Muller and this is Lin Chang." Angela quickly showed her the holographic paper that Athena had tampered with to create a fake ID badge. “We work for ‘The connexion’ paper and wondered if you would be willing to help us with our report.” Pix Elle opened the door wider. “Is this about Hub's disappearance?”

Angela glanced at Mei. “Yes. We think he may not be the only one missing and we need as much information as possible. Can you assist us?”

Pix Elle looked between the two women and opened the door fully. “Yes! Yes please come in, I was beginning to think no one was going to help. The police said there wasn't much they could do, just to put out flyers with his face on. Is that how you found me? Oh! Please sit, I'm sorry this place is such a mess! We don't usually have human visitors so i'm afraid I can't offer you anything to drink.”

“Please don't worry about us, we’re here to help.” Angela gestured to a chair opposite herself and Mei. “Can you tell me about your husband?”

Pix Elle sat and looked down sadly. “Hub is a good man. He never got into any trouble and this is not like him I swear. He always comes straight home from work. I..I don't know what to do. No one wants to help Omnics, even my own kind is too scared to help. They think they will disappear too!”

“How many have disappeared Pix Elle?” Asked Mei.

“Three that I know of, maybe more?” She answered.

“Do you know them? Does Hub?” Angela asked.

“No, I don't think so, he tells me everything.”

Angela took a notebook from her bag. “Where does Hub work, Pix Elle?”

“At the Port, he works on moving cargo..for Global Freight. He finishes late at night and then one night he just didn't come back. This was nearly four days ago! What If something bad has happened to him?” She was clearly upset.

“That's what we want to find out about Pix Elle, we want to find out what's been happening to Omnics lately. Has anything strange been happening here? Anything you have seen?”

“Well..I saw some strange looking Omnics outside the apartment but only once. They sprayed the building but so many do.. There's alot of omnic gangs around, do you think they hurt him?”

Angela shared a look with Mei, “It's a possibility. Pix Elle what do you know of Null Sector?”

“Null Sector? They’re an extremist Omnic rights cell yes? I know a couple of members were caught here not long ago but they were released without charge. Do..do you think Hub has joined them?”

“Im not sure Pix..”

“If he has then he’s surely alive right?! Hub always talk about omnic rights and how we deserve better! We planned on going to the rally together tomorrow. Maybe he’ll be there!”

Mei looked sadly at the Omnic who was now full of hope. It was cruel how they were treated, how they lived. She looked around the tiny apartment. It was cold and dark, the only light coming from a small window. They had little furniture, few possessions..a photo frame caught her eye. Mei stood up and walked over to it, gently picking it up. “Is this Hub?” She asked.

“That was taken a few days after we met, Hub took me to a protest as a first date could you believe! It was a wonderful day, Tekhartha Mondatta was the speaker. May the Iris embrace him.”

“Did you know Liberte was meant to be at the rally tomorrow?” Angela asked.

“Yes, me and Hub looked forward to seeing him but he’s cancelled his last 3 events. He is still using his social media and has urged his followers to still attend despite the threat of Null sector. Maybe he will be there, like Hub!”

Angela looked sympathetically at her. “I'm sure we will get to the bottom of this Pix Elle, and I hope you get the closure you need. I think Lin and I have what we need from you, we won't disturb you any longer.” Angela stood up and held out her hand for the omnic to shake. Pix Elle grasped it tightly with both hands. “It means so much that someone heard my cry for help, please. Please help bring my Hub home!”

“We’ll do our best Pix Elle, I promise. Maybe we’ll see you at the rally tomorrow.” Angela smiled gently at her and pulled her hand away. Once they had left and walked down the stairs did they speak. “Do you think he joined Null sector?” Mei asked. “Do you think any of them did?”

Angela looked sadly back at her. “No Mei..I think they are dead. Whatever is happening to them, whatever purpose. I don't think there's a happy ending for them. Maybe whatever happened to these omnics is different from what happened to the ones In Bryansk..I don't know. It's bad though. It's very bad.”

Mei pushed the door to the apartment building open. “Do you think Liberte is even missing? Pix Elle said he’s still using his social media, maybe it's personal reasons after all..?”

“Unless someone else is using his account.” Said Angela, who had stopped to look at some Omnic graffiti on the building. “This must be the one Pix Elle spoke about. It looks new.” Mei looked at it, it was an Omnic rising into the air, silhouetted against a bright golden sun in a blood red sky. Beneath him was charred bones and burning buildings, strange symbols lined the bottom which looked like the Omnics coded language. “Wow that's erm..bold?” Mei said with uncertainty, suddenly feeling very exposed in an Omnic neighbourhood. “I agree, let's move on.” Said Angela taking her arm and steering her towards the car.

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The security guard looked up with suspicion as Ana used the Vishkar ID to enter the building. “Oh hello young man, I hope i'm in the right place. This badge belongs to my grandson, he told me he left it at home and got into some trouble this morning for forgetting it. He’s working late so I also brought him dinner.”

The guard studied the ID and recognised the employee, didn't he see him leave earlier? Perhaps he was mistaken. He can't be expected to remember every single person that went through those doors.

“There's also my famous almond biscuits if I need to bribe my way in?” The old woman whispered cheekily.

The guard chuckled lightly. “No need Ma'am. I believe he works on the 9th floor, the elevator is down the corridor on the left.”

“Thank you dear.”

One of the elevator doors opened as Ana approached, she stepped aside to allow the person to leave and was pleasantly surprised to come face to face with none other than Satya Vaswani. “After you my dear.” Ana said pleasantly, gesturing to go ahead. “Thank you.” Satya replied politely and walked into the foyer. Ana noted she looked somewhat flustered but thanked her own good luck that Satya was leaving as she pressed the button for the top floor. Some people entered and left the elevator but gave her no mind, polite nods of greeting were exchanged but why would anyone give a thought to an old woman. The 9th floor came and went as Ana accessended to the top of the building, stepping out confidently and walking in the spacious well lit reception area. Ana took note of how many offices were on this floor, three in total. Each one housed a potential treasure trove of information, but it was only one she needed to access.

“Can I help you?” A young receptionist asked as Ana approached.

“Ah yes dear, I have my Grandsons ID and dinner. I was told to bring it to the 9th floor.”

“Oh, well this is the 15th floor Ma’am.” The receptionist said politely. “May I take the ID?”

“Oh my damn eyes get worse everyday.” Ana laughed and handed her the badge and eyed up the doors, spotting Satya's name on the end office. “Oh your Ardas grandmother?” The receptionist said brightly. “How sweet, he always talks about you.”

“Of course he does, I'm an amazing woman.”

“Im so sorry to hear about your husband.”

“Yes, well death takes us all in the end my dear.”

“Oh..Arda told me he left with a woman half his age..?”

“Oh for the love of..!” Ana rolled her eye, swiftly pulling out her sleep gun and darted the girl in the neck. She went down quicker than Arda had and she made quite a noise as her head hit the desk. Ana braced herself expecting a couple of Vishkar executives to investigate the noise but the offices appeared to be unoccupied.

“My luck is soon going to run out” Ana said to herself as she positioned the receptionist into a more comfortable position and took her phone off the hook. She snatched her ID off her neck and quickly went to Satya's office, thankful the ID allowed her entry. Ana sat at the desk and was greeted with a hard light screen. ‘Identification please.’ The screen asked.

“Athena do your magic” Ana whispered as she attached a small microchip to the screen. Instantly it changed from blue to green as Athena began hacking into the Vishkar computer. Lines of code repeated over and over making Ana doubt it was working. ‘Voice recognition correct. Good afternoon Miss Vaswani.’ Oh!

“Athena you are truly a marvelous creation.” Ana praised as she began downloading information onto the microchip. She checked her watch..she had been in this building less than 15minutes and was soon to walk out her payload. This old woman still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

“What do you think you are doing?” Satya asked coldly from the door to the office.

‘Shit..’

#the chemicals between us #Junkrat #Overwatch #meihem #mei ling zhou #fanfic

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golden-deer-dear · 5 years ago

Text

Sing Me to Sleep, Claude x Byleth Fic

Summary: There are fears that keep them both up at night, fears at seem to disappear within the other's presence. So they will cling to each other, taking these small moments to rest.

Notes: So, my birthday is usually not a good day for me, because family and all that. But this year, this fandom, and a particularly wonderful discord server, has already made it a lot better than it usually is. And since I really enjoy giving gifts, I decided I was going to write something on my birthday to thank you guys for just being wonderful. Love you all. Go out and have a good day for me!

Read on AO3.

Sing Me to Sleep

Byleth took a deep breath, tilting her head back to gaze at the stars above. It was catching up to her, the weariness she tried to fight away. Her body felt heavy and slow, making her movements drag. She was going to become a liability in battle if she did not get some rest soon.

But that was another problem all of its own. Byleth sighed, her head dropping back down until her chin touched her chest. Her eyes drifted shut for a split second before snapping back open. No! She could not close her eyes! Not yet at any rate. She needed to find a way to regain her energy without actually needing to sleep.

If only such a thing were actually possible. She sighed for a third time in as many minutes. Even researching the topic was becoming a problem. Every time she tried to read, the words simply swam in her eyes and she could not retain any information.

“That’s a lot of worry you seem to have there, Teach. Want to talk about it?”

Byleth’s head snapped up, and she blinked a few times to clear her vision. Claude stood in front of her, his signature grin on his lips. But it was his eyes she focused on. There was no joy there, only worry. That was the last thing she wanted. She had tried so hard to hide her problems from the rest of her comrades. Claude especially did not need anything extra on his plate right now. He had the Alliance to worry about as well as being one of the leaders in this war. She could not be another thing drawing his attention away from his ambitions.

She shook her head, the movement making her dizzy. She wobbled ever so slightly, trying to grab onto the railing of the bridge in a way that seemed natural. But of course Claude’s sharp eyes tracked the movement, and the smile fell from his face. Still, she tried. “I’m all right, Claude. You should go get some rest.”

“I can say the same to you, my friend,” Claude shot back. He stepped up to her, crossing the distance so fast Byleth’s tired mind did not realize he had even moved until his hand was on her elbow, giving her another branch of support. She took it instinctively, leaning into his touch and fighting the urge to simply fall.

