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oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

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Apple Of My Pie (7) — Jin

A Small Town Swoons story

Chapter 7.

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Buttercup)

Wordcount: 7.1k words

Genre: non-idol!AU, Baker/Café owner!Seokjin, University student!reader Flatmates!AU, Friends To Lovers, Fluff, slightest angst, smut

Rating: 18+ (NSFW content)

A/N: Hello my sweet poppies! Welcome to the Small Town Swoon Universe! 🥰✨

In this episode: Jin and Buttercup finally reunite, and although the real world tries to interrupt their small idyll, Seokjin has the strength to finally impose his needs and confess his feelings. The evening proceeds in the best of ways.

As I mentioned before, this episode made me write things I didn’t know I had in me. Also, this will be the final episode for their storyline, however you will see more of Jin and Buttercup on future stories, mostly in small apparitions here and there. I might come back to this story someday, maybe with some drabbles or some small headcanons, however, I think that now it’s time to let Jin and Buttercup live their special moments with in their own privacy and make up for lost time.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: this is filthy. There’s swearing and light alcohol consumption (wine at dinner, both are pretty sober afterwards). Now, about the filth. Degradation kink, breast worship (involves kissing, licking, biting, grabbing), breast slapping, nipple pinching, one (1) spank, foodplay involving ice cream (so mild temperature play), dom!Seokjin, slightly bratty!reader, grinding, masturbation (both male and female receiving), brief mention of oral (male receiving), cumplay, cumeating, creampie, unprotected sex (please don’t do like them. The right way to go about this would be to use condoms and/or dental dams until you and your partner get the results of the test and are 110% sure you’re clean. If you have any questions, please head to Planned Parenthood’s website, they have wonderful webpages about safe, sane and consensual sex, plus anything you need to keep your sexual health in check. If you can’t check their website, please feel welcome to reach out to me through DMs, I’ll try to help 🥰💜). Also reader is kind of excited about Seokjin being circumcised? And these two have a latent impregnation kink that will show up someday. There are slightly angst discussion about past partners and feelings, but nothing extreme.

Remember to vote for next prompt (check the link in my bio) and in case you need it, here’s my masterlist 💜

In case you need it, here is the music companion

Enjoy ✨💜

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

Seokjin woke up with the ringing of a phone.

He appreciated the warmth and weight next to him, half on top of him.

He looked at you. He allowed himself to do that only for a couple seconds.

Your phone was ringing, and he needed to pick it up before it woke you.

Your face had been so scared and tired when he first saw it at the front door.

He stood and picked up the call just in time.

“Oh, thank God, Buttercup where are you?” Jeongguk’s voice came from the phone.

“It’s Seokjin. She’s with me, at the apartment. She’s sleeping.” He replied, his voice gravelly after being under the cold rain and sleeping for almost two hours.

“She’s with you?”

“Yes, she’s here. She’s sleeping.” Seokjin repeated.

“Kim Seokjin. I am going to kill you!” Yoongi said, stealing the phone from Jeongguk. “We were all looking for her. Poor Jeongguk was in a panic. Are you stupid? Outright dumb? What is it, both your two miserable neurons decided to throw a strike today? Did they accidentally crash and perish? Did they finally decide to end their suffering?”

“Yoongi. Stop,” said Spice from a distance. “She’s safe, stop acting like an overprotective parent.”

“Is she okay? Is she hurt?” Yoongi asked.

“No. I found her here, taking her stuff away.” Seokjin said, his body tensing at the thought. “Is she leaving? What is going on?”

“She’s going to the cottage with Namjoon. They’re leaving on Monday.”

Seokjin rolled his shoulders before exhaling. “How has she been in the last few weeks?”

“A mess. Sad, miserable. And it’s your fault.” Yoongi spoke with vitriolic hostility in his voice.

“I’m gonna fix it, Yoongi. I promise.” Seokjin said, his voice extremely emotional as he looked at you. Your eyes were open and you had the tiniest smile on.

“Are you gonna talk to her? Actually confess? Tell her you love her and be done with all the insecure, selfish bullshit?”

“I’m gonna talk to her.” Seokjin replied, still looking at you. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff to come clear with. And I’ll tell her I’m in love with her. And that she’s not going to Namjoon’s. She’s staying with me.” He winked. “She needs to eat and regain some strength before she goes to the woods, if she still wants to go. I’ll tell her ‘Buttercup, I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for four years.’” His voice broke. “‘I don’t want to spend one more day without you’, that’s what I’ll tell her.”

You were still incredulous, completely still under the blanket.

“And then I’ll ask her to be my girlfriend, and if she turns me down, then it’s alright. I’ll take it like a gentleman. I’ll let her be. But if there’s even a tiny, minuscule part of her that wants to say yes, then I won’t let her go until she agrees to become my girlfriend.” Seokjin explained, with determination filling his voice.

Yoongi got emotional. “Go tell her before you change your mind.”

“She’s right in front of me. She heard every single word.”

“Then I guess you have more important stuff than stay on the phone with me.”

Seokjin chuckled. “Hopefully kiss my new girlfriend, if she lets me.”

You didn’t even understand what was going on before you nodded energetically.

“She said yes. I gotta go.” Jin’s mouth shaped into a large, proud grin.

“Sure. Stay safe. I’m too young to become an uncle.” Yoongi teased with a snicker.

“Goodnight uncle.” Seokjin replied before closing the call.

Your stares stayed locked together as he placed down the phone.

His expression turned serious but kind. “You’re awake.”

You blinked and licked your lips. “I am.” You took a pause, inhaling. “And I want to kiss you.”

He mirrored your action, his tongue slipping out, wetting the seam of his mouth, directing your glance there. “I want to clear things up, before that.”

You closed your eyes, trying not to lose your patience. “What is there to clear up?”

“I just wanted to explain stuff. About Grace and all of the rest...”

From the insecure, agitated look in his eyes, you realised he was scared. You patted the sofa, inviting him to sit beside you. He followed your lead. “I’m listening.” You reassured him, placing your hand on top of his knee.

“When I started dating Grace, I was convinced I could never stand a chance with you. And though Yoongi insisted on the fact that you had feelings for me, I was too shy and too scared to risk it. And after living with you and being so… united. So domestic… I couldn’t handle my feelings anymore.”

You rubbed his arm comfortingly, sitting up, trying to reassure him, to heal him from all those months of insecurities and silence and denial.

“I tried to suppress them. And Grace looked so kind, so respectful. And she’s a beautiful young woman. I could see myself falling for her.”

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder. You still had to realise that such a gesture had a deeper, somehow different meaning, that from then on you were allowed to do that and more.

“But the closer I got to her — and the farther I got from you — the more it all felt wrong. And I don’t even know why I did what I did that Saturday — well Sunday, you know what I mean anyway. I think some part of me was angry because of Edmund or something, or because I thought that I could stop thinking about you if I found someone else to think about and that makes me an absolute idiot—”

You interrupted him. “Don’t hide from me. Ever.” You cupped his face and made him look at you. “You were hurt. And I took similar decisions. What I did with Edmund was somehow similar to what you did with Grace. It’s just that you two had feelings for each other while—” The idea of him being in love with someone else squeezed your lungs until you felt empty.

“I’ve never felt someone as deeply as I feel you, though. I’ve never felt so many things for anyone else beside you.” He said, his eyelashes fluttering as he looked at your lips.

“I love you.” You murmured. There were no other words you could use. “I’m in love with you and I’m not angry that you tried to forget and move on. It doesn’t matter that we fucked or made love to other people. I don’t care that you didn’t tell me. The only thing that matters is that you’re here now and I love you so much.”

He repositioned himself so he could look at you without getting a crick in his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, soft and delicate, worried even.

“Because I couldn’t think about losing you. Because I didn’t even realise I was in love before you started spending time with Grace. Well, I knew I was attracted to you and that I considered you my friend, but I had never really allowed myself to consider I could have more. I was happy with what we had, and I never realised I could lose it, or that someone else could have it instead of me.”

He touched your hair.

“I was okay with what we had. Asking for more felt selfish. Like I was being greedy.” You lowered your eyes, his gaze too intense for you to resist.

“I want you to be greedy, Buttercup.” He whispered, his hand cupping your jaw. “I want you to take all of me and not leave a crumb for anyone else.” His body felt closer, hotter. “I love you, Buttercup. And not in the friendly way. I love you in a very passionate, very hungry way.” His thumb traced your lower lip as he gazed at it heatedly. “Do you love me too?”

You nodded recklessly, almost snapping your neck. “I love you. In a very unfriendly, very sexy way.”

He smiled. “Good.”

His mouth lowered gently, reaching yours, his whole body inching forward until your eyes lost focus and closed. It was a good kiss. Not perfect but good.

Jin’s lips felt soft against your mouth, maybe a bit too delicate, still, definitely pleasing. With just a pinch of mischief, you pulled at his lower lip lightly, biting it delicately.

The growl he emitted had you smiling before you repeated your teasing move, drawing him in. He exhaled and opened his mouth, sucking your upper lip past his teeth.

That felt better than good, leaning to perfect.

What actually made it perfect was his body completely caving in as he manoeuvred himself on top of you, holding himself up with one hand as his hand explored your body deliciously, caressing your hair, your shoulder before reaching your waist.

Helpless and desperate, you pressed the tip of your tongue against his lower lip, pushing it into his mouth.

His hips pressed sinfully against your thigh as he groaned and tangled his tongue with yours.

You moaned and he whimpered in return, a growl vibrating deep in his throat.

His hand moved under your shirt, stopping abruptly.

Dammit.

Your stomach rumbled noisily, making Seokjin part from you. “You’re really hungry.”

You blushed and looked away. “Yeah.”

He hid his face into your neck, snickering. His breath tickled you. “You feel so good right here.” He said, snuggling closer. “But I have to feed you first.” His fingers dug into your sides. “You’re thin.”

Your nails raked against his back. “I had a bit of a hard time in the last few days.” You mentioned casually.

“Can’t have you like this.” He parted from your body, studying your face attentively. “Let’s get you fed.” He whispered, pecking your lips and standing up, heading to the kitchen.

“You’re kidding, right?” You stood up on wobbly legs and followed him.

He looked back at you. “Not at all.” Jin theatrically opened the fridge and lifted an eyebrow. “Chicken wraps. Salad. An abundant dose of ice cream. I need you sugared up.”

You looked at him with a pout.

“It’s the quickest meal I can arrange, Buttercup. We can have dinner in forty and then cuddle and make out. Dinner is non-negotiable.” He said, getting the chicken strips and the large tortillas, together with cherry tomatoes and cheese.

