#and *someone* heard them talking about wedding dresses and decided to try preying on someone

[creamecream]

“Hang on a moment there, miss! might I interest a lovely dame like yourself in a small chat with a simple business man?”

“...Maggy, you can go on ahead. I won’t be long.”

[thesolferino]

Favor

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, fluff

⤷ word count: 8.4k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a day. things only seem to go downhill from there.

It started as a favor.

On a quiet night in your apartment when you stared at your phone for way longer than your eyes could physically take and rolled around on the bed, talking to one of your best internet friends, Dream, he asked you for a favor. His voice was muffled through the mic on his phone, the one connected to his computer way cleaner, but neither of you could bother getting off FaceTime and call on Discord instead - yet you still heard him loud and clear, because you burst out laughing right after.

“What the hell did you just say?” you laughed, turning on your stomach and opening the call, now entirely focused on the timer that counted every second you spent talking to him instead of your Twitter timeline.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t make me repeat it!” And for that sole reason, you wanted him to repeat it, loud and clear.

“Is this why you were so insistent on me coming down to Florida? So I could pretend to be your girlfriend at your cousin’s wedding so your family doesn’t think you’re a loser?” you laughed, finding the situation entirely absurd as he sputtered, words mashing together, trying to defend himself.

“No! No, I wanted you to come here because we’re friends and I-I wanna meet you, this is just a… benefit, of sorts.” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder at his poor attempt of trying to save face.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” you chuckle. “What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want.” he responded, much too quick. Your eyebrows raised.

“Whatever I want?” you parroted.

“Yes.” he confirmed. “I’ll buy you something, if you want; I’ll even pay you-”

“Pay me?! I’m not a whore, Dream!” 

“That is not AT ALL what I was saying!” he cut in, yelling as you burst into a new fit of laughter. “It’s just… I sort of already told them I have a girlfriend and I was just hoping you’d say yes ‘cause it’s gonna be very awkward if I show up without the girlfriend in question.” 

You put your head in your hands and he sort of dryly laughed at himself when he heard your palm hit your forehead. “What is wrong with you, man?” 

“Listen, it’s not gonna be so bad! Just stay by my side for a bit, look pretty, we’ll get some drinks, and then dip. That’s it, I promise.” he reasoned.

“And here I thought we were gonna make out in front of everyone. What’s a fake relationship if we don’t make a show out of it?” you sarcastically snickered, and could practically see his eyeroll from miles away.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it, by all means.” he replied and you laughed, shaking your head in mild disbelief.

“Alright, well, if you already told them, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you huffed, pretending to be way more bummed out about it than you really were. “I’ll do it.” 

“Thank you so much, oh my God.” he replied and you chuckled at the sheer relief in his voice.

A few seconds of silence pass. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you want me to publicly embarrass myself in exchange for this favor?”

“Personally, I think that forcing you to tweet that tweet about pissing yourself in bed again and also tweeting that everyone should subscribe to me isn’t “publicly embarrassing” at all.” 

“Maybe I should’ve picked a different fake girlfriend.”

“Sucks to suck, pissbaby.”

The weeks leading up to your meetup felt like years, with every treacherous minute of you two talking over muffled mics and shitty webcams feeling longer than it should, your empty apartment feeling emptier and emptier by the day. Was it even possible to miss a person you hadn’t even met yet? 

It turns out that it very much was, because as soon as the painfully long weeks were up and you were finally metres away from him, you jumped in his arms like a woman finally seeing her soldier husband after the war, standing on your tiptoes while he bent down the best he could to hug you back. His chest rumbled with a warm laugh when you turned your head ever so slightly towards his ear.

“Hello, boyfriend.” And just like that, the warm turned into a groan of faux annoyance while you burst into laughter and he pulled away, scanning your face with an equally annoyed look.

“I should’ve never asked you for that. You’re never letting it go, are you?” Yeah, you were kind of annoying with the amount of corny boyfriend jokes you threw his way - you had to give him that. But then again, he crafted his own fate and now he must accept the consequences.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise your majesty wasn’t appreciating the work I’m doing! I just won’t show up at that wedding, how about that?” you bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re such an idiot.” he laughed. “Give me those bags.”

A blissful week had passed, and he hadn’t pissed you off in real life nearly as much as you thought he would. It took a bit of getting used to to his family calling him Clay instead of his beloved internet username, and you did get a couple of suggestive looks from his mother the first few times she visited - you had a couple of “eye conversations” in which she never exactly asked if you were his girlfriend, and you never exactly denied it, but you knew both of you felt the weight of the unspoken words yet you had to keep everything secret and ambiguous. Or at least you thought you did, before he revealed to you that he told his mom the two of you were dating already. Seems like the glances were knowing and not questioning. Maybe you weren’t as good at eye conversation as previously thought.

Living with him was fine, mostly because he had godly air conditioning and a house that was probably way too big for him, and also a very cute cat that followed you everywhere and made living with a man for a full two weeks way more bearable. Finding out that he can’t cook was one of the most bizarre revelations about him that you’d had in the years of your friendship, and you demanded he watched as you made chicken wraps. You complained about how he was 21 and couldn’t cook for himself, he complained about how it’s 2021 and he can just order from Chipotle or something, dude.

A week of goofing around and trying to hide the fact the two of you temporarily lived together from the internet had passed quicker than it should’ve, and for the first time in seven days, Netflix was turned off and the two of you were dressing up for the wedding, ready to set off with his parents and younger sister. He spent ages trying to convince you to match with him, which was quite literally impossible because he wore a black suit and you brought a red dress, which resulted in the two of you roaming around a local mall at 10 am, half asleep, looking for a reasonably formal black dress, because of course Dream always got his way.

An hour of arguing and your fashion tastes clashing later, you picked an off shoulder black dress with a high slit, along with a pair of pumps, both of which you forced him to pay for, and went back home, ready to glam both of you up as much as humanly possible because you were not ready to let him show up in some horrendous pair of shoes and claim to be your boyfriend. 

“Is this okay?” you questioned, turning from the mirror to face him and let him be the judge of your shimmery black and white eyelids, spending way too much time on a makeup look for a wedding of someone whose name you didn’t even know. He blinked at you as his judging gaze washed over you like a wave, scanning you up and down while you nervously cocked your head, leg tapping in faux impatient annoyance to cover up the fact that you felt like prey under his eyes. 

“It’s… yeah, it is. You look good.” Dream confirmed, nodding his head at you in a movement that was way too quick and snappy and you turn back to the mirror with a huff, watching him stare right back at you. 

“Too much, right? I should try something else.” You say, grabbing your makeup remover wipes, but he cuts in before you can even wipe a single smudge.

“No, no, it looks good, I promise. Really good. Don’t touch it.” Something way too sincere in his voice makes the air tense, more tense than usual, but you drop it, deciding to just take the compliment with a tight lipped smile.

“Okay. You ready?” you ask, and he nods, nervously straightening out his suit before looking back at you with an anxious grin.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look fine?” 

He did. He looked more than fine. You’d never seen him actually dress up for something and put proper care into his looks - he was practically forced into doing it by you this time as well - so seeing him in an actual black suit, all formal and expensive looking, messy dirty blond hair properly combed for the first time in ages, made you gulp and look away. You sort of never understood the argument that women and men can’t be friends because you were never attracted to one of your male friends, ever. Dream was born to be an exception to every rule, it seemed. 

Realising that you abruptly looked away, you attempted to awkwardly clear your throat and smile at him.

“Yeah, you do. Let’s go.”

During the ride there, his mother seemed to finally explode and the words that have clearly wanted to pour out of her mouth for ages finally came out. You supposed it was better for the poor woman, and did your best to suppress a laugh when Dream dramatically sighed and leaned against the window when she nosily spoke up. 

“So… since when have you and Clay been together? He’s told us absolutely nothing!” She spoke up from the passenger seat, shifting to look at you, excited smile plastered on her face and you politely smiled back, mentally noting that you’d have to bully the shit out of him for acting like his mom is embarrassing him in front of his 8th grade crush.

“Ah, we’ve been friends for a long while, but we only started dating a month or so ago, because it’s hard doing long distance and all that.” you said, hoping it would sound believable enough because the two of you rehearsed this a few days ago, writing out a whole backstory from how you started dating to what exact words he used when he asked you out. There were a couple of arguments here and there, such as the fact you refused to say you confessed you’ve been in love with him for years and he refused to say he admitted he’s been your “bottom bitch” for 3 years but in the end, you somehow managed to agree on a cohesive timeline of events.

“Oh, does that mean you’re going to move here?” she questioned, and that one didn’t surprise you either, Dream having prepared a full list of answers to questions that people might ask in your notes app. He was a perfectionist to the point it got on your nerves, but that had its own perks.

“No, but I’ll definitely visit more often, and if it goes well, I might as well move here.” you smiled back at her and she nodded, going back to staring through the windshield. You and Dream exchange a relieved glance that you hope his younger sister doesn’t notice.

“Let me tell you, I was waiting for you two to get together! He always talked about you, I was getting tired of him, you know that?” she giggled and you widened your eyes at Dream who, snapping out of somewhat of a daze, immediately jumped to protest, light blush adorning his pale cheeks. 

“No, I didn’t! I did not, mom, don’t lie to her.” he argued while all she did was laugh.

“Oh come on, it’s not embarrassing now that you’re together!” she kept going, and his younger sister joined in, to make it even worse.

“Yeah, you do talk about her a lot, not gonna lie.” she spoke up and his cold glare directed her way told you everything you needed to know, hanging on by a thread not to burst out laughing. He refused to even look your way, turning back to the window as his cheeks started heating up. You couldn’t help but let out at least a bit of a giggle, placing your hand on his arm in fake comfort.

“It’s okay, you can admit it now.” your tone borderlined on mocking and he knew you’d make fun of him for days to come so he stayed silent while the rest of the car burst into laughter.

The wedding was truly beautifully set up, set in a hotel wedding venue, walls painted in pure innocent white with hints of gold here and there, and you nudged Dream as the two of you observed in awe, asking what sort of money the groom had to be able to afford this sort of expensive venue. Nudging him proved to be way easier now, because you linked arms - you originally made fun of him for suggesting to walk like that instead of holding hands like normal people, telling him you’d look like you were at your high school prom, but he persisted, and you didn’t end up looking as goofy as you thought. 

“He’s a doctor or something, pretty sure.” he replied, quick feet trudging down the long hallways, your own struggling to keep up with him, especially in your heels. He seemed to be in a rush to sit and get it over with as soon as possible so he could avoid any nosy family members, but bad luck followed him everywhere, it seems, because as soon as you two entered the place where the bride and groom would unite, at least three different pairs of eyes locked on you, and you immediately saw a fairly elderly woman get up with open arms, staring at Dream with a grin on her face. You saw him immediately tense up, and almost laughed right then and there.

“There’s my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so much, come here!” The woman looked to be in her fifties and Dream let go of your arm to nervously laugh and fall into her hug, the two rocking from side to side as she kept going on about how it seemed that he grew taller and taller every time she saw him. 

When the two pulled away, her eyes fixed on you, judgingly scanning from head to toe and you suddenly realised why Dream tensed up the way he did - old white women sure had a way to make you anxious. Thankfully, he stepped in. 

“Aunt Bessie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is aunt Bessie, my mom’s older sister.” he generously offered the explanation you were so obviously lacking and you grinned, as if that information helped you in any way, and stuck out your hand in an offer of a handshake. However, she seemed to have different plans, because as soon as she heard the words “my girlfriend” her face lit up as if she won the lottery and her lips stretched into a smile, opening her arms for you the same way she did for him. 

“Oh my God, you finally got a girlfriend? Come here!” she said, shaking her head at your outstretched hand and gesturing you to return the hug which you quite hesitantly did, politely laughing as she hugged you tighter than you’d deem appropriate. Dream came from a family of huggers - that much was apparent from him, you guess, but you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Aunt Bessie seemed to be way louder and screechier than expected, because the word “girlfriend” boomed through the room and off the snowy walls, and at least five other family members of his turned around to check who the lucky fellow that finally got a girlfriend was. Another one of his aunts seemed to notice the commotion and suddenly, another older woman with shoulder length, dyed blonde hair, along with her two younger kids, was hurling at you as well. 

“I always complained to him that it was about time he got a girlfriend! He’s a fine young man, no wonder you picked him, honey.” Aunt Bessie shot you a knowing look and you closed your mouth in a tight lipped smile in a feverish attempt to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape you. 