"Come on," Claude urged gently, one arm wrapping around her shoulders as he tried to guide her away from the bridge. "Let's get you back to the dorms."

"No!" Byleth protested vehemently. She ripped herself away from him, staggering as her body fought once more to stand on its own. Her fingers tore at the stone of the bridge as she grasped her new support, breaking a few nails in the process. "No, I'll be fine, Claude," she said, breath still coming in heaving gasps and doing nothing to reassure either of them.

Claude wore open worry on his face for the briefest of moments, gone so quickly Byleth was surprised she was able to catch it flash through his eyes. "Come on," he repeated. "This isn't doing you any good. Tell me what's wrong." He moved toward her again, slipping his arm around her shoulders once more, all the while watching for another sign of protest dictating he should move away. "Let me help, Teach."

Byleth shivered as his warmth settled around her, clashing with the chill of the night air she had lingered in for so long now. She did not want to tell him. She had not wanted to tell anyone, for there were larger concerns to address than her own fears. For that was what it was, fear that kept her eyes open when the moon had long lingered overhead. And yet, the words poured out of her, her mind too tired to protest or lie, giving up the fight in the face of Claude's genuine concern.

"I'm scared to close my eyes," she finally admitted, speaking the words that had haunted her ever since she woke to find the world so changed. "What if I sleep for another five years? What if I leave you all again, and this time when I wake you aren't there? What if I sleep even longer this time, and wake up to only dust and ruins? I'm so afraid I won't wake up. Every time my eyes close this tightness grips my chest and keeps me from breathing."

Claude's arm tightened around her, drawing her even closer to his side. And that was dangerous. He was so warm and comfortable Byleth could feel her eyes growing heavy with every step they took.

Her eyes shot back open, realizing only now they had left the bridge and were almost past the officer's academy. Her breathing quickened, knowing it would not be long before they reached the dorms, before they reached her room. She turned, exhaustion transforming her into a panicked animal as she attempted to flee.

But Claude held her close, unwilling to let her go a second time. "Teach, it's okay," he tried to reassure her, his voice soft and low. "You're going to wake up this time, I promise. I'm going to be beside you all night, and in the morning if you don't wake up on your own, I'll wake you up myself. And then those pretty green eyes of yours can watch the sun come up with me, and we'll actually get you some breakfast for once." He ended his words with a light laugh, his hand squeezing her shoulder.

Byleth mulled it over, turning his words in her mind as she attempted to process any of it. By the time they reached her room, her tired brain had grasped onto his promises, desperate for any sort of relief. “You’ll stay?”

“Of course.”

Claude opened the door to her small room, guiding her to the bed in a twirl. Byleth felt for that brief moment she was in a dance, Claude spinning her away before he would pull her back into his arms. But he didn’t bring her back, much to Byleth's surprised disappointment. Byleth’s legs hit the bed and she sank onto it, her eyes struggling to stay open. She needed this so much, but it had frightened her.

But Claude had promised, so things were different now.

Claude knelt before her and began to remove her boots. Byleth was very glad for the darkness in the room hiding her suddenly heated cheeks. His hands were sunlight, even through her tights. It was intimate, but in the way one friend cared for another, absolutely nothing more than that. (Byleth was very much lying to herself in that instant.) It was over in the span of a heartbeat, Claude standing and easing off her coat before guiding her down onto the bed.

Somehow he got her under the covers, tucking her in tight. A memory, almost as old as her, surfaced in her mind. Her father stood over her, his face stern as he brushed the face from her face. Go back to sleep, kid. Those nightmares can’t hurt you.

Byleth blinked, the vision of Jeralt fading back into her memories. Claude removed his own cloak, slinging it over the back of her chair before settling himself in. She watched as he crossed his arms in front of him, his chin resting against his chest.

“Claude?”

His brows raised without his eyes opening. “You’re supposed to be sleeping, Teach.”

Byleth ignored him. “Are you really going to sleep in that chair? It can’t be comfortable.”

There was enough moonlight filtering in through her small window that she could see Claude smirk, the kind that would reach his eyes if they were open. “Not the worst place I’ve ever slept before, my friend. Now, do me a favor and sleep before you cause my poor heart to ache.”

She wanted to. Every bit of her body screamed for rest, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Looking at him made her chest feel funny. It had ever since she walked back up those stairs and he had greeter her as if she had not left for five years. He was precious to her, she knew that much, but all her Deer were important. Why did it feel so different with Claude?

A low hum caught her ears, cutting off that confusing train of thought. The melody chased it all away, every doubt and uncertainty. And then he opened his mouth, Claude’s low voice singing in an unfamiliar language, but it didn’t matter that she could not understand. It made her smile all the same. It was gentle and sweet, like the wind in the leaves or a river in summer. It was right.

Byleth finally allowed her eyes to fall shut, Claude’s voice an echo chasing away her fear.

Claude knew he was being ridiculous. He knew his current anxiety was all just a part of his own imagination. Still, it did not stop his feet from finding their way to her door. He stood still as a statue, looking like a complete fool with his hand hanging inches in front of the wooden barrier, unable to bring himself to knock.

“Claude?” Her voice was low with exhaustion, a lilting quality to the question.

His hand moved to the back of his head, gloved fingers running through his hair as he turned to face her. “Hey, Teach!” he greeted, voice too high and smile too wide to fool her.

Byleth stood there for a long minute, silence stretching on a thin string between them while her green eyes when through him, her gaze piercing him like an arrow through muscle rendering him unable to move. Claude felt he could not even breathe until she broke the sudden thickness in the air by stepping forward. Byleth worked her way past him, opening the door and motioning for him to follow.

Claude breathed deeply when he stepped into the room, lingering in the doorway to allow himself time to take it all in. Lavender from the fresh flowers on her desk combined with the smell of oils used to clean weapons and fresh linens, giving the place a smell that was uniquely Byleth. He briefly wondered which of the girls had picked flowers for her this morning. He knew Marianne, Mercedes, and Lysithea rotated the daily gesture between themselves. (Annette was gently encouraged out of the rotation after breaking a fifth vase.)

It was a reminder that she was there, that she had come back and Claude wasn’t in some waking dream where she would disappear again. He couldn’t handle that. No, he had spent five long years hoping, working through and finally realizing why his heart ached every time he thought of her. He could not lose her again.

“Claude?”

Claude blinked, breaking himself out of his stupor and silently cursing himself for not paying attention. From the concern in Byleth’s eyes he knew it was not the first time she had called his name. “Ah, sorry Teach. Must be more tired than I realized.” Claude tried to laugh it off, rubbing the back of his head again. He knew it would not fool her. Byleth always seemed to see right through him.

“Would you like to sleep with me tonight?”

She asked it casually, like she was commenting on troop movement rather than inviting him to something more intimate. Claude felt himself freeze, wide eyes staring at her as his heart tried to pound its way out of his chest. Of course he wanted to. He wanted it more than anything. For Byleth to be his lover, to hold her in his arms in a way no one else ever would. Claude wanted it as much as he wanted to unite the world together.

Something in his face must have given away his thought process. A light blush made its way across Byleth’s cheeks, just visible in the moonlight. She held his gaze, but her eyes filled with uncertainty. “I meant on the bed.” She flinched ever so slightly, seeming to realize her words only further served to muddy the situation. “I...I haven’t been sleeping well, not since the last time you were here. I wanted to ask you to stay, but I’d hate for you to sleep in the chair all night again.”

“Ah,” Claude said on the exhale of a sigh, using the moment to gather his thoughts. “I don’t mind.”

Byleth cut him off with a sharp look. “I do. I saw the way you were rubbing your neck the next day. I’m not about to have you in pain when there’s enough room here for us both.”

Byleth removed her coat and tossed it over the back of her chair. Her boots and armor pieces followed next, leaving Claude flushed as he watched her strip. He breathed deeply through his nose and forced himself to look away when she began to remove her top. Byleth apparently had zero qualms about propriety, a sentiment Claude would usually share, but under the circumstances it felt like a violation.

He did not raise his head again until he heard Byleth throw the covers back. She wore only a pair of sleeping shorts and a loose top, but the sight of her in the moonlight sent his heart beating fiercely.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want,” Byleth assured him, but there was a lost look in her eyes that broke Claude’s resolve.

He stepped forward, quick fingers removing his overcoat and cravat. The sash with its woolen poms came off as well before Claude settled himself on the edge of the bed. He used the long moments he took toeing off his boots to steel his mind, before flipping over dramatically to face Byleth. She shook her head, snuggling her cheek into her pillow, but her eyes sparked with joy.

There was enough room that they were close without touching, but he could feel the heat of her body. The scent of her invaded his nose as he repositioned head on the pillow. “Better, my friend?”

“Yes,” Byleth said, straightforward as always. “Thank you.”

Claude watched, mesmerized as her fingers toyed with the edge of the covers. Her eyelids drooped, but for whatever reason he could see she was fighting to stay awake a little longer. “What is it?” he whispered, fighting the urge to reach out for her hand.

Byleth drew in a deep breath before she answered. “That song you sang last time. Could you sing it again?”

A brilliant grin spread across Claude’s face, making Byleth flush and bury her face in her pillow. It was adorable how unafraid she had been to ask him to sleep with her, but this request made her hesitate.

Claude opened his mouth, unable to deny her request. His low voice filled the room with the simple melody, stumbling only for a moment when Byleth finally closed her eyes.

Oh the stars above

Shine to light my way

Light my way

Back to you

Sleep well

Sleep tight

Oh precious one

For when you wake

And the stars have said their goodbyes

I shall be at your side

And your smile

Oh it shall light my way

In their stead

“Those aren’t the same words you sang before,” Byleth whispered when the last notes faded, her voice low as she fought off sleep a moment longer.

“No,” Claude admitted, unable to help himself from leaning in closer to her. He was smart enough to know there was no point in denying it. “They weren’t.”

Byleth hummed lightly, unconsciously snuggling closer to Claude’s warmth. “Claude, you promise to wake me up again, right?”

“Of course,” he responded immediately. He did not know what made him continue, again being so reckless with his secrets. It was as if her mere presence was intoxicating him, loosening his tongue easier than any drink. “Just promise you’ll be here in return.”