“Can’t we just… postpone dinner?” You said, too caught up in your grovelling to bring up memories of him and Grace in the kitchen.

“Why would we need to postpone dinner?” He asked, slipping some butter into a pan, together with some garlic, moving the chicken strips onto the pan and roasting them quickly with a random — and a very delicious-smelling — mix of spices.

You dragged your foot against the floor, trying to look demure. “You know why...”

He snickered devilishly. “We’ve waited for four years. One more hour won’t hurt you. Cut the cherry tomatoes, please.”

“Especially because we waited for years we should be forgoing dinner.”

He laughed. “I won’t have you fainting on me. Dinner, then whatever you want, Buttercup. Cut those tomatoes, you’re postponing the fun.” He said, adding a spoonful of chicken broth to keep the meat in the pan soft and tasty.

“Now I remember how insufferable you truly are.” You said, starting with the cutting.

He smirked. “You’re stuck with me from now on, doll.”

“I’m revoking the love declaration.” You muttered.

“Are you revoking your undying lust for me too?” He asked, turning towards you with a lopsided, cocky grin.

You just looked at him with the most insulting look you could muster before returning to the tomatoes.

“Such a good girl. Still cutting those tomatoes to get her reward.” He joked.

Once, this kind of nagging was absent minded, innocent and playful. Now it was outright sexual. Especially since the praise had a shiver running down your spine.

“Don’t tease if you’re gonna make me wait.” You groaned.

He bent and kissed your cheek. “I’m doing it for your good, Buttercup.” He moved to your earlobe. “You’ll thank me later, doll.” He nibbled on the soft skin. “I promise it will feel so good, Buttercup.”

You stretched your neck to the side, offering him the expanse of taut, corded throat.

He grazed it with his teeth, drawing the purple-greenish line of your jugular.

“I bet you taste so damn good,” he murmured, sucking at the base of your throat.

“Jinnie.” You called delicately.

He parted from you abruptly. “Dinner. First, dinner.” He reminded himself. “Dammit, you’re such a tease.” He complained, picking up another larger pan to heat up the tortillas. He also added a light sprinkle of flour to the chicken, to give a creamier texture to the sauce made by the broth and the butter. Once the first tortilla was warm, he placed the chicken on top, mingling it with the tomato pieces and the cheese while you prepared the salad.

Dinner was ready in twenty minutes, the wonderful smell of spices filling your nostrils and making your mouth water as you sat and stared at your tortilla, waiting for Jin to sit down himself. He also added an interesting bottle of white wine to the mix, matching the chicken.

“Enjoy.” He exclaimed before digging in himself.

Your whole mouth was feasting at the taste of the food.

It could feast for something better, your hormones reminded you, but you let that slip.

Dinner was uneventful, the both of you too busy and hungry and tense to start a conversation.

While you were thinking about how to tell Jin you wanted him to ram you into the mattress and slap your tits, he thought whether it was okay for him to want sex already. Okay, technically you had been friends for years, but maybe you wanted to wait, go on actual dates, be a couple, in an official relationship before letting him make love to you.

It was pretty clear that any kind of conversation between such two people would evidently elucidate any semblance of doubt, but it would also be a minefield of misunderstandings and potentially very embarrassing bushes to beat around.

So you both stayed silent, completely oblivious to the lessons you had learned roughly an hour ago.

By the time he stood and prepared a small bowl of plain milk gelato, topped with his special wild berries sauce, doubt had nagged at him enough that he was ready to speak.

He placed the bowl on the table. A lovely royal blue bowl. It was his favourite. Maybe because it was his mother’s favourite. He sat down and patted his hands against his thighs. “Come here.” He murmured.

You obliged, settling on his lap contentedly. He took a spoonful of dessert, making sure that he got some sauce in it before offering it to your awaiting mouth. “Eat up, doll.”

You opened your mouth and enjoyed the refreshing feel of the gelato against your palate.

“I need you to listen to me, Buttercup.” He started. “I know we confessed our feelings and that we’ve been attracted to each other for a very long time.”

You nodded, watching as he offered another spoonful as soon as you opened your mouth.

“I just want you to know that I’m dying to make love to you tonight, but we don’t have to. It’s okay if you want to… I don’t know, get physically intimate a bit at a time, or if you want it to be something special, or—”

You interrupted him. “I want to make love to you too, tonight.”

Your eyes followed him as he licked his lips. “Shall we bring this to the bedroom then?”

Nodding you stood up, going for the living room and grabbing the comforter, walking down the corridor and looking at him from over your shoulder. “What are you waiting for?” You asked before disappearing into his room.

He shook his head in disbelief before grabbing more wild berries sauce. Maybe, hopefully…

He took the bowl of ice cream and a spoon, taking his time before entering his room.

You were already laying on his bed, head to toe a vision.

You had already removed your yoga pants and you were laying there in an oversized t-shirt.

“Tell me how you want me to treat you, Buttercup.” He asked, studying you as he took a mouthful of gelato to his mouth.

“Undress first. Then come here. Feed me that delicious dessert and then feed me your cock.” You said, completely unashamed as his burning gaze explored your naked skin.

“I won’t feed you my cock, sorry doll.” He said, placing the bowl on the nightstand together with the sauce. “I’ll need to suck on your pretty tits first.” He took off his sweater in a flash, your eyes reacquainting with his naked chest, bathing in the glorious width of it. It was really breathtaking, with its plains and slopes and dips.

“You’re gorgeous.” You murmured, looking at him while your hand went to your breast, palming it and teasing the peak while he took off his sweatpants. Watching the delicious shape of him from over his boxers had you moaning just slightly, whimpering weakly before your hand slid under your shirt to grab at your flushed, overheated chest.

Seokjin caught your wrist vigorously, pulling it out. “Those are mine to touch, doll.” He reprimanded you. “All mine.” He repeated, straddling your waist, pinning your hands up.

You looked at him with a wicked smile. This, this, was your best friend, the man you had loved for years. And here he was, pinning your wrists, ready to mark your breasts, to own them.

“Keep ‘em there.” He ordered, letting go of your wrists before stretching his fingers to completely hold your breasts, kneading them lightly to test the texture.

“Fuck, they're so soft.” His eyes closed as he felt them up appreciatively. “I can't wait to suck these.” He said, and his unashamed comment opened another new world to you. His thumbs found your nipples, rolling them under the plush pads of his fingers. “You like this?” He asked, looking in your eyes.

You nodded, stretching toward the bedside table and switching on the small lamp there. “Wanna see you.” You explained, looking at him, waiting for a reaction.

“Are you sure? You okay with me watching?” He asked, just as your eyes closed and your back arched, your breasts pushing against his palms, your throat emitting the shyest moan.

“Oh, you like this a lot, don't you, Buttercup?” He snickered, bending down to kiss your neck. “Let me hear how good it feels, honey,” He murmured, sucking at your skin gently.

“Please, I want my shirt off, Jin.” That's all you managed to say, squeezing your thighs together once you realised he wasn't giving you anything to grind against.

“You want me to touch your naked skin?” He asked, making you grow even more desperate.

“Please. Jin…”

He looked at your face. It was absolutely adorable as it scrunched up in disappointment, a lovely pout making your lips rounder, softer, plumper. He kissed them briefly. “Sit up, lovely. Let's take this shirt off.” He murmured with a deep baritone timbre.

The shirt was gone in a second, his mouth latching on a nipple before you could even take off the shirt completely.

His hips ground against your belly, his erection pressing hard against your navel while you laid back down, his front arching away from you as his mouth stayed attached to your chest.

“Please, gimme…” You tried to speak, needing something to ease the pressure between your thighs, where your throbbing clitoris felt unforgivably neglected.

“What?” He asked, parting from your breast and looking so blissful and confused, like he didn't even know what was going on, like your breasts had given him a total reset and all he could remember, all he could ever want and do was to stay there and suck, completely oblivious to anything but the object of his lust.

“Need you down there,” was all you managed to say, still too high from the promises of pleasure.

He grinned *hazily. “Down where?” He asked, teasing and unforgiving.

You exhaled and whimpered. “I need you between my legs.”

“Between your legs where, Buttercup? Don't be shy.”

At that you snapped. “If you intend to keep sucking my nipples could you please kindly press your thigh against my clit? I need to grind on something and you're being too fucking uncooperative.”

He laughed almost hysterically. “Of course, Buttercup. See, was it so hard to ask?” He commented, almost too patronising.

“You're making me want to shut your mouth.” You replied, pushing your hips up and finally meeting his hard thigh, giving a low moan.

“Too bad that would keep me from doing this.” He said, sitting up slightly, grabbing the spoon from the bowl and pressing the cold metal to your areola, spreading a thick layer of ice cream there while your hot skin made it melt and dribble down.

“Fucking hell.” You said, watching as his tongue slid out and collected the rivulet of cream that was dangerously rolling down towards the sheets, almost staining them.

His eyes found yours and he grinned. “Feels good?”

You nodded. “Do that again, please.”

He obliged, this time reaching the peak and sucking it, his mouth opening wide as he tried to suck away as much dessert as possible.

Your left hand went to his head, holding him against your breast while your right one went to his ass, pressing it down so that your pelvis and his met, grinding against each other deliciously, his mouth leaving the sucking motion to release a heavy exhale.

“You have the most beautiful tits I've ever seen and touched, Buttercup. They feel so soft and warm and good.” He murmured, so aroused it almost felt painful. “I love them so much.” He confessed, pressing them together and dipping his face in between, moving it side to side. “I love you so damn much, ____.”

He gave a few thrusts with his hips, before pressing his cock harshly between your bodies, your skin feeling so sensitive that you thought you could feel it throb against you.

“I want you inside.” You whispered, grinding into him in response. “Tell me you used a condom the other time.”

He nodded. “I always have.”

You nodded in reply. “You sure you’re clean?”

“I got tested before Grace. And she’s clean.” He said, slowing down at the mention of his ex.

You nodded. “I got checked after Edmund, for peace of mind. All safe.”

“Thank fuck.” He commented, biting the underside of your boob. “I can’t wait to feel you raw on me. If you’re okay with that.”

You confirmed, bobbing your head so energetically you thought it would detach from your neck. “Want to feel you cum inside.” You murmured while he bit his lip and got more ice cream, covering your other breast, the cold of the food and the spoon making you keen and purr. “Is this what you were doing while she made those sounds?”

He tutted and shook his head. “I’ve always wanted this with you. It would never please me as much with anyone else.”

You rolled your eyes. “Liar.”