“Oh yeah, he definitely is.” you giggled, looking up at Dream again who looked like he wanted the earth below his feet to open and swallow him whole. Before you could nudge him in the ribs and tease him for hours to come, the other aunt suddenly spoke up.

“Clay! Oh my gosh, is that you?” she exclaimed, shocked grin on her face, and you briefly wondered if Dream ever even visited his family. He nervously smiled, obviously not really sure who this woman even is, but he hugged her back anyway, clearly walking the line between ‘happy to see his family’ and ‘insanely uncomfortable’.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, your dad hasn’t visited since we moved to Toronto! Look at how tall you are, you’re taller than my husband now! You used to be so tiny, whatever happened to you?” Upon hearing the word Toronto he seemed to realise who he was talking to as his eyes softened, and you wondered if he really was so expressive or you could just read him that well.

“I grew up, I guess.” He awkwardly laughed and she laughed harder than she should’ve before turning to you.

“Oh, and who is this?” She said, gaze periodically switching between him and you, a knowing smile on her face which told you she definitely knew who you were.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is… my dad’s cousin, Mabel.” He introduced, large hand landing on your back, and you felt like you were experiencing déjà vu at the way her face lit up at the mention of a girlfriend. 

“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N!” She said, energetically shaking your hand, before turning back to Dream. “You never told us you got a girlfriend! You’re finally planning on settling down, huh?” 

Your head snapped in his direction at the speed of light when she mentioned settling down, and you could see him tense up as well as he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, we haven’t visited in a while, so nobody from the family really knew. And, uh… we haven’t really thought of that yet, we’re taking it slow and everything.” He said and you were almost in awe at how good he was at bullshitting. The woman did nothing but laugh.

“Ah, don’t lie to me, I see the way you two look at each other! It’s your wedding we’ll be attending next!” She winked, and just as Dream got ready to fake laugh once again, her family called her over and she excused herself, walking off.

The two of you hurried to your seats as well, sitting down next to his younger sister. 

“Your family is insane, man, holy shit.” You laughed in disbelief, staring at him as he shook his head, clearly as distressed as you were.

“Literally nobody in this family gives a single fuck if I’m single or not except the old aunties. And I seem to have a shit ton of those.” He muttered under his breath. “The way you look at each other - I literally didn’t even look at you properly that whole time!” 

You cackled at that one, hitting his arm. “She’s right, Clay. You’re one fine young man, eh?” You nudged him as he groaned in embarrassment, only turning your way to glare at you. 

You didn’t get to tease him for much longer, though, because the organ started playing and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the groom standing at his designated place. The bride walked in, arms locked with her father, thin white veil covering her face as she walked down the aisle, looking angelic in her puffy wedding gown. Silky brown hair fell down her shoulders, curled towards the ends, and you could see the hint of blood red lipstick beneath the veil. She looked beautiful - the groom seemed to think so as well, because you could see him tapping the corner of his eye lightly, wiping any stray tears.

She finally made it to the end and stepped to face her soon-to-be husband as her father moved away, sitting back in his chair. The wedding officiant stepped up, and held a speech much longer than it should be, which just led you to zone out. 

One day you’d be beneath that veil, wouldn’t you? One day, you’ll face your fiancé the same way she is, and you’ll let your hearts link with a string that nobody but the two of you could snap. Who would that be, though? Who could you even trust with your heart in their hands? And you’re not aware of how and why and when, but your eyes shot up at Dream, whose eyes also glinted in that way where you knew he wasn’t paying attention, and maybe he was thinking about the same thing as you. Maybe one day, you’ll be attending his wedding, forcing one of your friends to play a fake boyfriend as he wipes his tears, waiting for his bride to get to him. 

It was disheartening, the thought of being a bystander while he locks lips with somebody else. You supposed you just liked being the center of attention, so you let yourself pretend you were his bride in your daydreams. Separating daydreams from rational thoughts was mandatory, because you weren’t sure how you’d explain to yourself that you can’t stand seeing Dream marry someone else. 

Dream, the infamous hopeless romantic, still seemed out of it, maybe even a little emotional, despite not being that close with either of the two. He was probably thinking about his own wedding as well, thinking about his future, the face he’d see when he pulled back the veil.

Just then, his eyes darted to yours, and you realised you were caught staring, snapping your head back to the couple that started reading their vows by now. You started going red from the neck up, cheeks on fire as you could feel his gaze burning into you. He turned back after a few seconds, though, probably assuming you stared at him because you were bored, and neither of you spoke, even though you kind of wish you did. What even is there to say, though? 

By the time you snapped back, the “I do”s were already being said, and her veil was getting lifted, showing her beauty to everyone present, and as they kissed the whole room bursted into cheers and applause in support of the newlyweds. The two exit, teary eyed, their parents follow close behind, and that’s when Dream’s family rushes both of you to your feet, following the two into the reception hall where the actual party would take place. 

From then on, the wedding is the same as any other. The two have their first dance, they give a welcoming speech, and Dream lets you stuff your face with cake and repeatedly refills your wine glass as repayment for dragging you into this whole thing. At some point, he stretches his hand out to you and asks for a dance like a rom-com main character, and you’re not sure exactly why he did that because he’s mostly terrible at dancing, but you had fun letting him twirl you until you got dizzy anyway.

You also realised just how much he did actually need a fake girlfriend, because it seemed like every twenty minutes some sort of relative of his would walk up to the two of you and congratulate him on “finally getting a girlfriend”. You ended up bullying him for that as well, wondering just how long he’s been single for if they’re all this surprised that he’s got a girlfriend, to which he just downed the glass of water he’d been sipping for half an hour and asked you about the weather.

His family took a few pictures with the new couple - you even got to speak to the bride at some point, congratulating her and wishing the two of them well, but in the span of a few hours, the wedding was over and the newlyweds made a great exit, signifying the end of the party. The two of you were driven home by his parents, and you waved them goodbye as you stumbled to the front door, your heels insanely uncomfortable and the red wine in your stomach weighing down on you; you just wanted to get out of this dress and into a pair of pajamas and pass out on his couch in the living room. 

That’s sort of exactly what you did - you half-assed taking your makeup off, wiping down your face a couple of times, deciding that was enough before changing into some worn pajamas and plopping down on the couch next to Dream who already claimed his place and sunk into the cushion while a random movie played on the TV. The two of you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you, the exhausted, tired type. You both appreciated the quiet and fell asleep sitting next to each other, wedding already forgotten.

That night, he went from Dream to Clay.

The departure was bittersweet. You left two days after that, your hug at the airport tight, warm, filled with a sugary sweet feeling you couldn’t quite place and sour acid that ate away at you because you didn’t want to leave in the slightest. His arms were warm, inviting, whispering for you to stay but you left anyway, waving him goodbye, setting off to home. 

It seemed like all your problems came and went with him, because a week later, at 3 in the morning while you were up editing a video, you got an all caps message on your Discord from Sapnap.

“YOU’RE DATING DREAM?”

You blinked at your computer screen, white letters blinding you in the dark, brain trying to keep up with why he even thought that. Within 10 seconds, another message, this time from Dream.

“so i told george and sapnap that we’re dating”

“don’t kill me pls” 

Yeah, you weren’t going to kill him, per se, but he definitely made your life a lot harder than it should be. You opened Discord, Premiere Pro and the unedited video abandoned, typing back to Clay quickly.

“WHY”

He responded immediately, as one panicked man does.

“they’ve been making fun of me for being single for ages now :(“

“we already did this fake dating thing before and it went perfectly fine”

“just play along for a month or so”

“pls”

You audibly sighed. And as if he could hear you, he started typing again.

“i’ll promote you on my channel more”

“just pls do it”

“you love me, right” 

Another sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it. Of course you did, because if you didn’t, there’s no way you would be playing into this. You typed back.

“fine”

He messaged back immediately.

“THANK YOU”

“LOVE YOU <333”

With a shake of your head, you mumbled “idiot” with the ghost of a smile flashing on your face, switching back to your video, opting to ignore Sapnap for a little bit. He could wait. 

Fake dating seemed pretty damn easy during the first week - you thought you were killing it by sending corny tweets and staged selfies so he could screenshot them and send them to the groupchat, giggling on call about how oblivious they are and how you’re fooling them so good, both of you opting to ignore the parts where they claimed they knew the two of you were gonna get together eventually. It was fun, lighthearted, and an excuse to flirt with someone you had nothing official with.

As much as all your problems came and went with Clay, though, they came and went with his friends as well, especially that hopeless man Clay called his best friend. 

Because yeah, of course Sapnap was the one to accidentally spill to the public that the two of you were “dating”.

George was streaming at what was apparently a normal time in the UK, not so much for Florida, and Clay was sleeping while you were watching his stream while making some food for yourself. It was going fine, a bit of a chill stream, and you leaned against the fridge as your oven preheated, tired eyes following his Minecraft skin. 

“Sophie, thank you for the dono! ‘Hey George, I love your videos, just wanted to ask if you were speedrunning with Dream today?’” he read out, and you could faintly hear Sapnap join the stream through your headphones. 

“No I’m not, Dream’s… I don’t know what Dream’s doing right now, actually. He’s not responding to me, though. Probably talking to his girlfriend still.” he continued, exaggerating the last part mockingly, still playing into the whiny role of being upset that Clay was ditching the two of them for you. That majorly woke you up, though, as you stood straight on your feet immediately, because oh no, nobody was supposed to know.

You exited out of the Twitch app quickly, letting the stream play in the background as you tried to fish for Sapnap’s profile on Discord and text him as quick as possible, trying to warn him to not let anybody know, but before you could do it, you heard his laughter clear in the stream.

“Yeah, Y/N, his sweetie poo.” Sapnap said, causing George to laugh even louder, before moving onto the next topic, and your heartbeat picked up an insane amount, nails loud and probably damaging your phone screen as you typed as quickly as humanly possible to yell at him because this was not planned, at all.

You heard him go quiet after you shot him a couple of messages over Discord (“SAPNAP” “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID” “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “NOBODY KNOWS YET” “IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU”), type something to George who then fell quiet as well for a few seconds, pure horror on his face, and then went back to streaming as if nothing happened while Sapnap profusely apologised to you on his and George’s behalf.

No apology could fix what had already been done, though, and you were left alone with the warzone that was Twitter who had already speculated the two of you were dating long before while Clay peacefully slept somewhere in his house at 4 am in Florida. You bombarded him with messages and waited until he woke up ‘cause what were you even supposed to do?! 

You chose to spend your time finishing the pizza you were originally supposed to make and almost burnt your whole apartment down because you forgot the oven was on for a whole hour while yelling at Clay’s idiotic best friends. You yelled at Sapnap, who kept apologising to you, you yelled at George, who yelled back that it’s not that big of a deal because people were bound to find out anyways, and you yelled at Clay, because he was the guilty one somehow for not being awake during your breakdown. 

He did eventually wake up though, to the shitshow that were his notifications with at least thirty messages from each of you, messages from his other YouTube friends who were fairly surprised, and his entire fanbase going ham on Twitter. He was surprisingly calm about it - calmer than you were, anyways, and sheepishly said over the phone that the fake dating thing may have to go on for a little longer since you couldn’t just date for a month and then break up, and you were sort of okay with that.

And of course, the business side of him awoke at that moment, and he giddily told you about the amount of views the two of you could pull if you did the same shit you do with George and Sapnap anyway, but on livestream. 

You rolled your eyes.

And then agreed anyway. 

And so, the charade began.

His Twitter statement was up shortly, telling the people that you’d been dating for a couple of weeks and weren’t planning to tell anybody yet until a certain someone spilled their guts live, and the fact Dream was dating someone, let alone another popular streamer, took the internet by storm. You expected hate, and you got quite a bit of that, but the people that had shipped the two of you before were certainly more than delighted and a lot of Clay’s fans were supportive. 

Now, both of you had excuses to do chill streams together and just hang out and you took the opportunity and ran with it. 

You’d sit and play Geoguessr or just try and speedrun Minecraft a bunch of times for hours on end, doing stupid bits and things you’d be doing offline anyways, with a little more flirting than usual, because that’s what made it interesting.

“Oh this is France, for sure.” you claimed one night, two or three weeks after the secret was officially out, chewing on the fries you bought for this specific occasion, streaming on his alt to a few thousand people. 

“You think so? It could be Belgium, too.” he responded, humming in thought as he looked around.

“I know so.” you responded.

“How?” 

“I just do. Gamer intuition, babe.” you said, and he wheezed at your response, repeating the words gamer intuition under his breath.

“No, seriously. It is France, I know it is, I’ve seen so many pictures of that place I know it like the back of my hand now. That’s Lyon, or something.” you continued, plopping another french fry into your mouth.