Byleth’s eyes flashed open, suddenly awake and aware. Realization stirred something in those mint green depths. She reached out, entangling their fingers together beneath the covers. “Promise.”

Byleth watched in horror as Claude once more spiraled downward. But this time his body did not land in a broken and bloody heap. This time, the wyvern had enough time to right itself before it crashed into the earth. The impact threw Claude from the saddle, but she saw him roll onto his side and moan.

Byleth stumbled toward him, blood flowing from her nose and filling her mouth. She did not have another divine pulse in her. She would not have been able to save him if she had failed this time. She could not lose him. She needed to make sure, needed to see that stupid smug grin of his to know he was all right.

“Hey, Teach,” Claude groaned through bloodied teeth when she reached his side. “You look terrible.”

Relief surged through her, and Byleth dropped to her knees beside him. The battle was coming to a close, and there were others capable of cleaning up. Right now, she could not bring herself to be anywhere but here. “I can say the same to you.”

Claude grinned, wincing in pain when he tried to sit up. He dropped back heavily, breathing raggedly. And yet that grin stayed in place. “Are you saying you don’t find my rugged good looks appealing? I’m hurt.”

Byleth ignored him, pulling magic to her fingertips to pour what little white magic she knew into his body, a desperate attempt to ease his wounds. She felt herself wavering, fighting to keep herself upright. She should stop, she knew she should, but the sight of Claude unmoving before her filled her mind. Despite the man himself joking in front of her, the thought of him broken and ruined refused to let go.

“Hey!” She heard him call out to her, but it sounded very far away. “Hey!” This time he grabbed her hand. Byleth gasped softly as she was pulled down beside him, Claude clutching her to his chest. “You’re going to overdo it there, my friend.”

She buried her face against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat loud and reassuring. It was what she needed to break her out of her fervor. Byleth crumbled silently, shivering in Claude’s arms as she fought through emotion after emotion trying to overwhelm her. Claude didn’t complain. He held her tight, giving her the time she needed.

“Hey, I just realized something,” Claude said lightly once she lay still in his arms. There was still a hint of pain in his voice, but his breathing sounded almost normal again. “You’re on the wrong side of the bed.”

Byleth blinked, taking a moment to process what he meant before realizing that she was indeed lying on the opposite side of him than she usually did when they shared a bed. Byleth’s face scrunched in displeasure. It felt odd, not wrong but slightly off, but she was too tired to care. She snuggled back against Claude, letting her eyes fall shut.

Before she drifted off, she could have sworn she felt his lips press against the top of her head. “Me too, By. Me too.”

She did not know how long she managed to sleep before Hilda’s squeal of joy woke them, but it was definitely not long enough.

Claude was so happy his heart could burst. The sun was setting, the last of its rays clinging in Byleth’s hair, just as Claude clung to her. She sat curled in his lap, comfortable in each other’s presence and basking in the glow of their shared feelings. Byleth hummed contentedly as she repositioned herself, leaning her head back against his chest to listen to his heart.

The offensive organ beat faster, betraying his eagerness to her. “Are you sure it’s supposed to do that?” Byleth asked, a concerned frown on her face.

Claude chuckled, low and heavy, relishing the way it made her shiver. “Yes By, I’m sure. It’s because you make me happy.”

“That doesn’t seem very convenient,” she countered. And yet she kept her head in place, listening to the steady rhythm.

The last of the sun’s light finally vanished behind the mountains, and the stones around them quickly grew cold. Claude sighed and stretched his legs. What he would have to do now would be among the hardest things he’d ever have to do in his life. “I need to go,” he said softly, kissing the top of Byleth’s head.

Byleth sighed unhappily and lifted her head. She remained curled in his lap, her hand rising to cup his cheek and guide him in for a kiss. The metal of her ring was already warm from her hands, and the feel of it sent another jolt of happiness through him.

Their kiss was sweet, a reminder of love against the other’s lips, a need to imprint the memory of their touch against the other. The hungry desperation of their first kiss hours ago had mellowed into a more subtle longing. This would be the last time they held each other in who knew how long, and they each needed for the moment to last.

“I’ll be back,” Claude promised again, whispering the words against her lips.

“I know,” Byleth answered back simply, her trust in him unshakable. And that was something Claude could not linger on. He was having a hard enough time as it was.

“You’ll take care of yourself, right? You’ll be able to sleep?” he added, clarifying what most worried him.

Byleth’s smile was so warm, her eyes full of so much love, Claude came very close to saying screw Almyra and never even entertaining the thought of leaving her side again. “I’ll be fine, Claude,” she reassured him. Her other hand reached up, framing his face with her small sword calloused hands. “I have your ring with me now. I know you’ll come back for me, so I’m not worried. Of course,” she drawled, mischief finding its way into her smile, “I’d much rather your warmth beside me, so don’t take too long.”

Claude flushed, feeling the heat of his blush all the way to the top of his ears. “That was too adorable.”

Byleth’s nose scrunched, that barely there tick of annoyance when she was mildly displeased. It just made Claude laugh and pull her tight against him once more. “I won’t be long. If anyone attempts to delay my return to you, they’ll have a very unpleasant time of it.”

Byleth’s breathy laugh made his heart do that moronic swelling of a fool too much in love for his own good. He would cling to his memories of her, to this moment. Nothing would motivate him more than the thought of once more cuddling into the same bed as Byleth, sharing her warmth as they intertwined with one another.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I tried to get that song to format correctly, but ugh tumblr.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #claudeth #claude x byleth #claudeleth #claude von riegan #byleth #my fic #fanfic #one shot

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lordsister · 6 years ago

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Promise To Listen (Jumin Han x Reader)

A/N: This was a request from @bat-yo-us! Enjoy!^^

I do not own Mystic Messenger or any of its characters.

"Jumin, please! I can't stand seeing you like this!" Grasping your husband's arm before he could completely turn away from you, your concerned plea fell on annoyed ears.

The male in question sighed, a steady throb growing in his temple. He was already so exhausted as it was and another argument with you over how much he was working was the last thing he needed at this point. "What would you have me do, (y/n)? Drop everything at such an important point to waste time with you?" Lost as he was in his own anger, Jumin didn't even register the words coming out of his mouth, turning to you with a harsh expression, unsympathetic of the hurt his thoughtless words caused. "Is that what you want from me? To neglect everything my family has worked so hard to build?"

"Jumin, you know that's not it at all! How could you say that?" You fought to control the pressure rising in your throat, knowing tears would only make matters worse. "Can't you see that I'm only worried about you? You come home so late and leave so early, you barely get any sleep! You're overworking yourself and it's hurting me to watch it happen! You have plenty of employees who can handle this for you or at the very least take some of the load! If you keep this up any longer you're going to destroy yourself and then what?" Jumin said nothing, his face turned away from yours, and you clutched his arm tighter. In an echo of the harsh words he'd spoken to you before, you asked, "What would you have me do, Jumin? Watch as the man I love kills himself?"

Something cold flashed in his steely gaze and he tore his arm from your grip. "You don't understand a thing, (y/n). This is bigger than me and if it requires all of my time and energy then so be it."

Your heart dropped like a stone as you desperately tried to reach out to him again. "Jumin, no-"

"If you can't understand the simple facts of the world I live in then I shouldn't have married you in the first place."

And with that he turned and left, leaving your heart shattered at your feet.

As you sobbed and cursed him, burying your face into a pillow, Jumin held his head in his hands at the same time, ruffling his dark hair and sick to his stomach with regret. His distress didn't go unnoticed as Driver Kim glanced at him in the rear view mirror.

"Sir, is everything alright? Do we need to turn back?"

Taking deep breaths to compose himself, Jumin shook his head. "No. Everything's fine. Keep going." Leaning back in his seat, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on something other than the image of your heartbroken face seared into his mind. Even if he did turn back there was no way you would want to see him right now. Not after what he had said to you.

No matter how much he didn't mean it.

Opening his eyes and looking forward, Jumin squared his shoulders for what awaited him at work, focusing on the now. Later though, he would kneel at your feet and beg for forgiveness. Offer his heart on a silver platter. Do whatever it took to regain your love, because he knew he couldn't live without it.

As the wealthy heir's car continued toward C&R, it passed a well-dressed figure on the street, an individual who appeared to be just like all the other street-goers, completely normal...but whose intentions were most certainly not.

Sitting up from the bed, you sniffled and rubbed your swollen eyes. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, you saw that a couple of hours had passed since your fight with Jumin, having thrown yourself onto the bed and cried your eyes out before falling asleep from the emotional exhaustion. Upon waking up however, you realized you didn't feel rested or the least bit better about what had happened. No, you felt unsettled to your core. Sleep had brought a strange dream, but you couldn't quite remember what it was about, only that you had been looking for Jumin and no matter where you looked or how loud you called for him, you couldn't find him.

Climbing off the bed, you took a moment to fix your hair and disheveled clothing before heading for the door. By all means, you were still mad at Jumin and deeply hurt over what he had said to you, but the only way the two of you could fix this mess was by talking it out and making amends.

And something deep inside was telling you that it absolutely could not wait.

If there was one thing that actually went well in Jumin's day it was this.

Recently, C&R had had the opportunity to buy out a smaller fledgling company in the same industry. Though this other company posed no real threat, it was still surprisingly prosperous for its size and early state so Jumin had given the okay after careful consideration to begin the process of buying it. When he walked in this morning, Jaehee already had the report ready for him to look at, notifying him that everything was going smoothly.

If she saw the bitterness on his face, she didn't say anything, sticking to her job while he stuck to his.

The male in question was currently sitting at his desk, separating his father's ridiculous business ideas from the work that actually mattered. He didn't look up when a soft knock sounded at his door, answering with a simple "Come in." A moment passed without the door opening and Jumin lifted a brow. Before he could get up however, the knob turned slowly and the door finally opened, admitting the last person he expected to see right now.

"Mr. Han, (y/n) is here to see you," he faintly heard Jaehee say, but he was too focused on you, on the way you appeared to want to hide behind his assistant, the way you reached up to awkwardly tuck a lock of stray hair behind your ear before meeting his gaze. Your eyes exuded hurt, piercing Jumin to the most vulnerable parts of his heart, but there was a tentative hopefulness in your pools of (e/c) as well, something bright mixed in with the bitter.