He arched an eyebrow and stopped his licking and sucking motions, sinking his teeth into your flesh, eliciting a gasp from you, leaving his position only once he was sure he had left a mark. “What did you say?”

“That you’re a liar. That you like this more with me than with anyone else,” you replied, cocky and bratty.

Without thinking twice, he slapped your left breast violently, not even trying to be delicate.

You squealed, your whole body flinching before your fingers gripped the sheets tightly.

“You think I would do this with just anyone?” He asked, almost angry, the hard bite in his voice scaring you just a little.

He eyed the other breast meaningfully, placing his hand there but not slapping the full curve until you shook your head yes, giving him permission.

The second blow had you losing your mind completely, your cunt so sensitive that you felt a heavy gush of arousal drip out of your entrance. “No, Jin.”

“Grip the headboard and stay still.” He said, sitting up and tugging your panties down, the fabric almost ripping at the aggressive movements. “Maybe you don’t get how much you turn me on, Buttercup.” He grinned, looking at you finally naked in front of him. “Do you know how many times I saw those perky nipples under my shirts? How many times I thought about covering them in any food imaginable?”

You shook your head. “Maybe I wanted you to lay me on top of the kitchen table and shove your cock in my cunt and bruise my tits all over.” You replied, batting your lashes innocently. “Maybe call me your dirty little slut. Throw in a couple spanks.”

He stopped everything he was doing, entirely frozen.

“Is that how you like it?” He asked, completely focused on your reply.

You licked your lips. “With you I might like that, yes.”

“You want to be my dirty little slut?” He asked, staring into your eyes, quoting your words exactly.

You inhaled and nodded.

“You want me to degrade you?” He asked again, settling between your legs and rubbing your thighs.

Again, you shook your head yes.

“What if I called you my cockstarved whore?” He said, slightly hesitant.

You smiled and closed your eyes. “Why don’t you do that while squeezing my cheeks with one hand and slapping my tits with the other?”

He snickered. “You really are a filthy animal, uh?” He slapped your breast and bent down to your face. “You want me to use you like a fuckdoll, mh?”

“Yes, please.”

“I need to stretch you first, though, love.” He said, softening for a second. “Now, out of our little game here, I don’t want to hurt you like that, yes?”

Your mind sobered up for a minute as you listened to him.

“Listen to me now, Buttercup. We need a safeword, love.” He said, touching your face. “You okay with colours? Green is good, yellow is slow down, red is stop.”

“I’m good with that.” You replied, trying to reach his face with yours. “Can you kiss me, please?”

His expression turned longing and fond before he took his time, making love to your mouth with his, his kiss so deep and demanding and passionate until he felt how wet you were against his thigh.

“You’re drenched, doll.” He said, smirking at you. “I want to feel your pretty hand around my cock, Buttercup. Stroke me while I stretch you, love.”

You nodded, your hands leaving the headboard lightning fast sliding into his underwear with speed you doubted you could muster in any other circumstances.

“Fuck, you’re thick.” You said once your fingers wrapped around him.

“That’s what the stretching is for, Buttercup.” He grinned as he looked down at you. His fingers slipped into your slit effortlessly, your inner muscles gripping him immediately.

“And you’re tight. So damn tight.” He replied, bending down to lick at your chest, suctioning your areola into his mouth, shaking his head, making your whole breast bounce in a movement that was too mild to cause pleasure, weren’t it for the incredible amount of arousal circling in your bloodstream.

“Please, Jin. Inside. I’m begging. Please.” You pleaded, stroking him, feeling how long and thick and hot he was, filled with ridges and veins. And he was circumcised. None of your previous partners were.

You explored the differences with your fingers, the lack of skin there so interesting and unusual.

“You like that?” He asked, gritting his teeth as he felt his cock flutter, a drop of precum leaving his slit.

You nodded as you caught his arousal, spreading over the soft, spongy tip, completely undisturbed by foreskin. “I want to see it.” You said before a long moan left your lips, his fingers hitting a sensitive spot inside you, rubbing it with slow movements of his index and middle finger, hooking them and pressing intensely against the smoothest patch of skin. “Oh, god.” You murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as he added his thumb on your clit.

“Cum on my fingers, Buttercup.” He growled. “Then I’ll let you see my cock. You need to cum first, though. Cum for me.”

While your hand stroked him lightly, absentmindedly, the rest of your body focused exclusively on the feel of his digits inside you. ‘I’m close’ was all you managed to say before your hips started following your high, your body becoming completely unresponsive to any semblance of control your mind tried to impose.

“Cum, love.” He said, and your whole being responded, your hand stilling, your breathing stopping, your eyes opening wide before closing again while ecstasy possessed you.

“Yes, love. That’s it. My filthy thing. Show me how you do it.” He spurred you on, watching your body contort in pleasure.

“Jin.” You whined, the first sound you managed to emit since you came apart for him.

“Yes.” He said, removing his thumb from your clit and adding another finger inside you, stretching you wide before you called a yellow.

He extracted his fingers and laid them flat against your mound. “I think I promised you my cock, uh?”

Grinning wildly, you agreed, trying to tug his boxers off. “I want it. I earned it. Give it to me.”

He snickered, cleaning his hand against your breast before collecting your taste and what was left of the gelato with the flat of his tongue. “How demanding.”

“I’ve waited four years. Can’t you just do me already?”

“We could have waited way, way less.” He said, taking the bowl with only a spoonful of molten ice cream, tipping it teasingly over your torso, drawing a line that went from your belly button to your mouth, which you opened wide, letting the liquid dribble in.

Seokjin stared in wonder, imagining something else spilling into your mouth. Once there was nothing left, he placed the bowl back on the bedside table, bending down and licking up the line of cream he had drawn, slowing down to make sure he didn’t leave too much of a mess.

By the time he reached your neck and chin, he was ready to explode with want, his whole body needing to claim, own, possess.

“Is my little slut ready?” He asked, lingering over your face. “Or does she need to learn some more patience?”

You shook your head, licking his lips. “Please.” You begged, your nails raking down his back.

“That’s a good slut. You’re begging for my cock?”

You nodded.

“And you’re so dumb for it you even lost your words?”

You nodded again, grinning.

“She’s the smartest little bean and still gets silly for my cock.” He smiled fondly, almost insultingly. “That’s my pretty fuckdoll.”

He laid down beside you, finally freeing his cock as he arched his hips off the bed and removed his underwear.

Your eyes focused on his dick immediately, the shaft so beautiful, covered in veins just like you had imagined when you had felt it underneath your fingertips.

“Dammit. It’s...” You bent over him, getting your hands on him, bringing your face closer to his crotch, wanting to learn every single detail by heart. “Jin.”

“What.” He replied before throwing his head back, his fingers going to the pillow and gripping it, his hand leaving the fabric to press his palm to his mouth.

You had teasingly taken his tip into your mouth, his skin feeling so smooth and hot, salty, your cheeks and tongue eager to squeeze him tentatively, feeling just how spongy his flesh felt.

He moaned sinfully. “You’re really hungry, aren’t you, my naughty slut.” His hand reached the crown of your head, caressing your head before pulling you off. “I wanna cum in your dripping cunt, Buttercup. Come up here.”

“What if I wanna blow you?” You teased, arching an eyebrow.

“Maybe I’ll let you do that for round four or something, come up here, let me fill that tight warm cunt.”

Closing your eyes, smiling slowly, you straddled his hips. “You’d better keep your mouth on my boobs in the process.”

He giggled. “Wouldn’t have it any different. Come here.” He opened his arms and you propped yourself on your elbows. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You cupped his cheek and waited for him to kiss you.

He obliged. “Feels so good to taste me on your tongue.” He murmured, stroking your back.

“I haven’t even properly taken you in my mouth.” You quipped, slightly petty.

He smiled and grabbed his cock, placing the tip against your entrance. “I’ll make up for it.” He kissed your cheek. “Take your time.”

You nodded and lowered yourself slowly. Taking the first few inches was blissful, the lack of barrier making him slide easily.

“Fuck, it feels good.” He growled. “You feel so warm and tight, love. You feel fucking amazing.”

You purred as you took some more, the stretch becoming more difficult. Your inner muscles contracted, making you come to a halt.

“Holy fuck.” He murmured, his hips pushing in before he managed to control himself. “Sorry, Buttercup, so sorry.” He apologised as you flinched. He kissed your face repeatedly. “I’m so sorry.” He touched your cheek.

“It feels good, but I need to—” You took more of him. “Go slow.”

He nodded and felt your breast against his palm, hanging heavy, right there for him to reach and touch and fondle and suck. “Sure thing, love.” He looked into your eyes. “Tell me how I can make it better.”

You shook your head. “Just hold me, please.”

He wrapped you in his arms just as you took all of him, sitting on him. “Yes, ____. You are so perfect.”

You closed your eyes, breathing in through your mouth. Slowly, you started rotating your hips, feeling how his cock filled you, pulsating inside you. “Jinnie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Buttercup.” He spoke gently, assisting you as you started riding him, his fingers gripping your hips gently.

“You’re so hot.” You whined, biting your lip, watching as his face contorted in pleasure. “I love you so much,” you said with a whimper, your inner walls constricting around him.

“Stop getting tighter, it feels too good.” He whispered, chuckling in desperation.

“Don’t you wanna fill me up?” You looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “I want you to. Please.” You spoke through a pout, moving faster on him.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to keep himself grounded.

You slowly rose to a sitting position, leaving the warmth of his embrace. “Don’t keep me waiting.” You provoked him, spreading your tiny hands over his insanely wide chest, your nails teasing him just a little. “I know you want to watch me drip in your cum.”

He exhaled heavily before giving a deep, breathy laugh, like a short series of hiccups. “You think you deserve my cum, you dirty slut?” He licked his lips, observing your tits shake right in front of his face before slapping them, earning a moan from you. “You really like them slapped, uh? Let’s see if you like spanks too.” He taunted before landing a heavy smack on your ass, enjoying the squeeze of your kegels. “And that pussy likes to clench me so tight.” He grinned, watching as your hand reached your clit, your eyes closed, your hair messy around your face. “Yeah, touch yourself, Buttercup.”

Your gaze met his, your chest blushing as your high approached. “I’m close.”

“It’s okay, keep touching yourself, love. I want you to feel good, honey.” His hips thrust in from beneath, making the stimulation more intense.

“I’m cumming,” you whimpered, leaning even more into your hand as your angle shifted, his cock hitting all the right spots inside you.

As soon as your body crashed on his, Seokjin caught you, holding you close while his throbbing cock kept pistoning in and out of you, focusing on making your orgasm last as he started zeroing in on his own.