“You have? Why do you know so much about France, that’s so random.” he responded, opening the map and pointing to France, although he keeps looking around, unsure of his decision.

“I dunno, I like it there. I wish I could move there.” you replied.

“Why, though?” 

“It’s pretty and heavily romanticised! Just like me!” you joked and he laughed, before letting you continue. “I dunno, it’s the city of love. Be a little romantic.” 

“The… the city of love is whatever city the two of us are in.” he said, and it took a few seconds for you to process the joke before letting out a fake disappointed sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as corny as you.” 

At that, he bursts into wheezes, and you follow along, enjoying the sound of his laughter coursing through your headphones more than you used to a few weeks back. It feels nice, feels right, acting like this. You like calling him your boyfriend more than you think you should. 

A few weeks go by, and it feels all too natural. It feels too natural, talking to him first thing in the morning when you’ve barely even had your coffee, calling him pet names, throwing sweet words at each other publicly like they mean nothing. It feels all too natural, and nice, and all too right, and you don’t even notice when the two of you cross the line between public and private, and you’re stuck making stupid jokes about making out when you first see each other when there’s nobody to witness them except the walls of your rooms, but you don’t like thinking about that, because you know it’ll bring nothing but confusion. The current this that the two of you have is perfect to you, perfectly lighthearted and funny and fun, and you intend on keeping it that way, refusing to think about it in any way past jokes.

That is, until you can’t anymore.

It’s late, again, and you’re staring at his contact name on your phone screen, lazily lying on the bed. It reminds you of a night from roughly 3 months ago, when your whole friendship seemed to change in the few seconds it took you to process what he’d asked of you, and it feels weird, but nice.

“My mom really likes you, you know?” Clay breaks the quiet that you’ve learned to appreciate in his presence, and you exhale through your nose, the noise just short of a chuckle.

“Yeah?” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms. “She thinks you’re a great girlfriend. Apparently I seem brighter ever since we got together.”

You laugh again. “I am a great girlfriend, to be fair. She’s totally right.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t know that. If you’re as good of a girlfriend as you pretend to be, though, then you’re amazing.” He says, and words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them. 

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” The flirty nature is nothing strange to the two of you, but this time it feels kinda different, it feels like you’re stepping into dangerous territory that there’s no coming back from. You feel like you’ve ruined everything, for some reason.

He laughs, like normal, though. He laughs like nothing happened at all, and you’re so, so grateful for that.

“Sure, let’s do it. You’re about to unpack the full Clay boyfriend experience.” He snickers and you laugh as well. 

“That means I just unlock the dick as well as the personality.” you respond, quick as always, and the wheeze that escapes him is so loud that it makes you laugh too.

“...Unlock the dick…” he repeats through another wheeze and you nod, laughing.

“Yeah! I mean I’m literally experiencing the boyfriend experience without actually having a boyfriend, it’s fuckin’ great.” you say and he hums.

“You could have one, though.” 

The implications are crazy, his words are crazy, he’s crazy and everything that he could mean and couldn’t mean by that is driving you crazy too, brain faltering and heart seeming way too big for your chest to contain it. It’s silent.

“I could, I guess.” 

You choose to say, and he switches the topic naturally, like he never said anything.

Things are never the same again.

It’s not in a bad way. Sure, it is kind of a bad way for the feelings you’re trying to push down inside you, a bad way for hot nights when the unbearable heat forces you to stay up even when you don’t want to and you have no choice but to think about why you feel the way you feel as you melt into the burning sheets below you, a bad way for when he jokes about finding somebody else and you feel your stomach churning. A bad way for realising that this fake dating thing is really getting to you, but not a bad way in general.

Maybe it’s in a good way. Maybe the underlying implications whenever he makes jokes about making the relationship real are good, maybe the way he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s anxious and freaking out and defends himself by saying: “You’re my girlfriend, you’re always there for me, I just figured I could call you.” and you end up wondering if it’s possible to say jokes in such a vulnerable state or if he’s serious is good, maybe the way it’s been a few months and he won’t tell his own best friends that it was a joke the whole time is good, maybe the way you confronted him about it and he said he likes having you as his girlfriend is good. 

Maybe the way the two of you are always walking the line between joking and being serious, between being friends and something more, between lies and pranks and emotional investment and fear of committing, and the way you’re always trying to push the other off, is good. 

The fans love it. The fanart is incredible (serves especially well for those hot nights when you can’t fall asleep and you scroll, watching yourself fall in love with Clay in every universe, tales told by people who observe your story and find it worthy enough to retell in their own words, to take the love you pretend to have and turn it into something real), people love to gush over the compliments he sprinkles in at random times during conversation and the general flirty dynamic is loved by many, pulling in more views and attraction for you. 

And you suppose that’s good too, but at some point, the good warps into bad, bad warps into terrible, and you wonder if this is all even worth the sleepless nights, wondering if he feels the same way.

Those thoughts haunt you more and more often every day. When you wake up, and text him first thing in the morning, your brain acknowledges that the camera is off - nobody’s around, people aren’t listening, so why are you still playing the role of a girlfriend and starting up a conversation with him when you haven’t even brushed your teeth properly? When you’re editing in the middle of the day and he calls to keep you company, making more stupid boyfriend jokes, your stomach flips in a weird way that makes you hate him, hate the way he can joke about these things so freely, like it doesn’t hurt him. Like it doesn’t affect him like it affects you. 

But, as much as you wish you could hate him, you couldn’t bring yourself to, and that was the worst part. Because, in reality, whenever he laughed you’d smile without realising you did, whenever anything exciting happened to you he was the first one you went to, whenever you wanted to laugh or cry or sit in silence for hours or complain you always went to him, the one person who you know would listen. In reality, whenever he made a joke about giving up on the fake dating and making it real, you wished so bad that he was serious this time, that this was what it took and he’d crack and all of your suffering would end.

It eventually happens.

It’s a pretty chilly morning, birds chirp outside and the sun that slowly rises is covering the kitchen floor in a golden hue as you pour milk into your cereal with one hand and hold your phone in the other, letting Clay ramble about whatever it was this time, when he brought it up.

“So, when do you wanna come down to Florida again?” he asks casually, and you almost drop the gallon of milk in your hand. 

“What?” 

“I said, when are you coming down to Florida again? Last time you came was pretty fun.” he says, and an empty silence follows. There’s an unsaid “I miss you” that you don’t hear, and he’s too afraid of saying it. 

“Florida wasn’t exactly on my schedule this month, man.” you say, placing your phone on the counter for a second. Clay sure knew how to surprise a person.

“Well put it down, then.” he jokes, and you hum.

“What, you got another wedding coming up?” you giggle and he groans - you never really stopped making fun of him for that wedding.

“No, I don’t. Can’t a man just miss seeing his beloved girlfriend?” It’s unbelievable how quickly dread can wash over you as soon as he makes one of those jokes. You were convinced the mix of anxiety and butterflies that appears in your stomach was gonna kill you sometime soon.

“He can, he’s just being weirdly insistent.” you argue nonetheless. “But sure, I’ll consider it.”

You do more than consider it - in a few weeks, you’re back at the airport, and falling into his arms has never given you such an adrenaline rush in your whole life. Something about having him wrapped around you, close to you, the warmth of his body radiating into yours sent you spiraling, head clouded with nothing but love and the fact that you wish you could stay there forever. You wished you could press pause and cherish the moment, let yourself bask in that feeling of pure love, pure adoration that you helplessly drowned in. But you couldn’t, and you left his arms feeling oddly empty. 

Hiding the fact that you were unapologetically head over heels for him proved to be a hundred times more difficult when you were right there, next to him, talking to him, when you could just kiss him any second, feel his lips on yours and nobody would stop you - the opportunity was right there, looming over you, the devil on your shoulder taunting you, telling you to do it. 

You got to wake up in the same house as him, watch his hair stick out in different directions and his raspy morning voice as he complained about the smell of your coffee, watch his eyes glint whenever he talked about something he liked and observe as he carried around Patches like a little baby. You got to experience every bit of domestic without the consequences of committing, and you wondered just how far this would go. For how much longer would the two of you blatantly ignore the fact that you were a couple that slapped the title “fake” on it because you were cowards who refused to admit what this truly was. 

Not for long, apparently, because you grew tired, and decided to put an end to everything on one random Thursday night - and if he hated you forever for it, then so be it. 

You were sitting on his couch, watching a random movie together, drowning in one of his Dream hoodies while you chewed the popcorn he made. It was dark outside, just past midnight, and you could see the branches of a tree swaying calmly through one of the nearby windows - the silence while he scrolled through his phone lazily was comforting too, everything was lazy and serene and it would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety that gripped you by the throat whenever you were in his close proximity, the nervousness that killed you, the upset feeling of wanting to cuddle up with him but knowing you can’t because you guys are just friends, and nothing more.

The couple on the screen kiss while a violin plays in the background - how fitting. Maybe that’s what pushes you to the edge, or maybe you were just that sick and tired.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. Your eyes were tired, the anxiety was morphing into annoyance and anger and you were ready to give up on it all. If this ended the friendship, at least you two had a good run. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, you still owe me a favor in return for pretending to be your girlfriend.” you say, and you sound gone, zoned out, more than you wish you were. You hear his phone turn off with a click.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Clay asks, and you blankly stare at the TV for a few seconds before turning to face him, eyes burning. 

“Kiss me.” 

It’s silent. The characters on screen are arguing. You hear the wind through one of his open windows.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and his expression falls. You’ve fucked it. Oh well.

“I want you to kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like someone’s watching and you wanna make it believable.” you say, eyes boring into his, your words having nowhere near as much of an effect on yourself as they do on him. Your eyes sting like they’re being lit on fire, and your throat is sort of closing up, but it’s fine. “Let me have this before I go, because once I leave, I don’t wanna do this anymore, Clay. I can’t pretend like I don’t want you to introduce me as your girlfriend and fully mean it. I can’t lie to your face anymore.” 

Silence. Deafening silence, once again.

“I love you.” he blurts out, and you don’t even register it at first. “I don’t want this shit to be fake either. God, I really don’t. It hasn’t been fake for a while now, at least not on my part. I’m sorry, it’s just- it was easier to keep this bit going than it was to actually admit that I’m… into you.”

And once again, the room falls into silence, much like it always does whenever the two of you share moments like these.

And then, you burst into laughter.

“So… so you mean to tell me, that both of us have liked each other this whooooole fucking time, and just refused to admit it and ‘pretended to date’ instead?” you burst into giggles, and he looks sort of hesitant to laugh, but he does anyway.

“I mean… yeah? I was waiting for you to call me out for doing all that when nobody was watching! Why did you never call me out?! Don’t blame me, I made it so damn obvious that I wanted you!” he protests, and you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Excuse me? You should’ve just fucking told me instead of making a million and one jokes about how I’m your girlfriend! We’re not in middle school, Clay!” you argue.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d catch on and talk to me about it at some point! You never called me out for anything!”

“So what, I’m supposed to just read your mind now? You’re fucking unbelievable.” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away in annoyance. As soon as a warm hand lands on your shoulder, though, the annoyance melts like wax under fire, leaving nothing behind.

“I still haven’t returned that favor, you know?” he whispers in your ear, breath fanning your neck, closer than he should be. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn back to Clay, who wore a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested no good. 

You suppose bad can be good, sometimes. 

As his lips press onto yours, that theory is proven true, because he sends a flicker of fire burning down your spine, spreading into your limbs, making your fingertips electric as you pulled him in closer, hand snaking up to grip at his hair - the everlasting grin against your own proves, once again, to be no good as his hands slip under your hoodie and grip your sides, but you think you enjoy this sort of bad. 

They sneak up further, and you hear him chuckle into the kiss as your insides melt at his touch. The two of you silently agree that maybe he should ask for favors more often.