He saw your chest rise and fall as you took a deep breath before walking into his office, looking him straight in the eye as you did so. The door closed and you and he were left alone to face what had occurred that morning, a battle of wills at work as both your heart and his longed for the other to listen, to understand.

Clearing his throat, Jumin was the first to break the silence. "Why are you here?" It came out gruffer than he had intended, making your jaw clench in lingering anger.

"I...We need to talk, Jumin."

"Can it wait until I-"

"No, it can't."

He blinked, surprised at the force in your tone, and his own defiance and stubbornness reared up in response. "Well, it'll have to. As you can see, I'm very busy. I don't have time for this right now."

Your eyes flashed. "Don't have time for us? I'm your wife, for god's sake, Jumin."

Sighing, he rose from his desk but didn't approach you, instead opting to straighten his tie and walk over to the floor to ceiling windows to look out over the city. "You know that's not what I meant," he murmured, tired.

"That's certainly what it sounded like this morning," you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest.

"(Y/n), this morning was bad and I truly regret what I said, but you have to understand-"

Your foot stomped the ground, silencing him. "No, Jumin! Don't start that with me again!" Striding to his side, you reached up to tilt his face to look at you, your hand gentle on his cheek. "Listen to me, will you?" you nearly begged. "I love you so much, Jumin. More than anything in this world. And to see you working yourself to death pains me more than you know." Tears welled and shimmered in your eyes, keeping him silent. "I feel so helpless watching you hurt yourself and not being able to do anything about it. Put yourself in my shoes. It scares you when I overwork myself planning the RFA parties, right? Well, that's exactly how I feel now, so please..." The hand that wasn't on his cheek grasped his own hand tightly. "Please, let me-"

A sudden commotion from outside his office made you stop mid-sentence, your combined attention drawn to the door as it burst open...an individual he didn't recognize pulling something metal and shining from a hidden pocket inside his blazer...you moving in front of him just as he reached to pull you behind him...and a very distinct bang before Jumin's world turned red and shattered into a million pieces.

For a few heartbeats he failed to acknowledge what had just happened, his arms automatically wrapping around you as you sunk to the ground, a red patch quickly blooming on your abdomen. Your stunned expression matched his as you looked up at him, a pained cry forming on your lips. Security guards tackled the armed intruder to the ground and someone was yelling that an ambulance was on the way, but Jumin wasn't listening, too busy holding you in a protective embrace that had come too late as reality quickly sank in.

"Jumin..." you said weakly, reaching for his him. "Help...it hurts..."

His hand grasped yours tight and he pressed a hard kiss to your forehead, breathing in your scent as he rocked you in his arms. "It's okay, (y/n). It's all going to be okay. You're going to be alright," he said, trying to convince both you and himself. "An ambulance is coming. You're going to be fine. I promise."

The next few minutes felt like hours and passed in a hazy, adrenaline-filled blur as he repeated the same words. Holding you tight, he pressed his balled up suit jacket to the wound in your stomach, trying to staunch the flow of blood until the paramedics arrived to rush you away. Even then, Jumin didn't let you out of his sight, demanding that he be allowed to ride in the ambulance with you.

When you were rushed into surgery, leaving him to wait helplessly, he broke down and cried, slumping into a chair and burying his face in his hands as sobs and desperate prayers wracked his body. The rest of the RFA was quick to arrive and were nothing less than shocked at how they found him, his hands and usually pristine white button-up stained with blood, his hair disheveled, and his face streaked with tears. They tried to assure him that you would be fine, letting him know that your shooter, the crazed CEO of the company C&R was buying out, was in police custody, but their attempts at comfort were met with silence as he ignored them, too focused on all the ways he had failed you.

As the hours passed with no word as to your condition, his fears only grew. The horrible words he'd spoken to you that morning echoed cruelly in his mind and his anguish rose at the thought that those would be the last words he ever spoke to you, the words of an unsympathetic husband who refused to listen.

"Mr. Han?" Jumin's head shot up at the unfamiliar voice, startling the nurse standing in front of him. "Your wife is out of surgery now. She lost a lot of blood, but her condition's stable. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to her room."

Without a word he rose to follow, leaving the rest of the RFA waiting. Later, he would appreciate them recognizing his need to be alone with you, but for now his attention was elsewhere, scared to hope that you were actually okay. When he reached the door of your room and the nurse left, Jumin didn't have a clue about how he should face you, but he couldn't handle not seeing you for a single second more. Grasping the door handle, he pushed it open and the breath he'd been holding escaped in a rush.

You were okay. Well, okay as you could be after being shot, but you were alive, and Jumin felt his tears rising once more.

"Jumin," you called to him softly, lifting a weak hand. He was at your side in an instant, both of his hands holding yours as he sunk to his knees on the floor next to your bed and pressed your hand to his face.

"(Y/n), I'm so sorry," he choked, shoulders quaking.

"Shhh..." It was too painful for you to move, but you did your best to convey your love for him through the tightening of your hand in his. "This wasn't your fault, my love. I was the one who jumped in front of the bullet."

"I almost lost you," he sobbed. "I was so awful to you this morning and then I almost lost you."

"Jumin, you couldn't have known this would happen." Muffling a pained groan, you reached forward with your free hand to run your fingers through his hair, bringing him closer to you. "Will you listen to me now? Will you take a break from work?" you said, trying for lightheartedness, half joking, half serious.

"Yes. Yes, I promise I'll always listen to you from now on. I'll try to understand as I always should have."

You smiled, the gesture brightening your pale face. "We still have more to talk about later, but I'll hold you to that promise." Leaning forward, you kissed his head softly. "I love you, Jumin."

His tear-reddened, loving eyes met yours as his hands moved to cup your face. "I love you, too. I promise I'll be better next time."

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halfwayinlight · 5 years ago

Text

Well, I fell into a space hole known as Star Trek The Next Generation planning to enjoy some light entertainment. And I fell HARD for Troi/Riker. This came out of 1.22 “The Skin of Evil.” I’m so soft for these two.

Title: In Memoriam Rating: PG Pairing: Deanna Troi / William Riker

Will Riker has never seen her like this before. They’ve been through so much—together as the two of them, and the whole crew—but she hasn’t been through anything like this. Not alone. He had barely extricated himself from Dr. Crusher to meet Deanna on the holodeck.

She was pale and shaken, he could see it on her face. The angry red mark on the side of her cheek only served to enhance her pallor. He wouldn’t describe himself as anything beyond moderately intuitive. Years in the fleet had improved the modest amount nature had given him. But even he knew, simply by looking at her, that he didn’t need to tell her about Lieutenant Yar.

There were no words, merely Will crossing the distance along with several techs as they lifted the injured pilot and took the entire party back to sick bay. It was clear the techs could handle the pilot. And even if it wasn’t a long walk, his arm instinctively reached out, and she limped forward for a moment before he lifted her and followed the techs and to sick bay.

Imzadi, he thought, and he felt Deanna tremble even as she shook her head slightly. It wasn’t time for this. Not yet. They were guided to another exam area where he sat her on the nearest table before settling down beside her. They were both due for a full check over, but he was staying with until the tech was urging him to return to his own medical scan on a separate bed.

This part became routine from Dr. Crusher’s assistant while she examined the pilot. There were protocols to be followed. It involved more scans for Will in the long-run than for either Deanna or the pilot. Hook ups to machines, various readings. In the end, nothing remarkable to show for any of it. But it was Deanna that even the doctor herself was more concerned over when she finally joined them, carefully reading over the results of tests and the report of the assistant who had already administered fluids for her dehydration and alleviated the handfuls of bumps, bruises, and wrenched muscles from the crash.

“Are you going to the memorial ceremony?” Dr. Crusher asked, tone neutral but with enough interest in the answer and her measured look that even Will could catch it.

“It’s important,” was the quiet reply from Deanna as she lay stretched out on the exam table, her left hand tucked into both of Will’s as he chaffed it lightly to warm it up. He thought the warming blanket would do more for that.

Will glanced between the women as the quiet stretched in sick bay. “Is it a bad idea?”

Dr. Crusher shook her head slightly. “I think the counselor is right—it’s important. Commander Riker, I’d like to run a second set of test in a day, only to be on the safe side. I’d keep you for observation under normal circumstances, but there are no indications you are anything other than healthy. Counselor… after the funeral, I’d like you to take a few days of rest before resuming your duties.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Will promised. He wondered if it was simply that the doctor didn’t like Deanna’s color, either, or if there was more. Certainly the doctor would insist on holding either or both of them if she had serious reservations.

She pressed a vial into his hand. “And this. You’ll both sleep soundly.”

Deanna’s face told him that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but she didn’t protest outright. “Thank you,” was her only reply, her perpetual diplomacy rising even after such a long and trying ordeal.

After the short ceremony, Will was certain that they couldn’t reach Deanna’s quarters soon enough because he felt the first two sobs she choked down even before they made it inside the turbolift. The door panel had barely enclosed them before she broke, and Will pulled her to his chest. He knew she could feel his thoughts and concern, but he still focused on how much he hoped no one else would join them in the lift until they made it to the level where they both had quarters. When they finally reached Deck Nine, one arm slid under her shoulders and he bent, the other sliding behind her knees to cradle her close.

Will knew that Deanna was strong, but she’s not used to this. She had a warm childhood with security. She’s known loss. The loss of her father was certainly difficult for her. But the aftershocks of this mission were affecting her much more deeply. It was the build-up of everything. And he immediately resolved to hold it together for the remarkable woman who always the crew back together again and again.

“Almost there,” he murmured, thankful when an engineer down the passageway saw him coming and wisely did an about face into a nearby storage area. He had nearly forgotten how neatly she fit against him, head tucked under his chin.

“It was awful,” she breathed against the crook of his neck. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t get out of my seat. And Ben… there was nothing from him... but everything from you. From Tasha…” Deanna shivered as he stepped into her quarters. He can feel the fear and horror, the grasping for security of some kind.

Will turned the wrong direction at first because her quarters are a mirror of the layout of his. The hand that she reached up to hold his during Tasha’s ceremony curled around the lapel of his uniform as though she was afraid he will dematerialize if she let go. But before he could think about anything else, she tugged insistently at his arm.