“Keep it up, love,” he growled sternly while he felt his restraint slip, “I’m gonna get my slut sloppy with my cum, then I’m gonna lay her on her back and keep it plugged inside her while I fill her up some more.”

You only sobbed and squealed as you felt him get absolutely wild, growling as he gave messier strokes before sinking in deep and staying there, his cock pulsating and spilling his release inside your sensitive walls.

“Goodness, fuck, love. Never had a cunt this good.” He growled, holding his position for a minute, both of you exhausted and breathing heavily.

“Are you really going to do that?” You asked as soon as you came to your senses.

He blinked. “What?”

“The flipping on my back and going for round two?” You asked, parting from him just enough to look him in the face.

“Am I soft?” He asked you, arching an eyebrow.

You squeezed him with your kegels, his lower lip disappearing between his teeth as he felt you get impossibly tighter. “No.” You replied, looking into his dark gaze.

“Then you have your answer.” He smirked before executing his power move, your back hitting the sheets while he adjusted himself on top of you. “Grab the headboard. Hold on tight.” He said before sliding out and snapping his hips forward, his dick hitting the deepest corner of your sex.

“Oh, damn.”

He chuckled ruthlessly. “Damn right.” He replied cockily, slamming into you again, setting a fast, angry pace, watching your lips open wide, his cock coaxing cry after cry from your throat. “Are you gonna cum for me again? Milk this cock with your juicy cunt?”

You nodded helplessly, arching your chest up, trying to get his attention on your nipples.

He bent down obediently, giving you exactly what you were silently asking, his tongue laving your left areola in lazy, teasing licks. “Touch your clit.” He commanded, feeling his edge come around.

While his cock kept ramming in and out of you, his mouth went to your throat, biting you, his neck contorting as he tried to pay more attention to your sensitive skin.

Your fingers reached your clit just as he sunk his teeth in the soft curve of your bosom.

“Jin, please.” You croaked, your hips meeting his while the room filled with the sound of skin smashing against skin, the headboard thumping against the wall, the feet of the bed scraping against the floor, his laboured breath interrupting once you felt his cock spill inside you again with the strange, pleasurable sensation of his cum spurting against your walls.

You whimpered, hoping you could still cum one more time, but ready to give that up, if need be.

“Come on, Buttercup. One more. I know you can.” He said, staying inside you, arching off of you and slapping your breast again. “I know you’re still hungry for my cock. Give me one more, my lovely little slut. Gimme more, love. I’m waiting for you.” He said, watching your fingers work your clit furiously.

“Again, Jin.” You whimpered, your voice breaking.

“This?” He asked, hitting again.

“Yes, Jin, Yes. Please, Seokjin.” You begged. “Please, I love you, please, make it good. Please, please, please.” You cooed and chanted, so lost in pleasure you felt your high peak and before it shoved you tumbling downhill, pleasure making you soar and precipitate, like a small bird in a storm.

“Oh, you’re cumming, Buttercup.” He observed delivering small hits to your nipples before pinching one, then the other, tweaking them energetically but carefully.

“Jin.” You whimpered in a long moan.

“Oh, yes, ____. It’s me love. You’re with me, love.” He said, just as you tried getting closer to him, your hand resting on your mound while your other arm wrapped around him.

“I love you.” You whispered, your breath calming down. “I’ll never stop saying it.”

He rolled the both of you on your sides, looking at each other.

“I love you too, Buttercup.” He whispered, bringing you closer to him. “We’re both so messy.”

“The ice cream got so sticky.” You complained sadly, giving him a tired look.

“We should shower.” He considered, kissing your lips.

“You really feel like standing up?”

He eyed you eloquently. “I haven’t even slid out of you yet.”

You hummed. “Don’t want you to.” You mused, nuzzling into him.

“We need to clean you up.” He said, stroking your hair fondly. “My adorable messy slut.” He said with the expression and tone of the most affectionate praise.

You purred under his touch, feeling something flutter in your guts. “Don’t say it if you’re not going to torture me afterwards.”

He chuckled. “Let’s clean you up and get some rest. I’ll give you round three if you behave.”

“And then I can blow you for round four?” You asked, eyes bright and inquisitive.

He outright laughed, the sound making you laugh too. “Maybe.” He said, cupping your cheek and pulling out of you slowly, grabbing his boxers to clean you up as delicately as possible before you both stood and walked to the bathroom.

Seokjin woke up around five am, his alarm telling him it was time to get ready for Sunday shift. He would come back in time to make you breakfast — and maybe make love to you afterwards.

Switching off the alarm, he slid out of your grip, your arm thrown possessively around his waist.

He caressed your face before kissing your forehead and stepping away, knowing that it would take a catastrophe to take himself away from you if he lingered for too long.

Your eyes opened when the alarm stopped, watching his back as he disappeared into the bathroom.

When he came back, he was fully dressed, only his shoes and coat missing. You opened your eyes as he pressed his lips to your cheek. “Bakery?” You asked. “Don’t you have someone for the morning shift?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been considering getting some help. At least for a couple mornings a week.”

You hummed and nodded. “I can come along if you need.”

He denied. “Stay here. I wanna find you sleepy and cosy when I come back. Remember round five?”

You smiled and hid into the pillow. “Yes, please.”

He smiled along. “Good. Go back to sleep, Buttercup. We’re going on our first date today.”

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

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

Masterlist

#bangtanhq #thetruthuntoldnet #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #jin x reader #Baker!seokjin #bts fanfiction #bts blog #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #Seokjin flatmates!Au #Seokjin friends to lovers

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wildcardwriting · 5 years ago

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Daemon’s Fate #5

[Katekyo Hitman Reborn]

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Daemon’s Fate on AO3

Summary: When Tsuna wasn’t born with a daemon, it drew attention. He was bullied so much that Nana was forced to take drastic measures. Yet, after Tsuna saves two animals (an abandoned baby phoenix, and a starved lion cub) they start following him around and people (including Reborn and the mafia) start making new assumptions… Poor them. Drabbles and some chapters.

XXxxxxXX

Part 5: Back Tracking

XXxxxxXX

The rest of the conversation was much tamer in comparison, but Reborn was far from pleased. Dino wasn't paying much attention anymore, going from shock to fear and back again. Normally Reborn would have snapped him out of it, but considering the situation was as mind-blowing as it was he let Dino have a few minutes. He needed to figure a few things out. The file he was given on his new student was falling to pieces the longer he was in Tsuna's presence. Now, normally he would have blamed this on poor skills and perhaps low-quality information people, but if Tsuna's hyper intuition was anywhere as good as the ninth's this was less about the people Iemitsu had put on his son's guard and more on the fact that Tsuna's latent skills were better than a civilian and better than a low-ranking mafia minion.

Reborn resisted the incredibly strong urge to sigh. He needed to gain back control of the situation, and reassess his training plans.

"Snap out of your shock, Dame-Dino," Reborn said using a bullet to help illustrate his words."A boss is supposed to be above it all."

"But, but Tsuna is trusting me with his daemons! How am I supposed to react to that? " He said looking seconds away from having a nervous breakdown. "I just met him and already he—"

Tsuna reaches across the table, to serve Dino some more tea, looking like the entire conversation had nothing to do with him. It made Reborn want to shoot at him, but he resisted the urge considering how close his student's daemons were and how likely they were to bite him if he did anything to Tsuna while they were away from him. This whole meeting was a huge mess, and while normally he thrived in creating chaos his student was apparently better at deflecting it off him than he first appeared.

"Your tea is going to get cold, Dino-san," Tsuna prompted when no one said anything after a few minutes. He took another cookie from the bowl in the middle of the table and bit into it casually as he leveled a rather serious look at the people sitting across from him. "But something is on your mind?" He asks turning not to Dino like it first seemed but to Reborn himself.

Reborn frowns. "You said good instincts. Elaborate." He presses but both of his students, past and present can hear the unsaid command.

Tsuna tilts his head and turns to his daemons. His mouth opens but there no sound—he's likely commanding his daemons. But he still doesn't immediately answer Reborn and its annoying.

There are few people who would even dare ignore him, but he knows better than to lash out at his student and frowns instead. To his left, he sees Tsubird nuzzled Dino one more time before flying off to land on Tsuna's shoulder. It was a show of support Reborn couldn't overlook, especially because Natsu followed less than a minute later. Both tensed and regarded Reborn like he was an enemy as they took their places across the table directly in front of Reborn. Any warmth that had been there only minutes before was gone replaced with distrust and anger, and yet Tsuna just sits there sipping his tea.

The disharmony between the two aspects of Tsuna is mind-bending, but instead of focusing on the one aspect that he still can't understand, he turns to his current student waiting for answers.

"I just do." He said reaching out to both of his daemons, patting them casually. Likely trying to comfort them, though why he was trying to comfort his daemons rather than the other way was curious. Daemons were a person's true nature, and most everything they did was a reflection of the person's soul that spawned them. Tsuna was acting like they were separate beings from him, distinct with all their own mannerisms and feelings. It was an odd reaction. Perhaps it was a cultural difference? It was hard to tell.

Reborn wasn't friendly enough with anyone from the Japanese Yakuza to get a general read on what was socially common in Japan, and considering even Iemitsu as his best source hadn't been to Japan in years, he was lacking information on what was commonly accepted and what wasn't socially. Parts of Tsuna's attitude could be a result of his native upbringing but there was so much he didn't know about his student that it was difficult to see what was nature and what was problematic. In Italy, a reaction like that meant therapy. In Japan, it could be common. He was left to guess. Until he managed to get Tsuna to trust him, he wouldn't know for sure.

And then Nana called them down to dinner, and the moment was lost.

XXxxxxXX

"So did you managed to get along?" Nana asks them as they enter the kitchen and start taking their seats at the table.

Tsuna smiles again, mysteriously. Reborn starts to wonder if perhaps that's Tsuna's default expression, perhaps like Fon hiding his emotions behind a smile instead of a sleeve.

"Dino-nii was very kind," He tells her, taking the plates from her hands and starting to serve everyone. Neither Reborn or Dino miss the change of honorific but let it pass. If upstairs was any indication Tsuna only said what he wanted, regardless of what anyone demanded.

Setting the plates out, Tsuna moved around the table adding food here and there, seemingly at random. Apparently, this was something of a routine because Nana takes a seat at the far right of the table and doesn't argue with him.

"Natsu and Tsubird really like Dino-nii," Tsuna tells her as he pours some more espresso into Reborn's tiny cup.

Nana brights up so much at the statement, Reborn can nearly see the flowers that spring to life. Her own daemon is apparently just as proud because it hops off her shoulder and starts rubbing up against Tsuna's cheek, lovingly.