[egoisticeuphoria]

You Warm Heart

Chapter II (part I) : Identity

Genre : mafia au

Choi San x (f) Reader

#drama #comedy #action #romance

Words : 8.7k (part II)

Your body was heavy. Your forehead drenched in cold sweat. Your breathing went faster and faster. You couldn’t control what was happening. Your glued on your front as if you were waiting for something. Someone to save you. The door in front of you opened up. Bright lights were coming out from the room. A man dressed in suit standing on the other side of the room looking your way. It was Kai. The wedding melody was playing on the background. A bitter taste on the back of your tongue. A strong arm grabbed yours and started walking you down the aisle. You didn’t want this. You tried to move your body, to run away once again. But this time was different. You had no strength to do as you wished. As if your soul was stuck on somebody else’s body. This wasn’t the life you wanted. Not like this. The eyes of the man in front of you were shining as the lion’s eyes looking at its prey hungrily. You look d around you. The church was full of people. Even Soyeon was there. Why was she there? She was smiling at you with the brightest smile. You wanted to cry. This wasn’t the real Soyeon. She would never be happy with an arranged marriage. You looked away to avoid her smiling eyes but then you saw San. He was standing far away from the seats. His eyes glued to you and your wedding dress. He looked... weird. He was also wearing the same clothes as Kai. You couldn’t understand the reason though. His eyes looked sad as if he was about to cry. The arm that was holding you tightly pushed you to Kai’s arms who looked at you in awe.

“You look stunning, my love.”

Your eyes seemed to finally take action because you felt some burning tears come down your eyes. You opened your mouth to shout loud that this wasn’t the was thing should have been. No voice could come out your mouth though. It was a dream... no... it was a nightmare... It all felt so real though. Weird. Frightening. Disgusting.

You opened your eyes. You lifted your hands to wipe the tears off your face. Your breathing was finally on its normal pace. You hold your head with both arms as you tried to calm down from what you’ve just seen.

The phone rang. You picked it up knowing it was Soyeon.

“Good morning, Soyeon.” a sigh came out of your mouth.

“Good morning, y/n. Did you sleep well?” you could see her wide smile even from some miles away.

“Uhm, well, no.” you scratched your forehead.

“What? Why not?”

“Soyeon, I have a question. Please, be honest with me.”

“Of course, y/n. What is it?” Soyeon asked full of curiousity.

“Did you tell those mobsters my name and address?”

“Of course not! Why would I?”

“That’s what they said...” you said as you stood up from the bed now walking to the living room.

“What do you mean?” suddenly, Soyeon’s voice sounded worried.

“Yesterday night... I met with the mobsters again.” you continued while walking up and down the hall.

“What?! What the hell– What happened?!” before you could open your mouth to breath a response she cut you off. “You know what? Let’s meet up. I’ll come pick you up. Be ready at 15 mins. I’ll be there. You’ll tell me the details over coffee.” and with that she hang up the phone leaving you literally speechless.

You went to take a quick cold shower and got dressed in a simple morning outfit. Just a white T-shirt and short jeans.

15 minutes passed fast. Soyeon came ringing the bell on your door. When you opened up for her she rushed her way in your room.

“Girl... There are so many men outside the building... What the hell happened here?”

“I’ll tell you. Not here though.” you pushed her and yourself out of the room and got in the elevator.

On the first floor you could see men in black all over the place. As if a dark cloud came down from the sky right on your building. You felt weird. After what happened yesterday, things were pretty strange.

“Okay, we better stay quiet till we get out of here. I know a good quiet place to talk.” Soyeon whispered in your ear.

“Good. Lead the way then.” you grabbed Soyeon’s arm and walked alongside her as she led the way to the unknown to you quiet place.

You two walked in silence once in a while turning back to see if anyone was following you. When you saw no one behind you you started walking faster.

Soyeon stopped walking which made you stop too. You looked at her. She smiled while looking in front of her.

“Here we are. This is the place.” after her confirmation you looked where Soyeon was looking. There was a small cafe in the corner. ATZ Café. It looked plain. And nice. It really looked quiet. Not many people seemed to be inside. That’s what you wanted. Less people around the better. You wanted to talk with Soyeon in quiet. Tell her what happened yesterday and try to figure out a solution to avoid that from happening again.

Soyeon pulled you inside and sat on a table far from the windows. She fixed her clothes and stared into your eyes as a hungry teenager waiting for her meal.

“So... begin.”

“Alright then...” you started talking and talking and talking. You told Soyeon what happened after you two had went separate ways. You told her about the steps you heard near the elevator but when you turned back there was no one. You told her about the guys that broke in your apartment and how Wooyoung helped you eliminate them. You also told Soyeon about Wooyoung taking you to San’s mansion and that you left there by foot by yourself. The only thing you didn’t want to share with Soyeon was what happened between you and Choi San. That was too much for you yourself to handle. Also you knew that if Soyeon heard what happened she would start rooting for you two. You didn’t want that. Not at least until you found out what your feelings were for San. Because you wanted to realise what exactly you felt when San attacked you with kisses. You felt weird. Was it bad weird or good weird though? You felt the need to see for yourself by time what it meant to you. By time.

“What the hell?!” Soyeon was in awe at the news of your yesterday’s adventure. “These things happened in just one night? Your first night in Seoul? Girl, that’s insane.”

“Exactly! Insane.” you agreed with her words.

A young boy with the cafe’s uniform came to take your orders.

“Excuse me, girls. Are you ready to order?”

“I’d like some iced americano. What about you y/n?”

“I’ll have a black tea.”

“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Thank you.” Soyeon told him with a smile.

The boy left to make your tea and Soyeon’s coffee. There was a man standing beside the waiter that took your orders. The man was faced in a way where you couldn’t see his face. You could only see the back of his head. It was red haired head. Although you didn’t notice it, he did. When Soyeon called out your name a while ago, he lifted his head surprised. Surprised to see you again so soon. He turned around and looked at you.

It was no other than Choi Jongho, San’s little brother.

His eyes glued on you as he couldn’t believe you visited his cafe. Did you know or was it Soyeon who suggested the place? He felt like walking towards you. He wanted to speak with you, to come closer to you. With a wide smile on his face he started walking.

It took him 10 seconds. He raised his hand so you could see it and waved at you.

“Hi. Good morning.” his face seemed happy as you could see the smile attached on the corners of his ears. You lifted your head facing him and finally realising where you’ve stepped in.

“W-what are you doing here?” you asked all nervous. You felt like falling in a trap like a wandering and hungry mouse. You were afraid that this smile on Jongho’s face meant no good news. He raised his eyebrows surprised at your question.

“Uhm, this is my cafe. I own it.” he said while looking around the room. You looked at him as if he was talking about something bad, horrible. You just couldn’t believe how unlucky you were. “Look, y/n, I have to tell you something... My brother wouldn’t say it so I’ll do it in his place.”

“Y-your brother?” you seemed confused. What about his brother? What was it that he wanted to tell you and his brother wouldn’t?

“My older brother, San.” he looked at you as your sudden question confused him. Didn’t you know already? But then again... Jongho never really introduced himself to you. The thought hit him and he stepped back a little to bow lightly in order to make a proper self introduction to you. “Excuse me. My name is Choi Jongho. I’m Choi San’s little brother. Nice to meet you y/n.” his smiley face returned making you unconsciously smile. Soyeon noticed your smile so she decided to speak up regardless Jongho being a mobster.

“Nice to meet you Jongho. I’m Jeon Soyeon. Y/n’s best friend.” she smiled and stood up from her seat to bow politely pulling you with her. She shook you lightly whispering in your ear to introduce yourself as well. When you came back to your senses you bowed lightly.

“I’m Park y/n. Although you already know me. Anyways. Nice to meet you Jongho.” you looked around to check if San was there. Fortunately, he wasn’t.

“What’s wrong y/n?” Jongho noticed you were worried over something.

“Oh, I just... I’m checking for something. Nice cafe by the way. It’s really comfy here.” you gave him a compliment with smile that made him get excited.

“Thanks y/n. It’s really great to hear that from you.” he smiled back with the cutest smile which made you giggle. “Y/n, I really want to make a proper apologise to you for what happened yesterday night. I’m so... SO sorry. My brother is such an idiot sometimes. Stubborn, arrogant. I have to make it up to you.” Jongho’s eyes were full of pain as he was talking. You felt sorry for him feeling this way because of you and San. You didn’t like seeing him in pain even though you didn’t know him well.

“It’s not your fault, Jongho. You don’t have to apologise in your stupid brother’s place. Jongho looked up at you and smiled lightly.

Soyeon, who was observing over your little conversation, sensed a cute atmosphere between Jongho and you. She found Jongo’s actions around you cute and it wasn’t hard for her to realise what kind of feelings Jongho had for you. By the way... what were you talking about with Jongho? Soyeon noticed that your conversation with him was something you never mentioned. She was eager to learn though. She had her plan. She stayed quiet for the time being and just listened carefully.

After a while the waiter came with the tea and the americano. He noticed his boss talking to you two so he felt like he could be close with you as well. He smiled brightly and put the disk down on the table.

“Here you go, pretty ladies.” when these words left his mouth Jongho’s smile disappeared and an angry facial expression appeared on his face.

“Jay.” Jongho called out his employee’s name angrily.

“Yes, boss.” Jay stood straight up realising he made a mistake.

“No talking to the ladies. Get back to work.”

“Yes, boss.” Jay turned around and run off behind the counter. He quickly started cleaning off the counter with his eyes never looking at you and Soyeon again. Soyeon and you laughed at Jongho’s serious face and Jay’s reaction to his boss’ orders.

“It’s fine, Jongho. You didn’t have to be so strict to him.” you said and Jongho’s eyes met yours again.

“I actually had to. Discipline is what matters. If I’m being nice he won’t improve himself.” Jongho came closer to you and you nodded as his words made sense.

“You’re right.” you smiled at him. Jongho smiled back looking straight at you.

“Sit down with us Jongho. Let’s chat for a little bit, then you can return to your cafe duties.” Jongho turned to Soyeon then back at you.

“May I?” he asked giving the point of wanting to sit next to you.

“Oh, of course.” you took your bag from the seat next to you and Jongho sat on it. He immediately shared a bright smile. Jongho was extremely happy to be near you. He wanted to know more about you.

“So, y/n, where do you come from?” you looked at Jongho with a serious expression. You felt insecure about revealing your identity to him but you also felt like even if he knew your secret, he would keep his mouth sealed for good. You took a deep breath and smiled again.

“I’m from Busan.” Soyeon looked at you in surprise as you began to reveal your real self. She immediately looked back at Jongho to view his smiley reaction.

“From Busan. That’s nice. Really nice. Your accent doesn’t resemble Busan’s accent though.”

“I grew up speaking the Seoul accent. Back home nobody speaks with the Busan accent.”

“I see. That explains it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The conversation with Jongho went on and on. Sometimes Soyeon stopped just observing and joined you two in your long chat. You talked about your hobbies and dream jobs. You felt relaxed while talking to Jongho. It felt nice to have someone to talk to about such things. Jongho could be a good friend. A really good one.

After a while and after you both have drank your drinks, you hear the sound from the door openning. The three of you turned your heads to the direction of the door. Your eyes widened as you saw two familiar faces coming in the cafe.

“Yunho. Mingi. Welcome.” Jongho stood up and walked to them. They greeted each other then Jongho turned to you again. “Come sit down with us.” Yunho and Mingi tunred their faces to you. They looked each other in surprise.

“What’s this? Why is y/n here?” the black haired man said. Soyeon looked at him and then at you. She covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. You blushed lightly after realising that you have become famous among those guys in just one night.

“She just came over with Soyeon for a coffee.” Jongho replied instead of you.

“Did you know this was Jongho’s coffee shop?” the auburn haired man.

“No. We didn’t.” you replied immediately not waiting a second for Jongho to reply in your place again. “I had no idea this place was yours.” Jongho looked at you then back at the standing men. One of the men walked forward and placed his hand on his chest.

“We know you but you don’t know us. We still haven’t introduced ourselves.” it was the black haired man that took the lead. “My name is Yunho, Jeon Yunho. Nice to meet you, y/n and Soyeon.” after Yunho, the auburn haired man stepped forward as well and smiled.

“I’m Mingi. Song Mingi. Nice to meet you girls. Also sorry for the late introduction.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Nice to meet you guys as well.” you said as you stood up to shake their hands. Soyeon repeated your movements after you. They both seemed nice guys.

“Yunho and Mingi are my brother’s main bodyguards.” Jongho said first.

“Although San prefers to call us his friends. Our main job in the family is to protect the boss.” Mingi explained to you and Soyeon.

“I get it. That’s totally normal.” you spoke without thinking.

“What do you mean normal?” Yunho asked and crossed his arms. For a second you thought of what you said some seconds ago and began to stutter while trying to explain yourself.

“N-n-normal. H-he wouldn’t he cannot protect himself alone. O-of course he would call his bodyguards just friends. Just how proud is he.” The guys and Soyeon laughed loudly at your reaction and it felt like your words didn’t make any sense. What mattered was that you believed your words. You shook Soyeon off to make her stop laughing.

After the laughing was finally over, Jongho tunred to Yunho and Mingi.