“Will… the bin…”

He had barely enough time to snag a small bin press it into her hands before she gagged. But she hadn’t eaten food in at least a day or more, so there was nothing to come up. A visceral reaction, which shouldn’t surprise him. But it left her paler than ever, and he couldn’t help remembering that she was already treated for dehydration once today.

“Should I call Dr. Crusher?”

She shook her head and swallowed hard. “Something to drink, though? Something hydrating?”

At the moment, he’d really rather call the doctor, but he nodded and ordered juice for himself and a mild tea to calm her stomach. It gave her time to struggle out of her boots and remove her communicator and set it on the bedside table beside the vial Crusher had given them earlier. Settling back beside her, he handed over the glass.

He was halfway through his own drink when he nodded toward the table. “How about a chaser?”

Her lip curled in distaste, and it didn’t escape his notice that she had slowed her drinking considerably. She always took her time to consider decisions, but this was clearly stalling. “Will, I dislike taking anything that would alter my thoughts.”

Despite her protest, he could see the strain the ordeal had caused. “I can understand that … but if you were your own patient, you wouldn’t rush to talk. You would urge rest first.”

A frown this time, and she took another sip of her drink. “Tasha’s gone. I felt it. I felt the distress from everyone. And I couldn’t do anything. I could help you. Or Tasha. Or Ben. Or myself.” She swallowed hard.

“You’re exhausted. We both are. I’m worried about you, Deanna. So I’m giving you two choices: sick bay or this.” She had to see, surely she would, that this was the reasonable course. The moment after he thought it, Will couldn’t help but wince when indignant and hurt dark eyes met his. “Let me tuck you in, and then I’ll sleep in the lounge.” His quarters were one room closer to aft than hers, but he wasn’t willing to be even that far away. He drained his own cup and set it back in the synthesizer before moving to pick up the vial and twist off the top. Glancing to her, he downed his half and held it out. “Please?”

She accepted the vial and studied it for a long time.

“Imzadi, remember I can sense your thoughts, too,” he reminded gently.

“It’s very kind of you, but you can’t stay with me all day,” Deanna countered.

“I can for now. The captain’s orders were to see to you. And I’m not medically cleared, yet, so I can stay at the moment.” He moved slowly, reaching down to find some of the pins keeping her thick hair in the twists and plaits.

Deanna lifted the vial and finally took a long drink before screwing on the cap and dully reaching over to set it on the side table along with the growing pile of pins. Strange, she thought, before leaning forward and letting her head rest against his torso.

“Lights to low,” Will spoke, easing out another pin and running his fingers lightly through the twists to unwind them.

“Room to restore mode,” she mumbled, giving a small sigh and giving him more of her weight as the lights went dimmer yet and a soft sound of waves filtered through the quiet. He knew the whole of it was finally hitting her, and it occurred to him as he finally let down the last of her hair that the front of his uniform was damp from her tears.

His hand cupped her head, and he moved slowly enough for her to understand as he eased her to lie down at last. “Sleep now, keep down your tea, and when you wake up we’ll have some chocolate, hmm?”

Her hand found his in the darkness, just as it had during Tasha’s ceremony. “Please stay with me.”

She truly does love freely. It’s her strength, but Will wondered if it’s also weighing her down at the moment. “Of course, Imzadi” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her hand that still cold. His communicator joined hers, but he walked to the other side of the bed before climbing in beside her.

They were still in their uniforms, but he was too tired to care. And he knew she would’ve said something sooner had it truly bothered her. It took some maneuvering to get under the covers. He should’ve pulled them down before he eased her down. Still, it was worth the effort to be stretched out.

Worth it all the more when Deanna shifted closer until her head was resting against his chest. He felt the query, and his arm draped over her back was his answer that it suited him just fine. She’s become quiet now, limp against his chest other than a final shiver. Will gave the blanket a firm tug, bringing it closer around her. She’ll end up hogging the blankets, but he won’t object. His arm wrapped firmer around her upper back, a vague memory floating up about something she mentioned about deep pressure and how it calms some neuro-system or other.

Autonomic and Parasympathetic. The words were slow and drawn out in his mind. It made Will smile a bit to think of the way it would’ve have sounded aloud, mumbled with sleep.

Sssh…I’ll be here when you wake up. Her sigh was her descent into sleep. He felt himself relaxing, too, only the soft waves breaking on a far-away shore to fill the quiet and lull him to his own rest. He would be here with her.

#imzadi #deanna troi #william riker #star trek the next generation #counselor troi #commander riker #star trek tng

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mrdanielbond · 6 years ago

Text

Bond’s New Flatmate (Chpt. 11)

“Don’t move...”

Summary: After recently coming face to face with James and facing the ultimate backlash, you now find yourself in a position of discomfort, anger and a good old broken leg at the hands of the skiing accident. Jonathan tries to comfort you - is this finally the type of comfort you’ve been looking for?

A/N: Again, Jonathan is the man of your choosing! We’re starting to hear more of James and the dear husband, Q! This story does get better, I promise it will!

You woke up hearing muffled voices around you and woke up to seeing a blurry figure beside you. A quick and sharp pain jolted within your leg, which you felt had been hoisted above where it needed to be. Then you turned to your left arm and found it trapped in a cast. ”Ah!” You groaned, catching the two figures by surprise. Soon you could see that one of them was Jonathan.

“Oh my god! Y/N, are you alright?” He was mortified by the sight of the bruises that stained your face and how pale your lips are from how long you must’ve been in the frost. He quickly moved to your side and brought your hand to his lips. Something you didn’t bother to acknowledge as all you could feel had been numbness seeping through you.

“Why the fuck is it so bright? God, can you turn that off?” Your voice was croaky and you were rendered weak, although your words still somehow managed to show that you were tough as nails. Jonathan couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“You took quite a hard fall out there, love. I didn’t think you were going to wake up so soon.” Jonathan said with a small sigh as he turned to the doctor, who spent time checking you.

“Hello Miss, Y/L/N, I’m Dr Hans Bjornsson. Your partner brought you here after a skiing accident. Do you remember anything about it?”

Partner. You hadn’t paid attention to the term but gave a small nod. “I remember being damn good at skiing until that point.” You said with a smirk, causing your friend to helplessly chortle.

“And how do you feel?” The doctor asked.

“I wish I could answer that question, doc but I’m going to be honest with you, I can’t feel a thing in my body. Except as though someone is crushing my head with a rock.”

“We’ll get some anaesthetics for that headache. Also I wanted to let you know that you’ve have fractured your ankle after taking the hard fall and from the temperatures you were in outside, it increased the swelling and has been difficult to get down. Also a couple of your ligaments from your calf have also been fractured on your right leg, hence why it is hanging up. Your arm took some severe damage too as you fractured your wrist but other than that, you’re lucky you didn’t take any worse injuries. It’s not usual that people would wake up so soon from a fall taken such as you’ve taken. I’ll leave you two for a moment and make sure a nurse comes back with the anaesthetics.”

He left you and Jonathan alone in the room together. There was a silence lingering and you could tell that even though Jonathan wanted to make sure you had the rest you needed, he still had questions he needed to ask. He held your hand tighter and interlocked his fingers with yours eventually. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t woken up.”

“How long have I been out for?”

“A little over a day. Again, your fall could’ve put you in a coma. The doctor was right, you were lucky. Really lucky.” He sighed.

“Well I’m sorry I put a whole damper on the holiday for getting too cocky.” You laughed weakly.

“Oh no, this is entirely my fault. I should’ve been watching you from the beginning. This was on me, I promised I’d be there and I wasn’t. That was a really shit thing for me to do.” He frowned, scratching his head. “I can’t believe I made false promises.”

“Jon, I’m going to be fine. It was one little accident. You’re not to blame for any of this. ” You said and before you could continue, you entered a raging coughing fit. Jonathan quickly leaped up to your bedside and stroked your back as you coughed. He then turned around and before you knew it, he had a cup of water in his hand and was helping you drink from it. Simple acts like these, you hadn’t expected him to take on but the more he did, the more you warmed up to him. It was difficult for you to do so, but somehow this man made it easy for you to do so.

“It’s alright. I’m here.” He said with a sigh as he rubbed circles on your arm. Eventually, you gave in and leaned against his shoulder, taking in his scent as you did so. Besides being next to each other on the plane, and the incident at his home where he proposed the idea of going to Geneva, you hadn’t been within such close proximity of him. This was completely different, you weren’t nervous. Just at ease. Soon enough, your eyes started to drift off to the sound of his voice.

“And remember, you cannot take part in any physical activity that could potentially stop the healing process. Your injuries may be severely damaged afterwards if you do so.” The doctor said as he signed the rest of the papers.

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen, doc.” Jonathan stated, which earned him a glare from you. “I’ll be watching her like a hawk this time.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Got it. Don’t move around too much. Jesus, I’m literally going to be trapped inside that room with nothing to do!”

“It’s what’s best for you, Y/N.”

“Mhm. Yep.” You snapped quickly as you picked up your crutches, while Jonathan remained a close distance behind you.

“Jesus christ! Why does it hurt so much?” You groaned as you leaned back into the soft couch. The pain hadn’t subdued at all since you last took painkillers but in fact had gotten progressively worse. You tried to reach for the remote on the coffee table, but even that was a sport.

“Y/N! You’re not supposed to be moving that’s why it hurts. Let me help you.” He quickly said, moving your shoulders back so he could pick up the remote for you.

“You do realise I still have a right hand. Right?”

“Which is useless when you also have a broken leg.” He noted and stepped forward. You saw him drop beside you in a pair of shorts and a t shirt. God - your not so innocent thoughts came creeping in.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be working?

“Your wellbeing matters more to me, Y/N. I don’t want to be a complete twat and leave you here on your own. You deserve to be looked after.” He said with a genuinely serious tone.

“Look I really think you should go out there. I heard you on the phone in the taxi and I can tell you want to get this mission done. I don’t want to stop you.”

“But Y/N, I’d very much rather be here with you, watching crappy television and drinking beer. I’ll even order us a pizza.” He groaned, scratching his head.