"Oh, that is so wonderful Tsu-kun!" She smiles and then turns to Dino. She pauses for a second, surprised before smiling again. Reborn figures she noticed the rather odd patch of green on Dino's shoulder.

"Your daemon is so cute, Dino-kun." She says changing tracks from whatever she had been going to say.

Dino blinks himself, having entirely forgotten the presence of his own daemon in the aftermath of Tsuna's. He turns to his right shoulder. "This is Enzo, he's a Sicilian pond turtle." He says beaming and looks back to Enzo petting him.

"A good daemon," Tsuna says, finally taking his own seat. He starts to separate some food into some smaller plates, presumably to feed his own daemons. "I think it matches you."

Dino and Romario blink at the odd comment. Of course, the daemon matches Dino, its Dino's daemon. It wouldn't make sense otherwise if it didn't match him.

Reborn, on the other hand, frowns. That was a rather odd comment for his student to make.

What exactly is he trying to say?

Tsuna pauses in his motions and looking at the trio he must have seen something in their expressions because he starts to elaborate. "I'm not sure how much you know about the Daemonic Theory and Symbolism...? "

He waits for the trio to reply.

Romario shakes his head, and Reborn stays nothing.

Daemonic Theory and symbolism was a complicated, delicate, and exhaustive science that was used to explain the differences in character traits among Daemons and how it linked to personality, but it was an esoteric field that not many people went into to, mostly because it required a level of memorization that was left to dedicated scholars. Reborn himself only had a passing awareness of the science, knowing only very general things about Daemons and how it related to families. It helped his awareness and his study of people for work but not much more. His time was limited and it was probably the same with both Romario and Dino.

"Not much, I admit," Dino tells Tsuna, interrupting Reborn's thoughts. Dino rubs his head rather sheepishly, unknowingly answering for the group.

Tsuna nods but doesn't look surprised. "Turtles are known for their determination, endurance, and longevity. A person with a turtle daemon is a survivor, often as a result of overcoming a great challenge. A person with a turtle daemon is stability and protection for those around them." He pushes the small plates of food to his daemons and looks up to met Dino's eyes. "I think it's a good match, don't you think?"

"I think so too," Nana added in. "After all, he's your new brother, right?"

Tsuna nods and both of the Sawada's dig into the food, like Tsuna, did nothing special.

While across the table Dino is bright red. Next, to him, Romario is still in shock. Neither having seen that piece of information coming or the fact Tsuna himself would know about his particular daemon. Did his instincts forewarn him or did he know it naturally? Dino couldn't even begin to guess, but Reborn might. Glancing to his right, Reborn looks especially intrigued, and Dino tries not to shiver at the thought.

An interested Reborn was never a good thing.

He himself has only had that look directed at him two times, and both times were painful, to say the least. For Tsuna to have that same look directed at him, is scary. He wonders how exactly his new little brother will take Reborn's interest.

Reborn smirks and placing his cup of espresso on the table reaches for his chopsticks. He looks ready to eat, but his eyes are Tsuna.

He'd like to test this new found knowledge of Tsuna's.

"What about chameleons? Or Monkeys? Perhaps a centipede?" He says rapid firing questions.

Dino turns to Reborn in surprise.

In that particular combination, there's no way he isn't asking about the other Arcobaleno. Especially, because while he might not know which daemon and human combination pair Reborn is getting at with the monkey question, Dino knows centipede Daemons are incredibly rare. Lal Mich is the only mafioso that he knows high up enough in the mafia for Reborn to know and interact with so it's probably not much of a stretch to guess that Reborn likely means the Storm Arcobaleno as the daemon monkey pair, as the other possible one.

Tsuna slowly blinks at the questions, but answers regardless. "Centipede daemons are born of great difficulty, they face problems often in romance or socially. They are tough, sneaky, and constantly on the move. To have a centipede daemon as a partner is to be hardworking, stubborn and reach for greater heights. They are hard to know but the greatest supports... and monkeys." He hums for a second. "That's a little more difficult."

"Really? In what way?" Reborn said looking curious.

Tsuna looks to him meeting his stare dead on. "Monkey daemons are characterized by their relationships. Do you want general, or something more specific? "

"Acquaintances.. would probably be most accurate." Reborn hedges, looking pensive.

Tsuna figures that's probably normal in the mafia were relationships and bonds of trust are hard to come by. Criminality, let alone social criminality really isn't something he knows a lot of, even considering his recent studies under Reborn. For all he knows the relationship is complicated, Tsuna doesn't know, but thinking about what he knows about Reborn and what Monkey partners and their ties to life he can make a guess.

"Monkey daemons are known to be playful, they signify safety, bravery, and emotional intelligence. Among friends and family, they bond deeply but have difficulty seeing the situation from another angle. They are sensible and resourceful. Monkey daemon pairs are a source of profound wisdom if they allow themselves to move on from the past, and don't think too hard on the future." Tsuna says reaching for his tea.

He tries not to think too much on how he sounds. He had no idea that when he started learning about Daemonic Theory and Symbolism that he was signing himself up to be interrogated. Dino is looking at him like he's some sort of bomb waiting to go off, and Reborn looks incredibly evil. He knew not many people actually studied Daemonic Theory and Symbolism but this was starting to get a little ridiculous. He would have thought people in the mafia would be studying it if only to get some advantage out of being able to read other people. Yet, for some reason, Reborn seems surprised...? It a weird sensation to finally be able to read his tutor after nearly five weeks of trying and failing to get rid of the little murderer baby, but Tsuna can't really find it in himself to be too charitable considering the mess Reborn is causing him.

"And chameleon?" Reborn says inching slightly closer to his student as if to listen better.

"What about them?" Tsuna frowns and takes a large bite out of his food. What he knows about chameleons is his own business. If Reborn wants to know about his own daemon, he can go look it up. Tsuna isn't his minion.

Reborn pouts...? Or frowns?

It hard to say on such a small face, but Tsuna could care less.

"I thought you knew all about Daemonic Theory and Symbolism, Dame-Tsuna," Reborn says inching ever so close to sounding mocking.

The chopsticks break in Tsuna's hands. While on his sides his daemons start growling. Even Nana herself doesn't seem happy with how the conversation is progressing, as she frowning disapprovingly. Dino and Romario pausing in their motions, the tension starting to build. It like the two have forgotten about everyone else in the room but considering who Tsuna is picking a fight with Dino can't help but be a little awed. He'd never had the courage to talk back to Reborn as a student and yet somehow in the last few hours he's seen his little brother do that multiple times over and over again and yet nothing happened. At all.

If anyone else had tried to pull that kind of thing with Reborn in the mafia, they'd be sporting a few bullet holes, but Dino guesses that trying that same tactic on the heir of the Vongola Family is a different matter entirely. After all, his own family had some backup heirs if Dino couldn't take up the mantle. The Vongola doesn't really have that option anymore. Tsuna is all they got, and if Reborn is too rough with him, there was going to be problems. But still, the amount of pure courage Tsuna is packing is pretty impressive.

"I didn't say I knew everything," Tsuna says not even looking at Reborn anymore.

"Oh, I thought you knew...?"

"Whether I do or don't is none of your business—"

"Considering I'm your home tutor—"

"Means nothing." Tsuna hisses. His eyes are burning fury. He pushes his plate to the side and getting to his feet he lets his daemons perch on his shoulders. "You are nothing to me. I don't trust you. Ietmisu does, and maybe your boss does, but not me." He pushes his chair in, and places his plate in the sink leaves the kitchen. He almost runs up the stairs to his room, closing the door with a quick but sharp sound.

Apparently, Reborn underscored how bad his relationship with Tsuna was in his call.

Dino sighed.

Great.

XXxxxxXX

So this chapter was mainly to work through some issue plaguing Dino, Reborn and Tsuna.

Tsuna still doesn't trust Reborn at all and he has good reason to. Being near Reborn is causing him so much grief.

Reborn is still an arrogant little jerk who thinks throwing random variables at Tsuna is enough to changes things, but he's wrong. At its doing is showing him how much Tsuna and his pets hate him. Yes, Reborn is starting to notice that Tsuna is a little odd, but the extent of it is still beyond him right now, but he's starting to understand that maybe, maybe his methods aren't working.

Dino is pretty much caught in the crossfire between Tsuna and Reborn. Reborn didn't really tell him anything about his new student. He's confused and pretty much in awe of Tsuna right now.

Also, Reborn and Dino don't really know that Tsuna told Nana about the mafia, or what Tsubird's real species is. They just guess he was some random red bird.

Extra Info: Romario's daemon was pretty much ignored, but it's a Convolvulus Hawkmoth.

Next Chapter | Previous Chapter

Daemon’s Fate on AO3

#khr #fanfiction #sawada nana #sawada tsunayoshi #daemon's fate #vongola #tenth #daemons #ao3

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biandnotinthemood · 7 years ago

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Take Me Out (Part 2)

Summary: You try to make the most of your family dragging you to live in Hawkins, Indiana with them by spending your time working and bar-hopping with your new friends. One night, you meet Billy Hargrove at a party.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Bi!Latina!Reader

Warning: Language, Drug/Alcohol Mention

A/N: Just so y’all know, this fic isn’t going to have a clean linear plot. Consider it a collection of drabbles set in the same universe and released in chronological order.

It was a normal Saturday night for you: drinking hard liquor, dancing with strangers, and singing along to aggressive rock in David’s car. Billy was the new addition and, while David had had a lot of shit to say to you about dragging Billy “Psycho-Fuck” Hargrove along on a night of sinning and debauchery with your little group, the night was actually going really well. Well, mostly.

You slammed down your empty shot glass, wiping the burning whiskey off your chin as David cheered you on and helped you stand. The room felt like it was rocking under your feet, but everything was warm and inviting and you wanted to walk over to where Billy was sitting a couple of bar stools down and make him dance with you. Back in Miami, most of your nights would end on the beach with you and your friends dancing and drinking rum straight out of the bottle. Shaking your head to shake off the memories, you allowed yourself to slip into the small group shaking in a darker corner of the seedy bar. Sure, you’d been groped a few too many times, but that was the price of admittance. You brushed your messy hair back, catching Billy’s gaze across the bar and smiling when he tipped his beer bottle at you with a smirk.