“Anyways, guys. Why are you here? Did anything happen?” Jongho asked them and the guys’ faces went from smiley to dead serious.

“Come here.” Mingi pulled Jongho and the three of them walked far away enough from the table for you to not listen to them talking. Soyeon got worried.

“Do you think anything bad happen? They seem serious.” Soyeon asked and grabbed you by the arm lightly.

“I don’t know. I’m as curous as you right now.” you replied to her while holding her.

For three whole minutes the boys kept staring at you then at each other. This made you anxious. What was wrong?

Eventually the guys walked up to you again.

“Y/n, listen carefully.” Mingi spoke up before the others.

“What is it?” you asked full of curiousity and worry.

“It seems like you’ll have to stay at the mansion for a while.” Yunho continued the announcement. You looked at him even more curious than before.

“What do you mean– Which mansion are you talking about?”

“The Choi mansion. San’s house.” Mingi spoke again. You felt hot blood on the front of your forehead. Soyeon looked at the guys full of worry about you.

“Stop kidding. This isn’t funny.” Soyeon told the guys and grabbed your arm tighter.

“I’m afraid that it has to be like this.” Jongho said while looking at the ground. Mingi and Yunho found some guys out of your apartment. The last night’s incident came as a flashback to you and your eyes widened.

“The guys from last night...”

“Exactly... it seems that San’s men had left their spot for a bit and they found their way in there. You can’t stay there. It’s too damgerous. Too risky.” Yunho added. “We can’t just let a girl alone in a dangerous place.” You looked at Yunho with a serious face. He couldn’t possibly know about you not being just a normal girl. A normal girl would be weak. But you... No. How could you? You grew up in a fierce environment just like San and the other guys did. There was no single proof of your background. You just had to make sure you won’t get caught.

That was the moment when you realised that in order to keep your secret from them you had to act weak. They had already seen you fight but that was with other girls. You just needed to act as if you were inferior to guys’ power. That was nothing hard.

“Actually, it’s San’s house but we all live together. So, you won’t be alone with San, if thaat’s what troubles you.” Jongho and moved a step closer to you. You laughed it off.

“Don’t worry. It’s fine, I guess. Since you’ll be living there with me, I don’t mind having you around.” you said to Jongho and smiled brightly. Jongho smiled back with your answer.

“That’s good to know.”

“Great. It’s decided then.” Mingi said and stretched out his arms.

“You come home with us.” Yunho added. “About your stuff–”

“I’ll go pack them up. There are some things I still have to do so I’ll finish them up and come over to the mansion.”

“Are you sure y/n? It’s dangerous over there right now. What if anything bad happens to you?” Jongho asked all worried again.

“Then you can just watch over me while I’m finishing things up. I won’t be in danger as long as you’re around. Right?” Jongho sighed at your words. He was happy to hear you felt secured around him.

“Great. This way I’ll be able to watch over you.” Jongho’s face got all smiley again.

“Then, I guess we’ll have to say goodbye for now.” Soyeon looked at you and gave you a smile although you could see the worry in her gaze.

“Yeah. I’ll contact you as soon as I get to the mansion.”

“You better do.”

“Oh, and something else. Yunho, can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure, what is it y/n?”

“Please take care of Soyeon for me. She was probably seen by those guys at my apartment this morning so she might also be in danger. Can you do it for me?” Yunho looked over at Soyeon. She looked back at him and smiled. Yunho turned at you and smiled. He nodded his head.

“Of course, y/n. If I don't bother her.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind you being around. But I’ll have to warn you about one thing. I’ll be going to a lot of clubs. You may not be able to follow me there all the time. I need my privacy.” Yunho looked at Soyeon and smirked.

“I’ll try to keep the needed distance.” Soyeon chuckled at Yunho’s words.

“Good.”

“Alright, then. Let’s get moving. Jongho, it’s time.” Mingi spoke up and walked to the door. Yunho followed Mingi slowly.

“Come on, Soyeon. I’ll take you home for now.”

“Okay, see ya y/n. Stay safe!” Soyeon hugged you tightly and followed Yunho to his motorcycle. They hopped on and run off. Mingi rode his motorcycle and headed to the mansion. Jongho turned to you.

“Let’s go. Jay, I’m leaving. Take care of the shop while I’m away.”

“Yes boss!” and with that Jongho held you by the hand and walked with you out of the cafe.

“Get in.” he said after showing you his car. You nodded. You got in the car and sat on the passenger seat. Jongho got in as well after seeing you closing the door and started the engine.

The ride lasted less than you imagined. Jongho made sure to drive fast so you could finish up faster than expected. He parked his car in front of the building your apartment was and you both got out. Jongho looked around to make sure no one was spying on you.

“It’s clear. Let’s go check upstairs.”

“Alright.” you walked to the elevator and got in. You waited for Jongho to walk inside and pressed the button.

When you reached the floor, the doors opened and you walked oit of the elevator. You looked straightt ahead. Your eyes met with a man that held a key on his right hand amd was about to unlock the door of the apartment next to you. He noticed you and turned around to look at you. You walked closer to him to greet him but then Jongho jumped in front of you with his eyes stuck on the man.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” Jongho attacked the man with questions.

“I–I’m just living here.” then his eyes met yours and he pointed a finger at you. “Oh. Aren’t you the lady from last night at the club?” his question let a flashback intrude your mind. His voice, his gaze, it all reminded you of the barman from the club.

“Oh. Are you maybe... the barman of the club?” the man smiled as you recognised him. Jongho stood straight up watching you two.

“Nice to meet you again, my name is Lee Taemin and as you know I am a barman at the club.” he waved his hand in a cute way. He seemed really friendly.

“Nice to meet you as well, Mr. Lee. I’m Park Y/n.” you did the same to him with your hand.

“Oh, just drop the honorifics. Call me Taemin.”

“Is that fine? Hahaha, okay. You can call me y/n then.”

“Great.”

“Oh, and uhm, thanks for the help last night. The guy would have really caused me trouble.”

“It was nothing. It’s fine.” Taemin smiled really brightly after your thanks. Jongho looked at him then at you.

“What guy?” Jongho looked kind of more worried after hearing about an incident he wasn’t aware of.

“Oh, it’s nothing important. It’s not that I’ll see him again or anything. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know your boyfriend would be jealous.” Taemin spoke quickly.

“He- no, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“I’m not. But her real boufriend will get really angry if I tell him his girl was talking to some barman, and even calling him by his first name.” Jongho had reached his limits with Taemin being all friendly with you.

“I’m sorry, dude.”

“Jongho, what the?” you looked in his eyes. What was he talking about? Was he too worried about you? Was he worried because of Taemin?

“Let’s just get this over with and go home. We’re running late. San is waiting.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” you turned to Taemin. “I’ll see you next time, I guess. Byebye.”

“Okay, bye.” Taemin put on the sweetest smile till now and finally unlocked his door. After he entered his apartment there was nothing but silence in the atmosphere.

Taemin’s face changed. The sweet smile from before turned into a wicked, sick grin that painted his face nasty. “Gotcha birdy~”

Jongho walked to your apartment’s door. You followed him annoyed.

“You know, you didn’t have to be mean to him. He was just being nice.”

“No man working at a club is nice. Now, please. Pack your things. I’ll be waiting in the living room.” Jongho walked his way in the apartment as if he owned the place. You walked to your room and closed the door shut. The door made quite the noise. Jongho noticed that his behaviour made you pissed but he was as pissed as you were. He didn’t like Taemin’s face. He didn’t look like a decent man.

You sat on the bed all angry.

“Why is he acting like that? I mean... He’s here to help me but why would he get angry because of Taemin? There’s nothing wrong with him, is there?” you sighed and got up to pick up your bags.

After finishing your things up you walked out of the bedroom and joined Jongho in the living room. Jongho noticed you and got up from the couch.

“Are you ready?” your eyes turned on the suitcases in your hands then nodded at him.

“I think that’s all.”

“I’ll take these.” Jongho grabbed the suitcases from your hands and stood up the door. You opened it and you both walked to the elevator. You looked at Taemin’s apartment door. It was closed. Would he get offended by Jongho’s behaviour? Anyways. You pressed the button on the elevator.

When you finally left the building and got in the car Jongho placed his hands on the steering wheel and sighed deeply. You didn’t look at him though. His head turned toward yours.

“I’m sorry for earlier. I really am.” his words were soft coming out of his mouth that itade you look at him.

“Why were you like that to him? He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know. I just... I don’t know... I don’t like that guy.” Jongho tried to calmly tell you his reasons. You nodded your head.

“I see. But you could be more kind to him.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful of my actions next time. Let’s go home for now.” Jongho started the engine.

Back in Busan, your fiancé, Kai, had decided to visit you at your home. He came on his red Porsche. He parked his car in front of the mansion, your old home, and got out of the car. He fixed his dark blue suit and walked in the house. All the maids were totally simping over his stunning looks. Your step mother headed over to him to greet him.

“Welcome, dear. How have you been? How is your father doing?”

“Hello, Mrs. Park. I’m very well, so is my father. I thought it would be nice to come over for a visit. I hope I’m not causing any trouble to you.” Kai has always been sweet talking to your step mother. That’s why she liked him so much. You hated him. Not only for this. He was stunning, indeed. But not stunning enough to become your husband. You didn’t want to take him just because your parents said so, or because he made every girl melt with just a single glare. If he really wanted to win a place in your heart he had to change his personality. You had no single interest in him as he already was.

Your step mother guided him to the living room and they both sat down on some pretty golden lux sofas. She kept on telling him about his good looking appearance and how well suited he was to you. That was when he looked around the house only to see the staff and your step mother.

“By the way, where is my fiancée? I haven’t seen her in a while and I already miss her. She didn’t even call not even once since the engagement. She’s so cruel. All I do is love her but still–” his words her cut off as your step mother covered over his question.

“Actually. That rascal... She run away.” she laughed a little to make it seem funny. Kai looked at her. He was at a loss of words. He didn’t ever imagined that you would run away because of this. He knew you didn’t stand him at all but he never thought you hated him that much as to run away so you could not marry him. He felt hurt. But he laughed it off as your step mother did. Their laughs were just ironical. It was as if you had become their little easy prey that you could hunt wherever you hid yourself. Nasty. Rotten. Their laughs filled the house and that made Chaerin come out of her room and fown the stairs. She hid herself behind the wall near the living room and listened to what her mother and Kai were talking about.

“How cute of her to run off just some days away from our wedding. She’s really sweet. Don’t you think, mr.s Park?”

“Indeed, my dear. Don’t blame her. She’s just confused. Her dad will find her and make her return before the wedding for sure. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that actually. I have a lot of friends in the whole country. I’ll just notify them and it’ll all be done.”

“As expected of our dear Kai. Y/n is so lucky to have you. Also so stupid that she doesn’t see the treasure she’s offered.”

“She will. I’m confident about this.” Kai smiled at your step mother. His phone suddenly rang and he took it out of his pocket to check who was calling him. On the phone was written the name Lee Taemin. “Oh. I have to pick this up. I’ll be back in a minute.” your step mother nodded as he stood up and walked a little further away for her. “Hello my dear friend. How are you?”

“Hey Kai. I’m doing just fine. How about you? How do the wedding preparations go?”

“It’s all fine except one thing I didn’t count that well.”

“You know, I might have found something interesting here in Seoul.”

“How much interesting?”

“Very much. Tell me, isn’t your fiancée’s name Park Y/n?”

“That’s right. Don’t tell me...”

“Yeah, I saw her in Seoul. The first time she was at the club I work with her friend. The second time I saw her was out of my apartment. She was with some other guy though.”

“Another guy?” Kai chuckled at the thought of you cheating on your soon to be husband. “Do you know who that guy is?”

“Actually, he was at the club as well but they didn’t talk at all there. He’s that little brother of that sly fox mafia boss Choi.”

“Oh. I see.” a nasty grin covered Kai’s face. “She just keeps getting more interesting to win her over. Now she even goes to other bosses in order to avoid me? Really interesting. And cute.”

“Shall I keep a close eye on her?”

“Just learn about her whereabouts. I’ll be coming to pick her up. Thanks for your help. You’re a really good friend Taemin.”

“Anything for you Kai.” Kai hang up and lowered the phone from his ear. The grin on his face just grew bigger. His look and aura became scarier.

“Fine. I accept your challenge y/n. Just wait for me.” he walked back to the living room after fixing his grin to a sweet smile as before. “I’m sorry it tooke so long. It was really important.”

“Oh, it’s fine Kai. You don’t have to apologise for this.”