“Jon! Go out and do your job otherwise I’ll be the reason you’re sacked!” You reprimanded him, earning a playful whine from his lips. This was your chance to have fun while you were in a miserable position, so you playfully tapped near his ass, urging him to move. “Off you go. Do your job!”

“Alright, alright! But you know we’re not finished here.” He said, pulling you gently to him with a devious smirk. “You’re definitely going to regret sending me away.”

“Good thing I’m literally stuck here while you go out so you don’t have to anticipate me disappearing by the time you get back.” You retorted and leaned away from him. “Now Jon, get up, it’s time for you to go.”

Jonathan returned ten minutes later in black dress trousers, a navy blue sweatshirt and a black leather jacket. His usually untamed hair was styled so it was kept maintained and again, the not so innocent thoughts came creeping in. “I won’t be long.” He said and approached you slowly, then planted a kiss on your head. Something again, you hadn’t expected from him.

“Give me a ring if there’s anything you need and I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

“I won’t need anything because I can do things myself, you know.”

“Don’t you fucking dare move from that couch unless you need the toilet or room service.” His voice had a hint of dominance to it, which made you blush slightly. You hadn’t been used to this side of him, but it was surely something you were going to enjoy testing.

With that, Jonathan was gone and you were left watching a television show in front of you.

Your phone buzzed beside you, causing you to huff deeply at the caller. “Y/N! Thank goodness you’re alive!” The concern from your husband’s voice was clear. “I heard you were involved in an accident.”

“The dead isn’t coming for me yet, I’m fine.” You chuckled.

“No, I know you’re not alright. What are the injuries? Are you alright?”

“Broken right leg, and I’ve fractured my left wrist so it’s in this stupid cast, in this stupid sling.” You groaned.

“Do you want me to come there?”

“Oh no! Don’t - no. I’m fine, everything is completely under control. Please don’t come here.”

Q gave a long sigh, “I wish I could’ve been there to make things less painful for you. I just wish you weren’t so stubborn. When I heard James telling me this-“

“Right.” You chuckled sarcastically.

“What?”

“Nothing. Carry on.” You shrugged, gritting your teeth to the sound of his name.

“Y/N, did he gave anything to do with the accident? I know James and when he wants something, he goes in full force for it without considering the consequences.”

“Nah, I didn’t even know he was there and to be honest, I don’t really care.”

There was a pause and you can tell Q was contemplating something. “Y/N, I feel badly about how I left you in a time of need.”

“It’s not your fault. Alright? At least I had money to fall back on.”

“I know but now all this has happened. You’re injured and - Bond’s gone rogue. He’s not answering his calls and pulled off his tracker, he was supposed to attend a meeting between Nikolaj Altherr and get a feel of potential terror threats around the room but when he told me he saw you cycling with a friend - he simply cut off all ties with us.”

“Huh. That’s funny. Again, I don’t really care about him.”

“Are you and this friend - are you two-?”

“Going out? No.” You could almost hear the worry in his voice on the other end of the line. “Unlike James, I actually know how to keep friends of the opposite gender without any sexual experiences with them. I’m not even thinking about jumping into anything right now.” Although you felt slightly bad for saying such as Jonathan made you feel differently.

“Right.” You could’ve sworn you heard a sigh of relief. “When this holiday of yours is over, I was thinking- maybe we can go for a drink. Catch up properly, somewhere nice and no James Bond to ruin it.”

It was a friendly offer and after all Q had been there to check up on you when Jonathan hadn’t been. “Alright. Although it’ll have to be a little while after I return. I plan on working relentlessly to get something in my bank account that isn’t just a drain sucking all the money out.”

Q chuckled and with that you had a small smile on your face. “Please, take care of yourself Y/N. I only want what’s best so lay off the heavy work. Take care of yourself. Alright? Are you at home?”

“No, I’m still in Geneva but I’m stuck inside the hotel.”

“Good. I want you to make sure you take care of yourself.” He said, seriously.

“I’ll try to.” You laughed nervously and ended the call.

You spent a few minutes trying to put two and two together with your conversation. Q had never asked you out in an intimate setting since you last saw each other in Oxford...you silently prayed he didn’t have those feelings return once again. And James going rogue over you? What the hell was that about? But he was in Geneva...and Jonathan mentioned needing to detain a rogue agent in Geneva. Uh oh.

Hours past by and as much as you were enjoying the cosy room, with a fireplace before you and beautiful view of the city and mountains behind, you were getting bored. Your room was large enough to have a kitchen on the other end, and you were sure there was nothing in it. So you pulled yourself up after five minutes and dragged yourself to the door. Gosh it was a challenge, even trying to open the door with one hand.

Just as you did, you grinned to your satisfaction when you bumped into something hard. Then the smell of pizza drifted towards you along with Jonathan’s scent.

“Fucking kidding me?” You whispered.

“Kidding? I don’t think so. Where do you think you’re going Miss Y/L/N?” Jonathan’s accent got to you quickly and guilt seeped it’s way into you. You could even hear him smirking as he said so.

“There’s a bar downstairs right?” You said, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Yes but you’re not going there.”

“But I’m bored! I’ve been stuck in there and if I watch another episode of countdown I am going to lose my shit! Can’t I just see something?”

“Not now. You only just got discharged today!” He said with a frown and moved to your ear, “Now what did I tell you about moving from that couch? You’re going to go back inside or else this pizza is not going anywhere near you.”

Even when he spoke about food, butterflies swarmed your stomach. His voice was incredibly low and it was incredibly hot. But he also knew that you would have been super hungry by now, which you admired him for being able to detect.

Soon, you gave up and hobbled back inside, while Jonathan places his arm on the small of your back, directing you inside. “I hate you...” you mumbled.

“Darling, you like the idea of hating me.” He smirked and dropped the boxes of pizza on the counter. “I’m going to change and I mean it this time, don’t move or I’ll handcuff you to the chair myself.”

Your eyes quickly widened to the sound of that, “Wait a minute - you carry handcuffs with you?”

“I’m practically a police officer for agents, of course I carry handcuffs with me.”

“I’m not too sure that’s the only reason you carry them with you…” It was bold enough for you to say, but you only managed to get a chuckle from him and no other answer. For a moment you smirked to the sound of that but then blushed when you realised...he hadn’t given you a definitive answer.

Jonathan returned in his shorts and white t shirt, which you could die for, “How do you feel now?” He asked as he entered the front room. He saw you sat back on the couch with your leg up and you appeared miserable. He poured you both a glass of Ben Nevis and handed you your pizza as it was going to be a struggle to reach.

“Shit is an understatement.” You groaned as you started eating your pizza.

“I’m really sorry.” He said frowning. “I should’ve been there and I promised you I would be.”

“Nah. It’s not your fault, again I was reckless...I got carried away.”

“Do you want anything else?” He said, casually rubbing your uninjured knee from time to time.

“Can you fix my leg?”

“That I cannot do, if I had the power to I’d have done that the moment I found you. I don’t think this was all down to recklessness. You’re a lot smarter than that.” He stated, “Do you remember what happened?”

“I don’t know. I finished my break, then...” Your breath hitched. Jonathan snapped his head to you, noticing you stop.

“What else happened?”

“I got really into it and just happened to go too fast. That’s all. Then everything went black only when I realised I was going too fast.”

“Mhm.” He places his fingers beneath your chin and turned you to him. His eyes bore into yours and you felt as though you couldn’t move under his gaze. “You know when I was out I thought you were going to do something like this. Leave the suite to go to the bar.”

“You know me too well.” You smirked. Soon he moved his hand back onto the pizza. “So uh, did you manage to catch him?”

“No. Unfortunately not. Weirdly, his last sighting was at the same ski resort as us on the day of your accident. Y/N...” he knew already the sigh of defeat. “The rogue agent I need to detain is one Agent 007. And I’m only telling you this because. I recently found out his name is...”

“James Bond. He was my flatmate. I know. I put two and two together this afternoon.”

You placed your pizza on the table and leant back letting out another long sigh. Jonathan instinctively placed his arm around yours and pulled you to his chest, where he kissed the top of your head. “You don’t have to tell me what happened now, I can wait but in due time I hope we can trust each other enough to tell each other things.”

“Mhm.” You absentmindedly said. After a few minutes of silence, Jonathan was the first to speak. “Two brothers.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve got two brothers and I’m the middle child. Apparently I was the most dramatic of us three but I’d say my youngest brother was the biggest drama queen.”

You smiled slightly, finally there were things he wanted to say. “I can’t imagine anyone else being more dramatic than you.”

“Well, my family is like walking into a full on pantomime sometimes.” He laughed, “I haven’t seen much of them since I returned from Afghanistan as that was when I was recruited by a branch of the MI6 to help control field operatives that potentially may harm the preservation of life or the mission itself.”

You snuggled closer to him as he spoke. “Well I went to Oxford, studied medical forensics and did my PhD there so there’s nothing as fascinating as yours.”

“Wait so you’re a doctor?”

“Yeah I don’t know how I managed to get there. To be fair, I went to awful schools all my life until Oxford. Lived on a council estate with my family it wasn’t fun but there was always something to hold onto for the future. You know?”

“I understand. You know, I had an inkling that you would be a remarkable woman. That there’s so much more to you than what meets the eye.”

“I know how to make some quality homemade dishes and a mean homemade burger if you’re looking to wife me as well. Over six years in university does wonders.” You winked, looking up at the stubble that started to grow into something more, which tickled.

“What? Can I wife you now? I’ve been meaning to have someone to share a cookbook with for ages!” The two of you laughed for a while when suddenly Jonathan’s phone rang.

Jonathan picked up his phone, “Hello?” A young woman’s voice was on the other and he quickly moved forward. He turned to you, “Excuse me for one second.”

He rose from his seat and made his way to his room to continue the call. Though you were knackered, you really saw it as time to go to bed, so you hoisted yourself up and hobbled into your room. That bold character seeping in once again. Jonathan returned to find you gone.

“Y/N?” He quickly dashed around the place when he found you in your room, sat on the edge, letting out a long sigh. “Y/N if you need help, that’s what I’m here for! You need to stop moving around like that.”

“I’m fine though. I don’t need help.” You tried to pull off your shirt but struggled in doing so, causing Jonathan to laugh. “Do you need help?”