Billy Hargrove had a sweet face. Something about it reminded you of the spicy tamarind candies you used to eat at Laura’s house back home. You’d spent most of the night watching it as the whiskey in your seemingly bottomless glass blurred the edges of your thoughts. If he didn’t like the attention, he hadn’t mentioned it to you. He’d shown up to your department the day before, flirting with you like it was going out of style, doing that thing with his tongue that both grossed you out and turned you on, and watching you work from where he was leaned against the case with a sly smile on his face. What he found attractive about watching you debone a bunch of chickens with blood stains all over your white coat, you’d never understand. You’d looked like shit the last time he saw you, too, so maybe he just thought you’d be too thankful for the attention to make him work for it.

Joke’s on him. You’d been called a lot of things back in Miami, but never easy.

The music wasn’t very good. It almost never was, but you weren’t going to spend money on a jukebox when you could spend money on liquor instead. You almost hadn’t even come out tonight. Thank god you’d ignored your mom fucking guilt-tripping you like she always did. The day you stayed home to babysit your grandma on a Saturday night would be the day you shot yourself in the head with your sister’s stripper pistol. You were glad you’d gone out anyway, you were glad you were drunk with “Dirty Dave” and the guys, you were glad you’d invited Billy to tag along. Still, telling yourself that still didn’t stop the tiny nagging guilt from stirring in your chest.

Nope. Fuck that. Saturday nights were for getting fun drunk, Sunday nights were for getting sad drunk. David was the only one who could handle you like that anyway. Literally. Not even you could handle yourself when you were drunk-crying about your bullshit life. You stumbled over to your boys, swaying in place and telling them that you were going to hit up the gas station on the corner to buy yourself a Coke. “Dicky Ricky” offered to go with you, and you would’ve said yes if Billy hadn’t stepped in.

“I’ve been wanting to go outside for a smoke anyway,” he said.

“Alright, Hargrove, let’s go.” You tried your best to make your voice sound sweet, since you’d pretty much been avoiding the kid all night. The two of you made your way out of the bar, Billy holding the door open for you with one hand. It was a nice night, but still too cold for you to really appreciate. You wondered if you were ever going to get used to life up here. Even back in the Summer when your family had first arrived in Hawkins, you’d worn your thickest sweaters in the middle of the day. These people really thought that 80 degrees was hot, but back in Miami, that was just life. You’d walked to school in 90 degree weather during both your junior and senior year. Whenever it hit 60, everybody you knew was breaking out their winter wear, yourself included.

“Hey, you want some?” Billy asked, holding his half-empty beer bottle out to you and you shook your head.

“I don’t drink beer. I think it’s gross.” You also didn’t share drinks, but you didn’t need to tell him that.

“Damn,” he chuckled. “Well, it’s all I drink.”

“I’m sorry,” you joked, smiling sweetly up at him as he finished off his drink and threw the empty bottle down. You didn’t even flinch when it shattered. “Are you having fun tonight?”

“I’d be having more fun if the pretty girl who invited me was talking to me, but well…” He shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. “I can’t win them all, I guess.”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who gives up so easily.” You were already at the gas station and he rushed to pull the door open.

“Oh, I’m not, sweetheart. But I know there’s going to be a next time.”

“Oh, do you?” You slipped past him, making a beeline for the small cooler by the cashier. He pulled up right next to you and you could feel the heat of his body against your right shoulder. His cologne was overpowering, but it suited him.

“Of course. That’s why I’ve been on my best behavior on our first date.”

You squinted up at him, your mouth open a little bit in disbelief. “First date?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, leaning a little closer to you. You didn’t bother moving, instead focusing on measuring out your breaths so he wouldn’t know your heart was racing.

“This is Billy Hargrove’s idea of a first date? Going out to some dirty bar with me and my friends?” You scoffed, fighting the urge to laugh in his face. “Damn, you really are in high school,” you muttered, turning away from him and grabbing a can of Coke from the cooler.

“Is that why you haven’t been talking to me?” When you stomped over to the cashier and pulled out a wrinkly $10 bill, he followed you like a shadow.

“It’s just a little creepy, don’t you think?”

“I actually think it’s kind of hot,” he said, his voice low and smoother than velvet. God, that fucking voice… You paid and thanked the cashier before darting out of the store without waiting for Billy to open the door for you. The cold night air felt like ice against your flushed skin. The door jingled when he jogged out after you.

“God, you’re in high school,” you muttered, shaking your head in disgust. “You probably have, like… geeky school projects and college application essays and bullshit like that. Ugh. That’s why you had that fake ID.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, how’d you drink when you were younger?”

Bartenders had almost never checked you and bouncers had always looked the other way. You were a small girl and even at 21, you still looked 16. Having a girl who looked underage getting wasted in a bar or nightclub was good for business, but you weren’t going to lay that all out for Billy because, honestly, why the hell would he care? “That’s not important.”

“So, what, you don’t want to see me anymore?” He was starting to sound annoyed and he finally pulled out his pack of Lucky Strikes. You didn’t even look at him, instead picking through the pocket of the enormous bomber jacket David had given you when he picked you up. He said he’d had it since he was 15, but the guy was a titan so it ended almost at your knees. It really felt more like a coat.

“I didn’t say that. Jesus, relax,” you grumbled, plucking a menthol cigarette out of your small silver case and holding it between your teeth. “All I’m saying is, I don’t know yet, okay? I just need some time to think about it. Can you handle that? Are you mature enough to handle that, high school boy?”

Billy visibly bristled at your tone, taking a deep breath through his flared nostrils before giving you a tight smile. “You know I am.” You snorted, looking out at the road while he lit his cigarette. It was dark, all these roads up here were dark and winding like a tangled ball of black yarn. You couldn’t see past the little pools of yellow streetlight, but you knew there was a forest just beyond the asphalt. At least in Miami, the swamp was contained and everyone knew where it was. Up here, the forest was everywhere and you hated it. It didn’t bother you that Billy had a temper, it didn’t bother you at all. You had a temper, too, and you knew you could handle whatever he thought he could dish out. What mattered was that he didn’t feel like he was from this dirty, washed out place where nothing ever seemed to happen and nobody ever seemed to change. “Want me to light you up?” Billy’s voice cut into your thoughts and you jolted. There was already a thick veil of smoke between the two of you, and it made you feel more comfortable being partially hidden from his icy-hot gaze. You nodded and he stepped into your little bubble of space, his warm hand on yours as he lit your cigarette. “What’s your brand?” he asked once the two of you had started walking towards the bar again.

“American Spirit.”

“I didn’t know you could buy that hippie shit in Hawkins.”

“You can’t. I brought a bunch with me when I moved.”

He slid you a lopsided grin. “I figured you weren’t from this shithole.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, blowing out a thin plume of smoke and blinking rapidly when some of it got stuck in your eyes.

“You actually know how to have a good time.”

You laughed and when the two of you got to the bar, you both decided to stay outside for a little while longer. He didn’t ask where you were from and you didn’t ask where he was from. Instead, you mostly talked about music and movies. Billy was excited about the new Aerosmith album that was coming out in November, while you were more excited about the Despeche Mode compilation coming out at the same time. Thankfully, neither of you liked Madonna or Michael Jackson. You weren’t sure what his deal with them was, but you’d rather nail your tongue to a wooden table than listen to either of them outside of one very specific context: cleaning the house with your mom and sister on a Sunday morning with that shitty, shitty music blasting from the speakers in your living room. Your favorite movie was Carrie and his was The Shining, so at least you both liked horror.

“Jesus, [Y/N], are you okay?” Billy asked when he finally heard your teeth clattering. You shrugged, hugging David’s jacket tighter against your torso.

“I’m fucking freezing.”

“Do you want to go back inside?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

He chuckled, pushing himself off the brick wall you’d both been leaning against. “I’d offer you my jacket, but I don’t think it would help.”

“It wouldn’t. What I need is to be set on fire.” You fumbled with your words through hard shivers as you followed him back to the entrance of the bar.

“Man, you are going to love Winter.”

“Wow, shut up,” you snapped, rushing inside as soon as he opened the door.

David dropped him off at his house on Union street, speeding away as soon as Billy was done leaning in through the passenger window and making cow eyes at you. At least you’d gotten his number before he was left in the dust, but he was very specific about when you were allowed to call. That was fine. When you’d first given David your number, you told him never to call at all unless it was Monday after sundown. You ended up spending the night at David’s, crashing as soon as your head touched his pillows. His mom wasn’t crazy about the two of you sharing a bed at first, but she’d come to like you over the past few months and you knew she felt confident that you weren’t “one of those” kinds of girls. You thought it was stupid, but you were still perfectly polite. After all, like your mom had always taught you, no se puede mandar en casa ajena.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #stranger things fic #billy hargrove fic #stranger things fanfic #billy hargrove fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #mine

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jordan202 · 8 years ago

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My Boys Drabbles - Lucas (Part Three)

Here goes a fast update! Thank you everyone from the amazing responses I’ve been getting with this story. @jia911 you were an angel, as usual!

If you need to catch up on previous parts, the links are HERE.

My Boys Drabbles – Lucas (Part Three)

Amelia tapped her foot uncontrollably, trying to contain her anxiety. She had been up before six that morning and the three hours that separated her waking hour from the scheduled appointment to get an ultrasound felt like a lifetime.

Even though Amelia was having regular appointments with the chief obstetrician at the hospital, she reported mostly to Addison, engaging in weekly conversations over the phone with her friend. Now, Amelia was at thirteen weeks, and it would be the first time she would see her baby ever since they’d first gotten the exam that had confirmed her pregnancy.

Owen sat still by her side, his expression of serenity unaltered. Amelia knew he was tense because of the vein pulsating on his forehead and his clenched jaw, but even though he was broodier than usual, he had spent the first hours of the morning making an effort to make her feel calm and at ease.

She attributed his unusual seriousness to anxiety too. Amelia knew that Owen was probably just as scared as she was about the ultrasound results, but he was being tough for the two of them. The fact that Owen took the responsibility of being the rock that kept them grounded made Amelia admire and appreciate him even more.

“Are you nervous?” She asked with a sweet voice, reaching out for his hand.

Owen had been distractedly examining the wall, looking lost in his own thoughts, but at the sound of her voice he immediately shifted his attention. Holding onto the hand she was offering, he gave it a gentle squeeze before smiling at her:

“I am sure everything is alright.”

Amelia noticed he didn’t exactly answer her question, but she didn’t push it, knowing it was harder for him to open up about fears and insecurities. At exactly 9 am, the radiology technician walked into the room and kindly instructed Amelia on how she would proceed with the exam.

Those few seconds between applying the gel and correctly positioning the ultrasound probe to get a clear image felt like the longest of Amelia’s life. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until, at the image of a perfectly healthy baby, her eyes swelled with tears and she found it harder to breathe.