“Actually, it was a friend of mine. He told me he found y/n.” your step mother and Chaerin’s eyes widened. “I’ll go pick her up in a few days. There’s no need to worry over her anymore. I have eveything under control.”

“That’s so sweet of you Kai. Oh, please, bring y/n back so you two can get married.”

“I definitely will.”

“Good. Now, if you please, the dinner is ready. Let’s get to the table.” she and Kai took off to the dining room.

Chaerin who was hiding all this time run back up to her bedroom and fell on her bed. “Where are you, big sis? They all have gone crazy here... How can I help you when you left without telling me anything?” she raised her head up. “I’ll call Chanyeol. He may be able to help.” she grabbed her phone and typed Chanyeol’s number. She was really detremined to help you with destroying Kai and he mother’s awful plans.

Back in Seoul, you and Jongho had arrived at the mansion. A butler was holding your bags. Jongho led you inside. He walked you to the living room where other seven men were sitting on the lux black couches. When you enterned the room they all stood up to greet you with the warmest smiles. All except one of them, San, who just kept looking at you with no reaction. You recognised only the four of them. Wooyoung, Mingi, Yunho and San, the big boss. It was about time you met the other three guys of the gang.

“We’re here.” Jongho announced officially. “Y/n will be staying with us from now on.” the other guys came closer to greet you.

“Hey y/n, we meet again. If I knew earlier that you’d be coming here I would have come over to fetch you.” Wooyoung was the first one to greet you but he was pushed back by the guy next to him.

“Wooyoung, for god’s sake, let the ones that haven’t introduced themselves do it properly.” he smiled at you and bowed lightly out of respect. “Hello y/n, my name is Hongjoong. I am a lawyer and San’s advisor. Nice to finally meet you.” he was taller than you. His bleached hair were shining under the bright lights of the living room. He was really handsome and looked like the more normal out of all of them.

“Nice to meet you as well, Kim Hongjoong.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Park Seonghwa.” he had nice black wavy hair that fell on the sides of his eyes. “I’m the oldest one among the guys. I’m a captain in the gang, if you know what I mean.”

“I know.” the guys’ eyes locked on yours as you said that. You realised that only an insider would have known the positions in a mafia gang and you didn’t want to seem like an insider at all. “I mean... I’ve seen a lot of movies, that’s why.” the boys nodded their heads understanding what you actually meant.

“Hello there.” another guy with black hair popped from behind. “I’m Kang Yeosang. It’s an honor to meet you, the one who marked our San’s heart.”

“Shut up Yeosang.” San growled. Yeosang laughed after managing to make San make a sound in front of you.

“Finally. You too come to greet y/n.”

“I don’t need to. I’m going to eat. Whoever wants to come is welcomed.” San went over the dining room and sat on his chair.

“Y/n, come eat with us. You must be pretty hungry.” Hongjoong offered you.

“It’s fine.” though your stomach didn’t seem to agree with your mouth cause after that it growled like crazy of hunger. The boys chuckled. “Fine. Let’s go eat.”

The boys led you to the dining room and sat on the table next to San. After a while the food was served and you all started eating. Most of the time you were eating, the boys asked you to talk to them about your life, so you did. Except cutting off some details. They, too, shared some funny stories with you. They seemed to enjoy your company and you didn’t find them annoying at all, in contrast of what you thought of them last night at the club. They were really warm and kind. Just like a family. They teased each other in front of you which made you laugh at their silliness.

After finishing the food the boys sat back on their chairs just looking at each other.

“How about we play some games?” Wooyoung said as he stood up from his chair. They boys found his idea interesting and stood up as well.

“Let’s go to the gaming room. Y/n come with us.” Mingi said and grabbed you by your hand. You took his hand willingly and walked with them to the gaming room. When San noticed you holding Mingi’s hand he stood up straight and started walking behind you. His eyes were completely locked on your united hands. You hadn’t noticed him behind you but you felt someone staring at you. You turned around only to be starlted by how much San was close to you. He bumped into you as you stopped walking.

“What’s wrong y/n?” Mingi asked you then looked at San who now was looking at Mingi with eyes full of jealousy. Mingi understood that San was like that because he was holding your hand. He smiled at San and let go of your hand. “Ah, sorry.” then walked past you and him leaving you alone in the hall for a moment. San looked at you as if he wanted to say something.

“Y/n... I–” he opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted him.

“They’re waiting for us.” you started walking away slowly. San got irritated at how you didn’t want to pay attention to him so he decided to force you look at him. He grabbed you by the arm and pinned you on the wall near him. You gasped out for air as your back bumped into the wall hard. He succeeded. He made you look at him. Although it wasn’t the exact type attention of attention he wanted. He still had succeeded.

“Listen here. If I’m about to speak, no one interrupts me. Not even you. So you’ll sit here and listen to what I have to say to–”

“If you scream growl at me again I’ll kick you hard where I hit you yesterday. I don’t find it difficult at all.” San gulped at the last night’s bad memory. He backed off you and now you were free to go. You flicked your hair and walked to the others.

“Where were you y/n?” Wooyoung whined.

“We were waiting for you.” Yunho said.

“I was gazing at the huge walls.” you laughed it off and joined the boys on the pool table.

After a whille San arrived and Wooyoung jumped on him.

“Where were you San? Did you get lost in your own house? Or perhaps, were you gazing at the huge walls as well?”

“No.” he answered sharply and his eyes fell on you who had stopped playing as he walked in the room. Wooyoung noticed the awkward atmosphere so he decided to lighten it up. He put an arm around San’s neck and chuckled.

“Come play with us. It’ll be fun.”

“I don’t want to.” San tilted his face away from Wooyoung’s. You noticed that Wooyoung was trying to lighten up the mood for San. You were aware that you pissed him off earlier. He wanted to tell you something amd you didn’t let him. Would he want to apologise? Whatever it was he was goimg to tell you, you’ve lost the chance to listen to it. You decided to help Wooyoung and make San play with you. You thought of using the easiest method. Make him feel that you doubt his confidence. You grinned and spoke up.

“He will probably lose. That’s why he refuses to play with us.” San looked at you.

“What?”

“Are you that afraid to lose?” you continued just wanting him to fall completely for this. Which happened.

“Are you assuming that I’m weak and a coward?”

“What? Am I wrong?” your grin got bigger as you got what you wanted.

“You shouldn’t say such things to him.” Hongjoong whispered in your ear.

“Just watch.” you whispered back at him which made Hongjoong curious. San walked up to Yunho and stretched out his hand.

“Give me the pool cue. I’m going to prove to y/n that I’m no coward. Bring it on.” your grin got even bigger after San had accepted your challenge.

“Let’s play.” you said but Wooyoung stopped you both before starting the game.

“Wait. How about making a bet?” he suggested.

“Yeah let’s make a juicy bet.” Seonghwa continued Wooyoung’s idea.

Taglist : @reeateez @xduygu-arsx @paigeeastman @moonmark98 @leicy0756 @kpop-khh-writer-trash @chonsayeosang

(whoever wants to be added just say so)

[choco-mark]

A Marriage of Inconvenience (7)

overall pairing: mafia!jeno x mafia!oc

overall genre: angst | smut | fluff

warnings: language, mentions of violence + death, mentions of drugs + drugging + drugging someone else, attempted murder, hyuck hitting on y/n, abduction, explicit sex, thigh riding, choking, bit of bruising on the sides

summary: when two mafia gangs decide to end their family feud after decades, your mother decides to give your hand away to marriage of their son, lee jeno. he seemed to hate you from the moment he laid his eyes on you, but could the resolution lead to something much more than a bride and groom?

words: 5k

masterlist

requested by 🤡 anon

1 May

You weren’t about to say that you loved the idea of getting married to Lee Jeno, the most absolute asshole on the planet to you, but the idea was even a matter to you any longer. It was so unplanned, that was what you had thought when Mark had barged into your room that morning with a dress in his hand and a few servants at his heel, but the moment you had entered that ballroom with the dress pooling over your body in the most uncomfortable fashion known to mankind, you knew that it wasn’t unplanned: just, no one seemed to think it was important to tell you.

Jeno had barely looked at you throughout the entire wedding, and even though it felt so wrong marrying him when the two of you were in a—rough patch, you couldn’t help but feel a tang of hurt when he kissed you with no emotion whatsoever. You felt like the entire reception was a complete joke, being ended almost immediately after the actual exchanging of rings and a ‘talk’ between the two families. Jisung had given you a long, long hug, and so had your mother, who congratulated you on your marriage. 

But your mouth dropped open in the largest shock when Mark had—very awkwardly given you a pair of nice looking underwear after the wedding and also told you with so much guilt in his heart that the Lee family practiced consummation. He left you to an empty room with just the lace in your hands as you stared down at it with so much anger coursing through your veins. They expected you to be a virgin, that’s what they expected, they expected you to be pure and put out for one of their members to take as their own. You didn’t know how to take it.

“You don’t like it?” You jumped at the sugary voice, your head shooting up to be met with a shade of chocolate-colored hair, your arms involuntary scrunching in on the sight of him. It didn’t matter how many times he showed himself to you, you didn’t think you would ever get used to seeing him pop up around the palace with that crazy smirk and your honest belief that he would whip out another syringe and plunge it into your body. “It’s pretty. You know, I chose it for you.”

“Y-You what?” You choked on your words, watching cautiously as Donghyuck walked into your room with a slow sway of his hips. You would admit that he was extremely good-looking, with the thick locks of his hair and the deep color of his skin, but he made you extremely nervous at the same time. Maybe it was the way that he always looked at you as if you were prey, or if it was the way he was always wearing that cocky expression on his face, but something seemed off about him almost constantly, and right now wasn’t an exception.

“I’m kidding, sweetheart,” he cooed, scanning you as he noticed you were slowly inching away from him. “Aw darling, don’t be scared of me. I’m not going to hurt you, it was just an innocent little joke.” His eyes were dark, searching yours intently before he sighed, stopping a good distance away from you and raising his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m not coming any closer. Alright? Now, tell me why there’s an ugly frown on that pretty face of yours.”

You made a face, gesturing at the fabric in your hands. “I—didn’t know that your family did something as stupid as consummation after marriage. I was just a little in, uh, shock, I guess you could say.” You fiddled with the lace, glancing away from the man.

“It’s not stupid, sweetheart, it’s supposed to be ceremonial.” You were about to scoff at his words, about to send a snarky remark back to him before his body was in front of you, his face barely an inch away as he knocked the fabric away from your hands. They dropped to the ground, your heart increasing in speed as he made you stumble backwards, your legs hitting against the wood of the bed frame. “I can’t believe Jeno even put a ring on you,” he grabbed your swinging fist with ease, twisting it behind your back as he held you close to his body. A shuffle came from his pocket as you tried getting out from his grasp, your legs failing as he banged them against the bed painfully. His nose brushed over the side of your neck, trailing his face up until his cheek was brushing yours. “He kept saying it, she’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine.”

There was a needle at your neck, piercing past the skin as he injected yet another substance into you, your body turning weak from the sensation as you continued to struggle in his grasp. A hand went over your mouth, clamping down your protests as his lips pressed a soft kiss to the edge of your jaw. “He doesn’t deserve you, baby,” your eyes fluttered from his voice in your ear, your back pressed against his chest. “I’d treat you so much better, baby. So much better than he ever could.”

Jeno was sitting at the end of the perfectly made bed, his foot tapping rapidly into the floor as his mind soared with thoughts. Not only had he been confused with the fact that there was a formal consummation, but also the fact that the wedding had ended nearly an hour ago. He was actually expecting you to be waiting for him, but it had been fifteen minutes into the scheduled night of consummation and he was getting impatient. I didn’t scare her away right? Maybe she’s still getting ready? But it’s been too long, she should be here by now. What if she doesn’t want to sleep with me again...I was shitty in bed, wasn’t I? I even made her cry—  

“Want me to check on her?” He raised his head at the sound of his older brother’s voice, blinking without a thought before he shook his head. “No? It’s been a while though...”

“I’ll go see what’s up,” Jeno stood up, running a hand through his hair a few times, ruffling it from its usual well-kept demeanor. Anyone could tell that he was uneasy from the way his kept clenching and unclenching his fist, and from the way his eyes were darting from side-to-side without much reason. 

Your room wasn’t too far from the room that was supposed to belong to the both of you, but it did require him to pass a few flights of stairs to get to the floor that you were on. Supposedly, he thought that you were still getting dressed or something, or maybe you had gotten lost again. Stuffing his hands down his pockets, he sighed one last time before walking down the hallway that led to your room.