“Fuck sake.” You huffed, “Fine, help me out then.” You groaned as he grinned making his way towards you. “Don’t worry I won’t look afterwards. If you don’t mind.” He said, pointing to your shirt and at this point you weren’t bothered. Jonathan raised your shirt over, carefully and turned around as you managed to undo your bra. “Can you hand me my night shirt, in the drawer.” He looked into the drawer and pulled out a blue striped night tee, then handed it to you. For a moment you struggled to get your arm through but Jonathan was more than happy to help and even with your jeans, which he managed to undo. He buttoned the shirt, keeping his eyes on yours as he did so, then when he reached the final buttons, he looked down and left two open so your arm had space to move. Simple things like this got to you especially. He helped you turn around and kissed your head before making his way to the door.

“Goodnight.” He said with a small smile. “If you need anything, just call me.”

“Wait. Could you - I figured it would be hard to get you if you’re so far when I need you for something. Uh - would you mind staying here? Or you could go back to your room. It’s cool.” You hid under the covers not bothering to wait for his answer as you knew he was going to say no. The man had to be in a relationship which made this uncomfortable. Suddenly you feel the bed dip and covers raise. “I could never say no to you, Y/N.” You Quickly clenched your fist in the sheet at a sudden pain in your body. Then an arm snaked around your waist reluctantly, “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Thank you - by the way. For the pizza - and telling me about some of your family. I probably didn’t tell you as much as you probably would’ve hoped.”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to. I’ll give you the time and space you need.” He said as he pulled you closer to him. “When you’re ready, you know I’m here.”

You felt a kiss being planted on your cheek and soon your eyes were heavy and you dozed off.

#007 #british #fanfic #daniel craig #james bond #james bond 007 #literature #mi6 #casino royale #fanfiction #tom hiddleston/reader #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #michael fassbender #michael fassbender x reader #james mcavoy x reader #james mcavoy

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unluckycl0v3r · 5 years ago

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Queenie x Reader: A Winter Wonderland

A/N: OH my god, this is probably as late as it could possibly be. I will not spare you any excuses because it honestly does not matter, just know that your request has been deeply appreciated. I loved this request so much and I struggled a lot with this concept, mostly because I haven’t written anything like this before. Plus Queenie is such a complex character to write that it amazes me that I was even able to do this. Despite the fact you may have forgotten this request, or you’re just some stranger looking for some late night reads, I truly hope you enjoy this. BTW, if you don’t know, I started writing this in like July and finished about 90% of it. I have just finished this 10%. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year’s everybody!!

Requested by: @badeeaswife you are a lovely human being I hope you know

Warnings: Mentions of homophobia, mentions of abuse nothing too graphic I don’t even think there’s cursing in this. This is supposed to be a stupid fluffy Christmas story xD. Also the last 10% isn’t edited lol I’m sorry I’m lazy and ig that counts as a warning

Walking into the dining area of the orphanage in which you live and work in, the kids you take care of are a little rowdier and louder than they usually are. A smile was brought to your face when you realize exactly why, the news finally broke out to the kids. Of course, the other staff and head of the orphanage could no longer hold the news.

“Settle down, kids, settle down.” You said softly as you stand in front of the room where everyone could see you. The kids quieted down, a few whispers still lingered but that never bothered you, and their eyes found yours. “Yes, the news is true. This year we will be holding our very own winter formal!” The orphanage was erupted in cheers and your smile brightened, along with the other staff in the room. When the room quieted again, you continued, “We have found the funds to have our own theme for the dance, and found volunteers at a close by no-maj school to come in and help out!” More cheers came from the room and all the hard work you put in the past few months have fully been worth it for this reaction.

A few years ago after growing up your whole life in an orphanage, you decided to invest in your own orphanage to help avoid the abuse you experienced and witnessed. It would be the first orphanage to home kids of magical background. It was a hard investment considering you were a woman, but you weren’t always alone to take care of everything. With your friend William Tran who helped with funds and investments, you found the staff to give your children an education of magic and no-maj lessons you found important, and cooks to give your children meals. At first it started off very small with one or two children you had to take care of with your friend, but it soon turned into a huge facility. The number of children were still relatively small, just around thirty, and throughout all the years you have had no luck in finding much funds to plan fun events for the kids. Though, as your facility grows, you began receiving more funds and even some donations! After some raising some donations and keeping the secret from the kids for months as to not get their hopes up, you were finally able to officially plan a winter formal dance for your kids.

“It is all ages, so even our little ones can come, but only our year 8’s are able to have dates.” You clear up politely and find a table with the staff to finish your breakfast. You made it all ages because you weren’t sure if you were able to do this every year. You wanted to have something special for everybody there. You felt the kids deserved this, especially the older ones.

Being an orphan yourself, you knew the hardships it came from being tossed around from one severely religious orphanage to another. It came with shame and abuse, and you knew once you became smart enough and old enough that you couldn’t let another kid face those same hardships. Especially those with magical abilities such as yourself. So with William Tran, you created your very own safe place for children.

Your orphanage was growing again because the magical school near your home was letting out for winter break and the kids there with no home will be coming back to spend winter break with you. You understand how disappointing it is to come to a place with no family of your own, and feeling left out. You can’t personally get every child a gift of their own, so you thought at the very least you could give them a celebration to remember.

That afternoon, with some volunteers at your orphanage, you and the staff make your way to the no-maj school that has offered up their gymnasium for winter break. Some of the staff greeted you with smiles and hugs that made everyone feel so welcome and they wasted no time taking out their supplies to help with decorations. Somehow decorating was one of the most difficult things of this whole event because it’s the part you wanted to be perfect for the kids.

For hours everyone put up streamers, fairy lights, and props to make the gymnasium feel like the perfect winter formal. By the evening when the sun started to set, it was decided they would continue tomorrow. With the actual dance looming only a week away, you start becoming nervous about it. When you get back to the orphanage, you sit at the desk in your room and start brainstorming what food and drinks to serve there within the budget. You wanted your children to be absolutely spoiled this winter.

The next few days feel like blurs between supervising and putting together the dance. You are pretty much a mess when it’s almost 8 in the evening and it’s completely dark out, starting to snow outside, and you’re still in the gymnasium of the no-maj school when your friend and colleague comes up behind you.

“It’s getting late, (y/n)” He says and you jump in surprise, almost falling from the ladder you were standing on and dropping the decorations you were holding. You blushed in embarrassment from being so startled and get off the latter to collect the items you dropped. Will drops down next to you to help.

“I know, but I’ll stay back just a little longer.” You promise and Will gives you a wry smile.

“You’ve been working non stop for these kids, (Y/N/N). Have you done anything for yourself recently?” You look at him quizzically, not understanding the problem he was concerned with. Sure, you worked hard and long, but you aren’t burnt out yet. Nervous, sure, but not very overwhelmed. Soon over half of your kids will be leaving again for school and you want to give them a break to remember.

“Something for myself? Like what?” It was a rhetorical question, you weren’t actually concerned in what you could be doing for yourself. It was one of the things that were never your concerned with in the first place. But of course what comes with a question will always be followed up with an answer.

“Like… do you know what you’re wearing for this formal you’re spending so much time on preparing?” Will asks, and his handsome face is scrunched up waiting for an answer. He hasn’t shaved his face since yesterday and blonde stubble is coming in on his chin. His hair is combed back and he’s dressed relatively nice. You realize that you actually haven’t thought about what you would wear or your actual involvement in the formal, which was now tomorrow. William saw the panic set into your face as your eyes widened.

“Oh, shoot! I don’t know what to wear!” You shout and begin pacing back and forth from where you stood. Will laughed at your melodramatic attitude and grabbed you by the shoulders to steady you. Your breathing has quickened, and Will desperately hopes you won’t fall into your episodes of hyperventilating.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Will soothes, rubbing his hand along the forearm comfortingly. “I know someone who can help.”

“What? Who?” Your voice is strained and you’re trying not to cry. You focused so much on the event being perfect you forgot to make yourself perfect too. You are the face of this dance. You don’t want people thinking you don’t care about this event just because you weren’t able to get dressed up. But here Will is, stress free and smiling comfortingly.

“Her name is Queenie Goldstein and she’s an old friend of mine. She’s very talented. It’s almost like she can read your mind.” You start to calm down significantly as Will gives you this information.

“What about cost? How much am I having to pay?” Will shakes his head and his smile widens.

“Don’t worry about that.” You begin to argue but he cuts you off. “I’ll call her tonight and she can work on you tomorrow.

“But that’s not enough time!” You say, starting to worry again.

“(Y/N), she’s magic. It’ll be done just in time for the dance.” He assures you and you finally nod in agreement to his plan. Even more reluctantly, he had you clean up and out of the school sooner than you would have liked to. “Everyone will get the dance set up in plenty of time tomorrow.” Then ushers you into his car to drive you home and put you to bed as if you were a toddler. You would be angry, but secretly you liked feeling taken care of like this. You wouldn’t admit it, but he made you feel safe and comfortable. So, that night you slept better than you have all week barely worried for when you had to meet this mysterious woman in the morning.

The next morning you wake up just before dawn as you usually do and continue with your morning routine as usual, the anxiety of meeting this Queenie still in the back of your mind. You’re starting to get antsy, but try not to push Will, you don’t want to seem panicked like yesterday. Finally, after waking up at the kids in the morning and serving them breakfast, Will comes up to you with the same easygoing smile he always carries.

“Queenie is ready to see you.” He informs, slipping you a piece of paper with her address on it.

“Now?” You ask as if you haven’t been waiting for this all morning and were inconvenienced.

“Hurry along, she’s a busy woman.” He winks at you and sits back at his table to finish breakfast. You try not rush your eating since you try to be an example for the kids, but you can’t help it when you end breakfast just a few minutes early and usher the kids to their usual chore schedule. Of course, you let them off early to prepare the dance and assigned certain staff to watch over certain kids, so it wasn’t a problem that you up and left everyone. Plus, you were sure Will would keep things from going up in flames. He has always been able to think on his feet during disasters.