“There it is…” The technician cheerfully spoke, completely oblivious to how tense those two parents really were with the result of that exam. “There is the spinal column, the head, heartbeat looks strong…”

But everything else the woman rambled on wasn’t assimilated by Amelia because all she could focus on was the image of the perfect miniature human moving on the screen. Her healthy little baby wouldn’t stop making jerky movements, flexing its tiny arms and legs as if bouncing around. It was still too early for her to feel any of that, but what really caught Amelia’s attention was the presence of every vital organ.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the screen and didn’t notice that Owen had leaned over until he planted a kiss on her temple, also letting out a deep breath. Instantly, Amelia turned her head sideways and when their eyes met, a profound smile of utter happiness and relief was born on both of their faces.

Amelia silently thanked every power in the universe for that amazing gift of life and laughed between tears observing her baby while the technician took notes and measurements.

“Everything is exactly how it should be,” The woman informed them with a polite smile. I’ll send these results to your ob and you can discuss it with him on your next appointment. Have you scheduled it yet?”

Amelia nodded affirmatively and gladly agreed when the woman asked if she wanted a copy of the exam to keep. Smiling from ear to ear, she left the exam room beside Owen, both looking at the black and white image of their perfect child.

“He looks so beautiful,” Amelia commented with a happy smile, even though rationally she knew there was absolutely no way she could judge beauty in a colorless profile picture of their baby.

“He?” Owen winked mischievously, giving her a halfhearted smile.

“Well, it was just a way of speaking, really. That answer is going to be left for the following sonogram,” Amelia cheerfully replied, unable to stop staring at her baby.

“I can’t wait,” Owen said with a grin and when Amelia looked up at him, she couldn’t help wondering if he really had that shadow of sadness behind his eyes, despite all the sincere happiness he’d showed about their baby. “So, I’ll see you at home?”

Amelia nodded yes with her head and watched as Owen bent over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before walking away. Even though he was very affectionate at home, Owen was a very private guy, not very inclined to gratuitous public displays of affection. Still, he was usually warmer when greeting or saying goodbye to her and Amelia wondered if she was being too sensitive about his attitude.

But when her eyes once again met the image she still held in her hand, Amelia’s thoughts completely vanished, focusing entirely on their child again and the incredible notion that her baby was as healthy as it could be.

For the following week, Amelia tried to convince herself she was seeing too much into things, but truth was that Owen felt more distant and quieter by the day. Initially, she had imagined his behavior had to do with anxiety about finding out about their baby but after careful thinking, she realized he had started acting quite not like himself after the eve of their ultrasound day, when they’d had a heartfelt conversation about their fears.

If Amelia were to be truly honest, the talk had mostly been about her fears. She hoped that insight would help her figure out where Owen’s mood change was coming from but after carefully replaying their conversation in her head, she still couldn’t. At first, her husband had opened up and admitted he wasn’t used to relinquishing control, which was something she already knew. Then he’d gone on to tell her he was trying to control his bossy manners in the best way he could. After that, most of the conversation had been about her own traumas and bad experiences.

Amelia knew about Owen’s loss of a child because months before, when they’d been flying back from Los Angeles after she’d run away, he had shared about that painful moment in his life. So Amelia completely understood his fear about whether or not he would get to be a father to that baby she was carrying. She expected that especially after seeing her latest sonogram, his excitement would only increase. But even though Owen was all smiles when talking about the baby, he had been acting more careful than ever when it concerned her. Even physically, he had been more distant. Amelia wondered if her husband realized how uncomfortable he looked when she approached him. The notion had devastated her.

Amelia was completely on board with the idea of them talking things through every time something was off and she had truly believed Owen was willing to live through that philosophy too, considering he had been the one to suggest it several times in the past. She had grown to believe their level of intimacy was at its best, but clearly Owen still had something he wasn’t sharing with her.

Determined to make him talk about whatever it was that was bothering him, Amelia left the hospital a little earlier that afternoon. She knew her talents as a cook were limited and settled for picking up dinner on her way home instead. Knowing Owen’s preferences, she chose his favorite dishes on purpose, hoping it would lighten his mood enough to maybe make him more comfortable to talk.

But Owen stayed quiet through most of the meal, opening his mouth mostly to thank her for taking care of dinner that evening. Then he asked his standard questions about how she was feeling and how her day in the OR had been. Realizing she couldn’t take that heavy atmosphere lurking around them anymore, Amelia decided to take the first step.

“You know, I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit off lately,” She carefully initiated the subject, hoping he wouldn’t get too defensive. “I have this feeling that something is bothering you and yet you don’t seem to want to talk about it. Should I be worried?” Amelia asked, hoping with all her heart that he would be honest with her.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Owen smiled at her, but deep down he knew that smile wasn’t genuine. He couldn’t confess to Amelia what kind of thoughts had been haunting him lately. It would just make him look pathetic and she deserved better, especially in a moment as special as the one they were sharing. “Are you done eating? I got the dishes.”

Amelia watched in silence as he broke eye contact with her and quickly got up, keeping himself busy with taking their plates to the kitchen. She stood still for a while and didn’t notice her hand reflexively rested on her belly while she carefully considered how to assess the situation.

“You know,” She let out a heavy sigh, giving up completely on rationalizing what she was going to say. As usual, she would just let the words come from the heart. “I think it’s really unfair to me that you demand I talk to you whenever I’m worked up about something and yet you won’t do the same when it’s you that has a problem.”

Owen had his hands inside the sink as he scrubbed a glass with his back turned to her. He absorbed the meaning of her words and carefully processed them, taking a deep breath before turning around to meet her gaze.

“I am not worked up about anything, Amelia,” He lied. “I am just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well the past week and I am just more stressed than usual. I’m sorry if I’m taking it out on you. I didn’t realize I was.”

She stared back at him obviously not buying his excuse and it broke Owen’s heart to notice the sharp pain in her eyes when she figured he was refusing to talk. Judging what he knew about her, it probably meant she was looking for fault in herself to justify just why Owen wouldn’t talk to her. He kept his firm attitude and watched as she walked away slowly, mumbling something about emailing Addison the results of her latest blood work.

Amelia spent the rest of the evening sitting on the couch with her laptop propped on her knees, typing and reading while Owen watched TV. It wasn’t uncommon for them to sit in silence next to each other, but in that moment there was some previously inexistent tension in the air. Amelia noticed it too, and it didn’t take her long to get up with some excuse as to why she was retiring to bed earlier that night.

Owen watched with a constricted heart as his wife walked past him, only nodding her head after wishing him goodnight. She hadn’t kissed him as usual, probably because she knew he was keeping distant. For minutes, Owen stayed in front of the TV with the remote in his hand, but his mind wasn’t assimilating anything the reporter on the news was saying.

Instead, he was debating with himself if he would ever find the strength to share his insecurities with his wife. The truth was, Owen didn’t want to talk about it because his own feelings embarrassed him. It was stupid and totally irrational to compare himself with the memory of a person, not to mention completely unproductive. And at the same time, Owen knew Amelia was probably hurting with being left in the dark, possibly conjecturing about what was wrong with her when the truth was that the fault and weakness were entirely on him.

Unable to put up with that angst any longer, Owen violently turned off the TV and threw the remote aside, getting up from the couch to go to bed, even though he didn’t feel the least bit inclined to fall asleep. He entered the bedroom expecting Amelia to be resting already but he could tell her eyes were wide open, even though she was lying opposite with her back turned to him.

Owen sat on the edge of his side of the bed, taking a deep breath to control his feelings. He hated to feel that insecure, but he also hated to be putting the woman he loved and cared so much about through something she didn’t deserve. Amelia had already suffered enough being neglected all her life. The least she deserved was honesty.

“I did not divorce Cristina because she aborted my baby.”

Amelia heard the words breaking the silence in the room long after she’d felt Owen sitting on the other side of the mattress. It was clear he had been struggling and when she gently shifted to her side, searching for his face in the darkness, she heard his somber voice speaking on a deep note.

“I know you probably think I did. Maybe all the versions of my failed marriage you’ve heard from me or anyone else have that event as the trigger moment for our separation, but it wasn’t the real reason why I divorced her.”

Amelia slowly sat on the soft mattress, confused as to why Owen was bringing up that subject, but fairly certain there was a point to all of that.

“Truth is,” Owen turned around and for the first time their eyes met, even though the room was nearly engulfed in total darkness. “Our marriage probably wouldn’t have worked out even if she kept that baby,” He confessed, shaking his head defensively. “She never truly wanted to be a mother and if she had forced herself to it, I would have loved to have been a father but I believe I’d slowly grow to resent her for not being the person I wanted her to be. She never wanted a family. And it would maybe be too late to take a step back if we already had a child,” Owen debated, nodding his head in denial. “I don’t know, this is all just hypothetical but my point is,” He stared deeply into Amelia’s eyes. “I realize we wanted completely different things in life because our deepest wishes and priorities are completely opposite.” Owen breathed in and out slowly, hoping his wife was able to follow his trail of thought. “I am not saying there is a right or wrong, I am just saying there either is compatibility or not. And Cristina and I were completely incompatible.”

Amelia acknowledged the information with a head nod, showing she was keeping up with him. She was about to ask why he was telling her all of that when his voice resonated again:

“I have been through so much before and I truly believe these past experiences helped me become the person I am today, the same way I believe you also do. But the thing is, it took Cristina terminating a pregnancy for me to act on something I already had realized and even though it felt like it was too late at the time, today I see it wasn’t. I hesitated a lot at first because I had convinced myself I could make her change her opinions and desires, but once I truly let go and accepted I couldn’t, I saw I made the right decision. I’m glad I did it,” Owen nervously ran one hand through his hair and slowly moved on the bed so he could frontally face Amelia. “The thing is, before you and I hit it off, I was already past all of that. I had willingly walked away from it. But…” He hesitated, finally getting to the point he had been trying to reach, “even though I knew you met other people after you lost your loved one, you never chose to end that relationship.”

Amelia frowned heavily, wondering what in the world Owen meant by that. It was true she had never broken up with Ryan because they had been together when he’d died. But she didn’t see why it was relevant at that moment.

“Maybe,” Amelia interrupted his speech, confused about where he was trying to get. Was it possible that Owen was saying she still had unresolved feelings for a man that even though had meant a lot once, she hardly thought about anymore? “But it doesn’t change the fact that it’s a past relationship too. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Maybe it does,” Owen somberly replied, looking away from her. He knew it was fair to compare people but internally, he knew his marriage to Amelia had been an upgrade from his past. And he wasn’t sure she felt the same.