Jeno knocked on the door a few times, waiting impatiently for you to answer until there was no sign of life from inside of the room. He gave another sharp rap to the wood, pressing his head against it to see if he could hear anything. It sounded as if there was no one inside, making him groan. Were you ignoring him? “Y/N? Can you open the door, please?” He added the politeness at the end, hoping that maybe it would aid in your allowance to opening up. “Y/N?”

He waited another moment before sighing deeply, trying to keep himself calm. It was hard, knowing that you were in there completely ignoring the fact that he was waiting for you outside. “Okay, fuck, fine. I’m coming in then.” His hand rested on the handle, expecting it to be resistant to his turn but it moved with ease. It wasn’t locked. “Y/N?” He pushed in slowly, his eyes taking in the completely empty room. Did she leave already? But...I would’ve seen her on my way here, right? Unless she’s lost.

Jeno’s foot was hard against the floor as he stepped forward, his head tilting down the fabric scattered on the ground. Your lingerie, he assumed, considering it’s innocent white color and the pretty pattern that he could almost imagine on your skin. Leaning down, he pulled it up into his hand, grazing over the fabric before he heard a clatter, and he looked back down.

“MARK!” 

You could feel the haze heaving over your head once again, the familiar feeling taking over you as you inhaled deeply. The memories floated back to you in less than a moment, allowing you to keep your eyes shut as you awoke. Always being drugged by a handful of Lees. Thought it would be over at least now.

Your breath hitched as you felt an arm snake over your stomach, a body shuffling closer to yours until it stopped, soft breathing taking up your left ear instead. You let go of that breath inside of you, taking a chance to open your eyes just a smidge. Thankfully, your dress was still adorning your body as you let them open completely.

You heard Donghyuck’s breath on your neck as you turned in the slightest, your gaze falling upon his sleeping figure. He looked peaceful, you guessed, but you couldn’t help but feel stupid once again for letting him into your emotions. It should’ve been obvious that he wanted to take you as his own, just the way Taeyong did, but his relationship with Jeno stopped it. Well, it didn’t stop you now.

He was so close to you, his entire body smelling sweetly of a masculine cologne, the entire scent taking up your nose completely. You felt dumb, getting drugged on the same day as you got married. Well, I guess that’s what happens when you’re part of a mafia gang.

You slowly placed your hand upon his arm, grasping it slowly to push it off your body. As you held your breath deep in your chest, you pulled yourself off the bed. Should I leave? Should I kill him? Should I like...maim him or something?

Or should I go back to my room? Jeno’s...room. I was supposed to be there in—half an hour ago. Not to mention I don’t even know where I am. All these fucking rooms look identical to each other, I could either be next to Mark’s room and three floors below mine. Fucking Lees.

You clasped your hands together, feeling the fabric of the wedding dress growing itchy on your skin. The coldness of your wedding band was still upon your finger, somewhat surprisingly as you held out your left hand for examining. The wedding band that your—husband had slipped onto you not so long ago.

Husband. That word sounded so unfamiliar on your tongue, even in the mere sects of your brain. You had only ever referred to Jeno as your fiancee before, and now to say that he was married to you would take a while. Especially since your entire relationship with him was, confusing. You knew that you were supposed to have love, the way that princesses fell for their princes and vice versa, but that didn’t even seem possible for you. Not for some girl and boy of rival gangs, there was no royalty, and definitely no love.

Yet you wanted it, probably as a guilty pleasure of your past that you couldn’t even get your head around. You wanted love so badly and you wanted someone to love you, right in the same fashion. You never thought that perhaps, maybe, you could be in love with Lee Jeno, the complete asshole of a man that couldn’t help but show his cockiness in everything he did, but also the man that...treated you like his little name, princess.

I hate this dress so much. You bunched your hands into the front skirts, pulling them against your skin as you took in a deep breath. What am I supposed to do now? Leave? Stay? Kill him? Oh, fuck, I really just want to kill him. You turned around with caution, focusing in on Donghyuck laying sprawled across the bed in a messy fashion. Donghyuck...so why’d he tell me his name was Haechan before? Did he want to hide his identity or something? With a fake name? That’s kind of...pathetic.

You tilted your head. If I just grabbed his arm, twisted it in front of his chest, and then choked him, he would be under my grasp until he’s dead. Or if I... Your eyes fell upon the several syringes on the bedside table. No, I can’t do that to someone. That’s cruel. You blinked. But that’s exactly what he did to me. 

But I’m not running away like a coward. I’m not a Lee.

You hoisted up your dress, cracking your knuckles before perching yourself on the bed, causing a slight depression on one side as you swung your leg over his torso. With another breath, you fastened your hands around his neck, grasping lightly as you felt him stir. You couldn’t turn back at that moment, especially when he was awaking, but your brain only registered the words that he had said to you that day in the red room. You won’t be able to kill me, because deep down, you know that you don’t have it in you.

“Aren’t you a married woman?” Donghyuck’s hands were fastened over your wrists, forcing your hands away from his throat with a strength that you couldn’t overcome. His voice was low and raspy, yet it was still filled with pride as he pushed your body back, making you land painfully onto his legs. “I didn’t know that you were so bold, sweetheart,” he sat up, dragging you closer by the arm until you were straddled across his crotch, sitting atop him in a position that made you—so uncomfortable. But you couldn’t move, not with his hands forcing you in place. “You couldn’t even wait for me to wake up?”

You snarled at his words, watching a disgusting smirk grow over his face as you launching your hand at him, slapping him sharply on the cheek. He hissed, looking back at you with only humor in his eyes as he whipped away the hair that had fallen into his eyes. “Did Jeno teach you that?” He grasped your hand as you went for his face again, forcing it down with his face inching closer to yours. “Did Jeno let you slap him like the weak man he is?”

Taking the chance, you leaned down against his neck, nudging the fabric of his shirt away from the skin to bite down hard. Donghyuck’s grip loosened, allowing you to slam a hand down against his chest, making him fall back against the bed. “You’re right,” your hands were pressing against his windpipe, his arms flailing at his sides as your knees held them down. “I am a married woman. Shouldn’t that make you—my brother?”

He scowled at the word, his leg raising up to painfully knee you in the back. You tried to keep still, but his force pushed your body off of him, nearly making you fall off the bed. “Don’t call me your brother,” his hand wrapped around your bare ankle, inching up the skirts of your dress. “I’m far from it, Y/N.”

Of course at the moment, the door behind the two of you flew open, making you whip your head back at the motion. You raised your foot, smashing it into the man’s face with a quick hit. It was Jeno, and Mark. But along with them were about three other Lee soldiers, making their way in immediately to grasp onto Donghyuck. You felt relief course through your blood at the sight of them, letting yourself make your way off the bed. However, you looked back, seeing Donghyuck struggling under the grips of the soldiers as he was brought to Jeno. From where you saw it, he spat in his face, making Jeno glance away from him in disgust as he was pulled away.

You could only imagine how...horrible you looked right now, completely messed up from being dragged from your room to this one in your wedding dress and then drugged, and then having fallen asleep on a bed next to your brother-in-law to trying to kill him. But Jeno’s eyes only fell on your disheveled figure with a sense of relief as well, his eyes softening at the sight of you...still wearing the clothing the two of you had gotten married in.

He stepped forward carefully, standing in front of you for a few moments before reaching down, pulling your hand into his. You felt yourself flinch, making him look at you with concern in his eyes before it faded, only blinking without saying any words. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Jeno’s gaze fixed upon your neck however, his other hand grazing across the scar of the puncture. He cursed under his breath, he already knew.

“I’m fine,” you gave him a half-heartened smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly as his eyes met yours again, and he mimicked your expression. He‘s not getting mad? “Really, it’s fine. I’ve built up a tolerance. And...it wasn’t heroin.” It couldn’t have been. It didn’t have the same effects. And that shit is...expensive. 

The next few actions surprised you; he pulled up your hand, bringing in proportional to his face before his lips pressed against the skin, kissing you with a sugary touch. You watched as Mark’s jaw dropped slightly from behind, making you silently giggle at his reaction. From what you gathered, it wasn’t something he did very often.

“How about,” he scanned your body, “we get you out of this dress? Hmm?”

2 May

From the way that Jeno had treated you all night, you felt like he was trying to make up for something that he had missed in the past. Every move he had made was slow and soft, often accompanied by a smile grazing his lips to show you that he was liking what was happening. It contrasted from the way he had showed up at the wedding reception with a blank face and a goal just to slip a ring onto you, but it made you a tad bit happy that maybe, he also didn’t hate the fact that he was marrying you.

It was currently the morning now, the morning of the next day and you had woken up to find yourself in a lavish bathtub leaning against your husband’s chest. It occurred to you at that moment that he had set up all of this, probably not very long ago, and had carried you from the bed to the bathroom, and laid inside with you. His arms were fastened around your torso, holding you with ease as his chin rested on your shoulder. Jeno realized you had woken up, and started to rub soft circles into your skin. “Good morning,” he whispered in your ear, the calmness of his voice sending reassuring waves through your body as you visibly relaxed under his touch. 

“Hi,” was all you mumbled, falling into a trance as you felt his lips plant feathered kisses up and down the sides of your neck, stopping behind your ear to nuzzle his nose against you. “Did you,” you tried to gesture around, but your hands only flung water into your face, making you flinch. Jeno chuckled. “...do all of this?” He hummed into your shoulder, feeling your hands resting on his thighs.

You basked in your thoughts to the silence, your mind only falling on the one thing that had been plaguing you for so long. Just his presence was already making your heart race, and you didn’t know why, but it felt so nerve-wrecking that you were sitting completely bare against him even though you just had the world’s...longest consummation the night before. He was making you feel nervous, you realized, so self-conscious over yourself with the feeling of his fingers rubbing into your abdomen with no care. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“You,” you answered immediately, your eyes widening in realization to Jeno’s laugh. You shut your eyes tightly, feeling the embarrassment take over your body like never before, tensing up at the touch.

“Me too.”

He continued placing kisses on your skin after that, silence overtaking the room as you let yourself lean back against him and relax. It was calming, laying in the warm water with your eyes shut and soothing touches being placed upon your skin. But you were still working at full capacity, your brain not registering anything that was going on. It still hadn’t hit you that you were actually married to Lee Jeno, the same man that had tested your knife skills and almost led you to slit his throat. The same man that had taunted you with his egotistical words and made your blood boil.

But he was also the man that had come to save you and your brother from your abductors, the man that had slammed you against your bedroom door and fucked you until you couldn’t walk, the man that had woken you up to his skillful tongue, the man that had exchanged rings with you and kissed you in front of both of your families, the man that had found you with yet another abductor, and the man that had just given you the time of your life not so long ago.

“Jeno?” you pronounced his name carefully, feeling the taste on your tongue as you let it slip from your mouth. He hummed, urging you to continue. You gulped, taking a short breath. “Do you—like me?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry to break it to you, but, we’re married.”

“I—you’re not answering the question.”

“Yeah, I like you,” his reply came out muffled by his mouth pressing against your skin. You felt your heart raise a little at his answer. “What about you?”

“H-Huh?”

“Do you like me?”

Yes. Your mouth stayed shut, the words not able to come out. Your fingers pressed against his thighs, maybe a little too hard because he hissed, and you muttered out a small apology. “I think I like you too,” you said with a lowering voice, your confidence being thrown out the window with your slight confession.

“You think you like me?” His hands moved away, moving to hold your sides before he squeezed slightly, making you jump at the motion. “You don’t know? You don’t know if you like me or not?”    

“Er—no, I do.”

“You do, what?”

“I do like you!”

“Good,” he shifted you around, pulling you over his legs. Your eyes darting from both of his, watching him widely as you saw a large grin spread across his face, confusing you. Jeno sat up a little, running his hands all over your body before they went to your breasts, and he cupped them. It didn’t even seem sexual from the way he was looking at you, and the next move he made surprised you; his mouth enclosed over one of your nipples, sucking at the flesh carefully. You would’ve fell back if you didn’t grab onto his shoulders at the right moment, leaning yourself backwards to give him more access.

And, it was about to be a very long morning as well. Hopefully, it would lead to more nice mornings, and calming baths after a long night. Well, you could only wish so much from a mafia man like Lee Jeno. Right?

“I can’t,” you whined out softly, feeling your husband’s cock harden against your palm for what felt like the hundredth time this day. As much as you would rather have a better set of words, you really weren’t exaggerating when you said that the two of you had literally been fucking the entire day. When Jeno said he couldn’t get enough of you, you thought he was being romantic. Little did you know that it was his high sex drive.