Finally arriving at the apartment that Will had written on the paper, you were about to knock on the door when it swings wide open. You were taken aback by it, but then completely starstruck when the woman behind the door smile a dazzling smile that had you practically drooling. This woman… how could you even describe her? She was slim and graceful, radiating such a calm… almost hypnotizing aura. Her hair was light blonde and curly hair that came just to her chin, and she had one dimple on one of her cheeks. It made her seem even more charming. Then there were her eyes… they were like an emerald jewel glistening in the sun. She was definitely the most magnificent woman you had ever laid your eyes upon. You saw Queenie’s cheeks tint pink as her beautiful and luscious, pink lips stretched as she began to speak.

“Hello, dear. You must be, (Y/N)?” She kept her smile big and tight and blinked at her a few times.

“Yes, I’m (Y/N), and you’re Queenie? The mind reading dressmaker?” A giggle escaped Queenie at your joke seemingly before you even spoke it, but it didn’t weird you out since the only thing you could focus on was how beautiful the sound was. You wanted to record it and play it like music. Oh, god, you wanted to run away. You wanted to close the door and run away because it was specifically these thoughts that made you suffer growing up. The shame and the guilt crashes down on you as you take in Queenie’s beauty, and you see Queenie’s smile falter for a second before turning up sympathetically and placing her hand on your arm.

“Come in, honey. We have a lot of work to do before that cute little dance of yours.” Her smile was welcoming and it made you even more guilty for things you were thinking. You felt like she was now a victim to your criminalizing thoughts. She didn’t seem as distraught as you as she gently laid her hand on your arm and pulled you into the apartment.

The apartment is bright and elegantly spacial as Queenie lead you past the livingroom and kitchen and brings you into a smaller room filled with cloth with mirrors and measuring tapes. Queenie leads you onto a light colored wooden stand that faces three mirrors. Looking at yourself, you feel suddenly embarrassed and look away before noticing the small blush that creeps onto your face.

“Hm, what color, what color?” Queenie hums to herself as multicolored cloth is seen flying by your heads. “Oh yes, of course!” You don’t understand how she already knows what color to make your dress, but she continues focusing anyhow. You hear sewing machine turn on itself as cloth floats over to it and sews itself up.

“So, how do you know Will?” You decide to ask once you feel comfortable staring at your shoes, so you don’t have to stare at yourself or the beautiful woman standing behind you. If you could see her, you’d see that a reminiscent smile finds its way onto her lips that shows her cute little dimple.

“We dated many moons ago. He was a sweet boy.” She says softly and you feel your stomach drop. You feel disappointed, but you can’t really place as to why. Suddenly you feel a slim arm wrap around your waist and the young woman’s hands gently caressing your stomach. You look down to see a light colored measuring tape, but the touch still made you blush. “Don’t worry, darling. That’s long over now. No more competition for you.” Queenie pulls her hand back and gently touches your waist as she does so. It makes you shiver and the words make your stomach do flips. A floating clipboard and pen floats next to the both of you, jotting down your measurements. It feels like she can read your thoughts

“He talked about you a lot, you know. He felt like a protective older brother.” You smile at Queenie’s words, remembering you and Will as young kids trying to make it through together. Queenie then measured down your body and the width of your arm.

“He always felt like a protective older brother. I always felt safer when he was around.” The beautiful young woman behind you smiles from your smile you two seem to share a moment. You looking at her and her looking at you, and it feels like you both are falling into each other. The stare makes you feel lightheaded and you can’t decide whether it’s from her drowning stare or if you’re dehydrated. Oh, you’re dehydrated, alright. All the water is in her eyes and you want to drink it all up.

Queenie coughs into her arm to break eye contact and you see a hint of pink on her cheeks. “So, Ms. (L/N), do you have a date for your dance tonight?” By now the sewing machine in the room is going rampant and the lady behind you is doing nothing but twirling your hair very lightly and holding your shoulder, the yellow tape still in her hand. You clear your throat and smile.

“It’s not my dance to bring a date.” You answer cripictly

“Oh, but you want to bring a date, don’t you?” You can see Queenie through the large mirrors in front of the two of you and you see her smile brighten and her hands on your shoulders tightened. Yes, of course you do. “Yes, of course you do!” She giggles, speaking the words right out of your head. You’re so taken aback that you blush darkly.

“I never said that.” You turn to look back at her again defensively, and she only giggles again.

“Who is he?” She’s about to answer her own question with a guess, but stops herself short and gasps. “It’s… not a he, is it?” You’re blushing again and you suddenly feel very hot. How does she know? She couldn’t know…

“I have to go.” You say suddenly, barely above a whisper, as you tear away from her grasp and start for the door. You don’t see the troubled, almost offended, look that falls upon Queenie’s face.

“But your dress isn’t ready!” She exclaims feeling anxious and horrible for making you feel uncomfortable. She follows you out of the room and through the main hall.

“I’ll pick it up when it is.” You say louder, more definitive and confident than before.

“Hey, please wait.” Queenie pleads and reaches for your hand. Even though she hardly grabs you, you stop and turn to look at her. Your confidence immediately crumbles to shame as you look down to avoid her eyes. Those wretched eyes trying to pull you in. Like a tide, you try to avoid its’ current.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She soothes, you close your eyes when you feel her fingertips lightly pull the hair away from your face. It’s so soft and comforting you almost leaned into the touch. “No, there’s nothing wrong with you.” She reassures you, moving her hand so her thumb now gently caresses your cheek. “Of course I’ll go with you. I was hoping you’d ask.”

You furrow your eyebrows quizzically and open your eyes to find her smiling sheepishly. “How did you-?”

“Legilimency.” She answers directly. Your cheeks darken again and you smile, a dark chuckle coming from you.

“So, you knew.” It wasn’t a question. Despite her attempt at reassurance, you still felt ashamed for the strong feelings for this woman.

“No, not at first.” She said honestly, dropping her hand from your cheek when she feels she’s offended you. You feel her hand trail down your arm and when she gets to your hand, her fingers play with yours. Cautious, like she’s waiting for your reaction. You don’t give one. “I could hear some thoughts, but for awhile I thought they were about Will.” She drops her hand completely this time and she looks almost nervous. “But maybe I was just blind from my sudden attraction to you as well.”

A silence falls upon the two of you, but it’s not awkward. It’s another moment when your eyes meet hers and you can’t help but smile. “This isn’t weird?”

Queenie seems so genuine when she holds your hand and looks into your eyes then says, “No, this isn’t wrong.” Because she knows the question you’re really thinking and she also feels the same way about how everyone will react when they find out.

“Then, no mind reading help anymore,” You start, and she smiles when she resists herself from correcting you. “Will you be my date to the Winter Formal?”

“Well, my, my, I have never been more honored to accompany you.” A ding from the sewing room was heard along with the silence from the machine. “Ooh! Your dress is ready!”

You had arrived to the winter formal a few hours before the dance was supposed to begin to make sure everything was in order. The minute you walk in, you were amazed. The room looked so much better than you could have ever imagined. Starting with fairy lights hung all across the ceiling, and paper snowflakes hanging all over. The food trays were being brought in with all the goodies one could want. The kids were being fed dinner before the formal so you wouldn’t have to worry about them being hungry either. A live band was being hired for the event and where he was going to perform was currently being set up. You were so proud of the event you were holding and so excited for the kids to be able to experience this.

As the kids began to arrive, the winter formal seem all the more magical, despite the fact that most of it was done without magic. The only problem was the dance has been going on for an hour and you’re still alone. You tried not to be too disappointed by that, but watching the other kids dance around with their dates made you feel all the more lonely. Not only that, but if Queenie did show up, what would the kids say about her? It’s not she ever discussed her sexuality to her kids or any kind of romance for that matter.

You tried to rationalize in your head that even if your date stood you up, at least your kids wouldn’t hate you for your sexuality. That made you relax some, and you enjoyed seeing everybody dance around so happily.

“What are you doing standing here all alone?” You turn your head to find Will standing next to you. You return your gaze to the dance floor.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Will chuckled and smiled a bit.

“Well, may I have this dance then?” Will stands in front of you and offers his hand. Part of you is reluctant, mostly because you were saving yourself. Then you realized that if she wasn’t coming you’d be wasting all your time moping about it.

“Oh, why not?” You decided and took his hand. He leads you to the middle of the dance floor where he proceeds to hold your hand with one hand, and put his other hand at your waste. You placed your hand on his shoulder and begin to dance.

“I hope you aren’t too upset with Queenie. Sometimes she isn’t too good with plans.” He reassures and you’re reminded that he has had personal experience with her. He knows more about her than you ever will.

“It’s quite alright. Nothing to fret about too much.” You shrug, and you meant it. It wasn’t like a super serious date. You asked her way last minute so technically she has the right to not show up.

“Look at you, always being the strong type.” Will gives you a warm smile and suddenly you’re filled with warmth and magic that only Christmas can provide. Suddenly, will turn around and for a split second you’re confused, until you see who’s behind him.

“Pardon my interruption, but I believe you’re dancing with my date.” There she was. Standing just behind Will was the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes upon. She looked absolutely miraculous with her golden, curly hair pinned up against her head, wearing a tight red dress with a floral pattern etched in the lacing and the skirt of her dress hanging just below her waist, and read high heels to finish the look. You were stunned, starstruck, when you saw her.

“Yes, of course, my apologies.” Will steps aside and Queenie steps forward in her place.

“I hope you didn’t think I’d bail on you, honey.” Her voice sounded sweet, drenched in sugar, and you were hypnotized by her eyes once again.

“I’m not going to lie, I was a bit afraid of that.” You admitted then she gave you a sympathetic smile and cupped your cheek with her hand, softly caressing it with her thumb.

“I’d never leave you stranded like that.” Warmth and goosebumps traveled all through your body, and you felt like you were flying. Queenie then leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to your lips as you closed your eyes. Her lips were so soft and tasted so sweet that you instantly wanted more, but she pulled away. It was as if there were no kids, there was no dance, and it was just you and Queenie dancing idly under the sparkling snowflakes. You couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas gift.

A/N: Yes, I’m sorry this was soooo long, but I hope what lacked in time was made up for in content. Again, I really hope you enjoyed, and if anyone would like a request then please leave one. Even if it takes me 6 months to write. I love you all thank you for taking the time to read this <3

#request #fanfiction #imagines #fantastic beasts #fantastic beats and where to find them #queenie #queeniexreader #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #Harry Potter fic

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