Amelia watched as he visibly struggled. Feeling like he needed incentive to resume speaking, she asked:

“What do you mean?” Her tone was sweet and free of judgment. “How could it matter now, Owen? We’re together. It’s just you and me now. No one else,” She reinforced, trying to show he was the only person who occupied her thoughts and a place in her heart.

“I make mistakes, Amelia.” Owen answered after longs seconds of heavy breathing. “I never mean to hurt you, but eventually, I will. Every now and then I will be angry or upset or hurt and I will say something that I’ll regret later. Or I’ll do something that will unintentionally cause you pain.” He hesitated but ultimately turned around again, facing her this time. “I will make mistakes.”

“Yes,” Amelia gave him a gentle head nod. “I know.” She assured him, moving closer to him on the bed. “I know all of that. I will too. That’s a normal part of any relationship.”

Once again, Owen stayed in complete silent, finally accepting her touch. Amelia noticed that he didn’t flinch or pull away when her fingers touched his arm and encouraged by that response, she came closer, touching her forehead to his shoulder.

“What’s wrong, babe?” She hoped to break down his defenses with sweet affection. Talking hadn’t worked so far because up to that point he had mostly rambled and ran in circles around the subject. Amelia was happy that he had shared everything he’d told her, but she still hadn’t found a concrete reason for his lack of peace of mind in the past days. “Are you upset that I loved another man? Is that it?” She rubbed his arm affectionately, bringing her face up to look into his eyes.

“No,” Owen answered with honesty. “I’m actually…” He struggled, hating to feel so unusually vulnerable. “You once had this person in your life who has only made you happy and stayed by your side. You didn’t spend much time with him but judging from what I hear, he has never wronged you. That’s the parameter you have,” He embarrassingly listed, feeling a stabbing pain in his heart. “I am never going to be able to give you that, Amelia. I will never be perfect. And I can’t help but wonder if maybe at some point you will resent me for it like I resented someone once.”

Amelia looked deeply into his eyes, trying to see the whole picture and make sense of it.

The breaking point to send Owen to a distant place in their relationship had been exactly when they’d started discussing her previous relationship a few days before. Owen had asked her questions about her feelings and then he’d spent the following time quietly processing everything. He had told her about his ex wife and the abortion she’d had, something that had clearly affected him very much. Amelia knew Owen and she was sure that, because of his tendency of blaming himself, he would be asking where he’d gone wrong for his marriage to have collapsed, even if rationally he knew it was plain incompatibility. And then he’d hesitantly admitted that he wasn’t perfect and he was never going to be.

Amelia knew that and she appreciated it. Owen was usually strong and it was rare to see him admitting insecurities like that. She admired the fact he had shared them with her, especially knowing how much he dreaded opening up about his feelings. But he couldn’t really be afraid that she would resent him for not being Ryan. He was completely different and Amelia had a feeling that that was exactly what had drawn her to him in the first place.

“Do you remember what I said when I asked you to marry me?” Amelia held his face between her hands, looking deeply into his eyes. Owen’s expression was a mix of embarrassment and apprehension and she felt compelled to continue. “I said I wanted something real.” She reinforced the word, so he could get the meaning behind all of that. “I meant exactly what I said.”

Amelia leaned forward and Owen reflexively closed his eyes. She kissed his temple and his cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck, gently caressing the hair on the back of his head while she once again forced eye contact with him.

“I was once in a relationship with a person who was as sick as I was. I had no idea what it meant to have responsibility or a plan and neither did him. He wasn’t capable of taking care of himself, let alone taking care of a baby. Sure, he did everything I wanted,” Amelia admitted, feeling tears building in her eyes at the memory of how screwed up she had once been. “But I think neither of us had any idea what I needed.” She confessed, hoping with all her heart that Owen would acknowledge the importance of that. “I was so out of my mind all the time that everything felt like a blissful fantasy,” Amelia confessed. Before her dark moments in rehab, she’d spent most of her time with Ryan too high to tell apart what was real and what had been just euphoria caused by the drugs. “Those days are behind me, Owen. I don’t want to feel like that anymore,” She confessed, referring to the addiction induced state of mind.

“You’re okay now,” He reached out, wrapping one arm behind her waist to bring her closer.

“I am,” Amelia used his own logic to make him see it. “I am okay now. I don’t need you to do everything I want, Owen. Not that you would, anyway,” She smiled at him, because they both knew he wasn’t at all the kind of person who would enable her if he thought she was screwing up. He respected her too much for that. “I don’t want us to spend the entire day in bed making a million plans for the rest of our lives while we snort something between every two sentences. Because it feels so much better when we’re actually putting those plans into action,” Amelia grabbed her husband’s hand and took it to her belly in a very meaningful gesture. “When you go to bed at night and you hold me I know that I am going to wake up in the morning and you’re still going to be there,” She felt tears accumulated in her eyes. “I know that when I do something stupid such as picking up a tool of boxes or trying to set up a bed and setting it on fire, you are going to be there to stop me,” She added, making him laugh at the reference of the time she’d tried to get rid of termites by burning them and he’d forcefully taken the box of matches from her hands. “You not only make me happy, Owen, you make me feel safe,” She confessed, bending over to touch his forehead with hers, closing her eyes as she breathed him in, still feeling one of his hands on her lower abdomen. Safety was something Amelia had never experienced before and she could honestly say it was wonderful to be in that position. “And I know that you’re always going to be here for us,” She whispered, nudging his nose with hers affectionately. “I love how you take care of me, even when I complain that I don’t need it. It’s all a lie,” She let out a discreet chuckle, seeing he was relaxing too. “I wouldn’t change what we have for anything.”

Owen let out a breath he had no idea he’d been holding and buried his face on the crook of her neck, feeling his defenses being completely overtaken by her heartfelt confession. He loved that woman with all his heart and the fact that she had said with so much conviction that she was sure he would never fail to be there for her just made him promise to himself one more time that he would never let her down.

“I am sorry for being so pathetic about this whole situation,” Owen kissed her cheek, feeling her hands digging deeper through his hair. “I want more than anything to make you happy.”

“You already do,” Amelia looked at him affectionately, absolutely happy and relieved that he’d finally talked to her. Her relationship with Owen was the best she’d ever had in her life and for the first time, she felt like she had a shot at being happy and at peace. Owen had defects but she loved him with each one of them and Amelia wouldn’t change a thing about him. “You know what?” She slid her hands across the back of his head towards his jaw line and gently brushed her thumbs on his cheeks. “Don’t feel like you’re second best at anything because you’re actually the best thing that has ever happened to me.” She confessed with full honesty. “I knew that after being knocked over by life so many times I would finally get something good and I did because I found you. And I’m glad that we chose to give this a chance,” Amelia smiled with blissful honesty. That time, the feeling was not fabricated by narcotics, but instead, completely real. “And if I could choose again a hundred times, then a hundred times I’d choose you.”

Her words were Owen’s undoing and completely touched by the meaning of her words, he felt the purest emotions bursting inside of him as he captured her lips with his, crushing them with the intensity of his feelings.

“I don’t want there to be any secrets between us,” Amelia confessed when they pulled apart. She and Owen had grown a lot and he deserved to know that he was everything she’d always dreamed of. Amelia had made the mistake of running away on their wedding day and then again when she’d felt insecure about starting a family but she had come back both times because he was exactly what she wanted. Secrets led to doubts, which evolved to insecurity and that had caused her to run more than once. With Owen’s devoted support, Amelia had overcome all of that and she knew what they had was absolutely genuine and based on mutual trust.

“Me neither,” Owen smiled at his wife with a proud look on his face. She was the best person he’d ever met and yet she had no idea just how amazing she was. Not because she was self deprecating, but because Amelia was genuinely humble and kind. Her resilience and strength inspired him to want to be better too. “I love you,” He confessed, looking deeply into her eyes as he said the words.

“Me too,” Amelia snuggled up closer to him, enjoying that new level of intimacy that had been established between them. Without any secrets left, they were free to be exactly who they were, knowing they would be deeply appreciated by their truest versions. That was a feeling like no other.

“I just have one small correction to make, though,” Owen looked into her eyes as he laid down next to her, slowly caressing her body. Amelia noticed the change in his tone of voice and smiled, anticipating what was about to come. “We’re together but it’s not just you and me anymore,” His hand splayed on the small bump that was starting to show on her lower belly. “We have company now,” He said teasingly, rubbing her skin with devoted affection.

Amelia smiled widely and agreed with a head nod. Two had become three and she couldn’t help but thinking how amazing it was that love was able to multiply when you shared it.

Amelia placed her hand on top of his and smiled as she laid on her lower back, watching as Owen propped his head on his elbow to look at her while he admired their growing child.

“Do you think it’s a girl or a boy?” He asked with blissful contentment.

“I don’t know…” Amelia confessed with a wide smile. She didn’t really have a preference. All she cared about was that their baby was born healthy. “People have asked me that question saying that mothers usually have a good personal guess but to be honest I have no idea.”

“I wish it was one of each,” Owen randomly said with total honesty, making her crack up laughing.

“Are you insane?” Amelia asked with good mood, giggling when Owen bent over and kissed her belly. “Carrying one is already hard enough, I can’t imagine carrying two,” She smiled at him, noticing the spark of happiness in his crystal blue eyes. “One at a time, please.” The neurosurgeon added, completely oblivious to what the future held for them.

“Does this mean we’re having another one soon?” He brought his face up and returned her smile, unable to hide just how excited he was at the idea.

“What, we haven’t had this one yet and you’re already thinking of the next?” Amelia couldn’t contain her laughter, touched by his contagious joy.

“I want as many as you can give me,” He said with a charming smile, but deep down it was absolutely true and Amelia knew it.

“Then be ready for a full house,” She rolled over to his side, seeking his embrace as her own arms wrapped around him.

Owen rejoiced at the idea with his eyes closed as he settled against his wife, nestling his nose into her hair. The familiar scent of her vanilla shampoo numbed his senses and he rubbed her back gently as they lay together on the bed, snuggling close to each other.

He fell asleep with a smile on his lips, realizing that once again, talking to Amelia had paid off a great deal. Even though he would probably always still have a hard time connecting with himself long enough to understand what he was feeling and talking about it, Amelia had repeatedly proven to him that it was definitely worth it. He finally felt like there were no barriers or walls left standing between them. It was all out in the open now. Amelia had exposed her soul to him several times before and tonight he’d finally done the same. The result had been incredible.

And now, more than ever, Owen felt ready to embark full head on that amazing experience that parenthood surely was, absolutely certain that he had the right person on his side to share what would be the wildest and most fulfilling adventure of their lives.

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