“Just one more time, please?” Jeno’s pleading voice got the best of you, just like it did the many times before as he brushed a piece of hair from your face. His blond hair was sticking to his head from the amount of sweat that the two of you swapped and shared and stuck into each other, and you were nearly drenched in it as well. Not to mention, you were a wreck. Your legs were this close to giving out, and you weren’t sure if you could cum again without blacking out. 

He turned towards you as he saw your eyes flutter shut for a moment, his hand moving to cup your cheek softly. “Can I have your color, princess?” Jeno had insisted that he establish a safe word system before this had all started, and it had confused you slightly considering you had never used one before, but you were starting to learn that you liked it. His eyes held concern as you shook yourself out of the haze.

“Green,” you huffed out, letting out a breath you didn’t know you suppressed, your mouth twisting into a soft smile. “Just once more, I don’t think I can take another round...after that.”

He nodded, inching forward to kiss you. His arms pulled you over his body, making you lay sprawled over him; your tongue fought its way into his mouth first, exploring him with a moan ripping out of your throat. “I,” Jeno pulled away, holding your head in his hands as he caught his breath. “...want you to ride me.”

And as much as Jeno would never even admit it to you, or possibly, even himself, seeing you get off to his cock was a fantasy that he really imagined too, too much. Seeing you cum was one thing, the way your face would looked absolutely fucked out and in another dimension, and seeing you from between the valley of your breasts while he was eating you out was another thing, but seeing you bounce on his cock with every lasting strength in your body? Now that was a show that he needed.

You were dripping already, regardless of the fact that you didn’t think you could get so wet after so many times, but you shifted down to his cock, taking him into your hand as you pumped him carefully. Your hands planted down on his stomach as you sunk down, taking him fully until you felt a moan choking at the bottom of your throat. But you, unlike him, could admit that your husband, Lee Jeno, had a very nice cock. And you were going to take advantage of it.

On top of the fact that you were already exhausted, you somehow found the strength in you to lock your hands around his throat, watching as his eyes widened in submission to your action. You could’ve smirked, you thought, but his cock had you feeling like you were on another planet, and you squeezed at the sides. Jeno, on the other hand, was about to go insane. Insane because your choking was making him tense up so much faster than he expected, and he was basically forcing himself not to cum.

Your bouncing was a mess, completely out of control and messy as you desperately chased after the high that you had reached so many times earlier, but needed once again. His hands dug into your hips, holding you tightly as you continued. “Fuck, your cock feels so good,” you couldn’t help but let the words tumble from your lips, and Jeno could’ve died in that moment. Yet his liking for your voice showed in other ways, his cum filling you up again with a soft groan. You hadn’t realized he had cum under you felt his dick softening, and you whined softly.

“You came?” 

You sounded frustrated, but he forced you onto his thigh instead, making the mixture of both your and his liquid fall onto his skin. “C’mon, princess,” he guided your hips with his grip, watching as your orgasm started building up again. “Cum for me.” This position was even more ethereal, at least according to Jeno’s view, with you rubbing yourself against his muscle with so much force that he thought you were about to cry. 

And you let out a cry as you soaked his skin, your vision blacking out for a moment, it seemed like, but when you opened your eyes again, Jeno was between your legs with a wet towel, cleaning you up. “Oh, you’re awake.” He tucked your body under the sheets, letting himself slip beside you with a kiss to your cheek. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” it was true, but you couldn’t deny the fact that all of that was definitely the most sex you had ever had with one person. “And hungry.” Your stomach was screaming at you, yet you didn’t feel like moving. “How about you?”

“Good,” he muttered, his voice slurred; you could tell he was struggling to stay awake. “Tired, too. You were so good.” His face nuzzled into your neck with those words, holding you closer to his body.

“You were good too,” you whispered, your eyes giving out as you let your body tangle into his. “Really good—”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah...”

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m hungry too.”

previous | next

well?!?!!?! this is the final part of the amoi series!! thank you guys so so much for loving and supporting this series, and yes, there is an epilogue coming out soon for a full closure kind of episode (so don’t worry too much). but please understand that this kind of character development was hard to write so...it’s also why jeno and y/n don’t randomly confess their love for each other, since i’m trying to keep it realistic (and they’re confused themselves). but anyway, thank you!!

and a special thanks to my first anon (🤡) that trusted me to write this fic, and thank you so much for requesting it in the first place. ♡

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Sinners & Saints - Chapter One

                     Special thanks to @statell​ for all your help.

Find on AO3

Chapter One

Galerie Charpentier is home to Sotheby’s Auction house in the center of the Parisian art world and host to almost eighty auctions per year. Art buyers worldwide watch for pieces to add to their collection and millions of dollars change hands as the gavel comes down on the final bids. A rare Rembrandt was up for sale today. One of three self-portraits done by the artist and the only one still in a private collection. The estimated price at auction is twenty-eight to thirty-five million dollars for the eight by twelve-inch painting. It will elevate any collection to new boasting heights and there is a lot of interest.

Jamie Fraser walked the halls of the auction house and checked in on his team trying to stay clear of buyers flocking into the building. He could care less about the art bought and sold today. He was here to catch a master art thief, his nemesis, who bested him at every turn. Jamie was number one in the world for profiling and catching the most accomplished thieves until he signed on to find Casper, the most prolific art thief in Europe. He was dubbed Casper because he came in and went out like a ghost, leaving nothing behind.

Jamie’s jaw clenched thinking of the many times he was closing in on his prey only to have him vanish with the prized art. This time was different, he could feel it. He was tipped off by a black-market snitch that told him the Rembrandt would be in play soon and that painting was being sold today. Casper had to be here, and Jamie would leave him crippled when he took him down. Payback for leading a merry chase for the past two years.

Jamie walked quickly toward the back entrance to verify the doors were locked. He was surprised to pass a large group of people in one of the auditoriums and glanced at the signboard, Doctor Claire Beauchamp, professor of fine arts, University of Chicago. By the size of the audience, she was quite popular. Jamie caught a glimpse of the striking professor in a body-hugging dress that she wore like a fashion model. Black rimmed glasses were perched on her nose above red lipstick and a pile of hair on top of her head that looked exquisitely messy. She pushed a coil of hair off her face and looked up at a huge screen, flipping slides with a remote control. One word came to Jamie’s mind; fascinating. His earpiece crackled and he spun around to head back to the front of the building.

Claire Beauchamp clicked for the next slide, clicked again, and again to no avail. She apologized to the audience and ripped her headset off to find some assistance. Five minutes later she was back to wrap up the lecture with the slides moving perfectly.

Jamie walked by the auditorium three more times as the professor worked her way through the questions, signed copies of her new book, and accepted the thanks of the Parisian art world. Jamie watched her, knowing the auction was underway and the clock was ticking on Casper’s entrance.

“Doctor Beauchamp, there’s a rumor you’re joining the team to catch Casper. Any truth to that?”

“Well, no. He has stolen pieces that I have a particular fondness for, and I would love to help catch him, but I have not been asked. It’s just a rumor.”

Claire shrugged her shoulders and smiled at the last of the people leaving. She stuffed her materials into her briefcase and took a deep cleansing breath. She had one more meeting and a plane to catch back to Chicago. She would give anything for a day to herself in Paris to wander around the Louvre and spend as much time as she wanted with the Masters. Maybe next time, she thought.

Claire emerged from the auditorium and made her way to the back entrance where she was allowed to park. She stopped abruptly and opened her case, smiling when she saw her headset tucked safely inside. She pulled the case up to secure the retaining strap and lowered her arm as the explosion blew her sideways, off her feet, and into a wall that was coming down. She could hear herself screaming until something heavy hit her on the head. Her screaming stopped.

Claire was vaguely aware she was laying in rubble from an explosion. The rubble was warm and had hands that held her upper arms, and a voice that kept asking if she was alright. She tried to lift her head and bumped it on something above her.

“What the bloody hell?”

Her hands were splayed on someone’s chest and she felt around deciding it was a male with a body like Arnold Schwarzenegger! Claire looked to her right and left seeing the tiny space they were pinned into and her heart pounded in her chest, feeling the claustrophobic fear that made elevators impossible.

“Jesus Christ, I have to get out of here, right now! Help me get out of here Mister, please!”

She felt the beefy arms wrap around her and hold her down making the panic even worse. Her wiggling made it hard to hear the man saying her name, getting more stern by the second. He finally held her tightly to him and warned her not to move.

“Doctor Beauchamp, Doctor Beauchamp, Claire! Stop moving! Something is holding the tonnage of walls, ceiling, and live wires above us. If you knock it loose it will kill us. Do you understand?”

Claire gripped his arms and panted from her attempt to escape. She listened to his voice calming her down and telling her to breathe with him. He was very encouraging and kept telling her they would be all right. He talked her down from a panic attack but kept his hands on her to be sure.

“May I call you Claire?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Alright, thank you. I need your help lass. Look around for something strong, like metal, a strong metal box, or something like that not connected to anything, free moving and about a foot tall. Do you see anything like that?”

“Why, for what?” Claire finally lifted her head a few inches and looked up at the man’s head, but it wasn’t there. A very large piece of the wall was suspended right above his throat and his head was on the other side of it.

“Oh my God, oh my God! Sweet Jesus, what are we going to do?” Her panic was rising again, and the arms came around her while the disembodied voice told her to breathe and keep her wits about her. It took several minutes but she finally gained control again and looked around for something strong with the limited space she had to lift her head.

“There are cinder blocks in the rubble, two of them are not touching anything. Will those work Mister?”

“Sorry lass, my name is Jamie, and those might hold this wall up long enough for me to scoot free of it. Can you move one, can you reach it?”

Claire could move the block slowly by stretching her arm until it hurt. Little by little she scooted the cinder block closer to the wall, muttering about a decapitated Arnold and she didn’t want to be alone. Jamie patiently calmed her reminding her to breathe deeply. He helped her push the block under the section of wall and patted her shoulder, thanking her for being so brave. Claire felt the man’s body scooting slowly, taking her with him an inch at a time until he was free of the would-be guillotine.

Jamie laid very still, trying to calm his racing heart. He could see what Claire could not and knew they were buried by at least twenty or thirty feet of debris. It would take hours for rescuers to find them if they ever did. Shafts of light were coming through, but those would disappear when the sun went down leaving them in complete darkness. Jamie felt a murderous rage boiling in his stomach.

“You fucking bastard,” was whispered through clenched teeth. “I will hunt you right into hell before I give up.”

“Who’s a bastard, who will you hunt, who’s going to hell?”

Claire was patting his arm trying to comfort the rage she felt in his tensed muscles. It scared her because she didn’t know this man. Jamie’s arms encircled her lightly for a few seconds.

“He’s called Casper and he’s a dead man walking because I’m gonna finish him when I find him.”

“Casper? The art thief did this?”

Claire got very quiet for a few minutes before asking, “who are you?”

“Jamie Fraser. I head up the task force trying to catch that piece of shit. Just so you know, we are getting out of here, one way or another, because I won’t let him win.”

He felt Claire shaking and heard her sniffling. He held her, feeling bad because he scared her. He lifted his head to look at her.

“I’m sorry lass, I didn’t mean to scare you. Look at me, Claire.”

Jamie wasn’t expecting the large whisky colored eyes and long black lashes wet from her tears. Her face stole his words for a moment, so he just looked at her. He wanted to touch her porcelain skin and feel the coils of curls that had fallen around her face and shoulders.

“I’m sorry Sassenach, rest now. It won’t be long.”

“Sassenach means crazy bitch, doesn’t it?”

Jamie laughed and Claire bounced on his stomach until she smiled too. “No. It means outsider. You’re a Brit, living in America, trapped in Paris, with a Scott,” he said laughing. He laid his head back down, “tell me about yourself, are you married? Any kids?”

“There is an offer on the table, but I haven’t decided yet. I like him fine but he’s a politician and I’m …not.”

“Tell me more. Why hesitate?”

Claire talked about the senator from Illinois who said he loved her and promised a life of excitement and purpose. Jamie listened to the story of two mismatched people and hoped she would choose herself over a man with plans to change everything about her. She couldn’t see that yet but to him, it was very clear.

“What about you when you’re not chasing a master criminal around the world?”

“I cannot say, it’s been too long. I asked a beautiful girl to marry me once and she said yes but she died in an automobile wreck before the wedding. I haven’t dated since then, about two years now.”

“I’m sorry for your loss Jamie, and if it hurts you, I’m sorry to bring it up.”

“I have never been to Chicago, what is it like?”

The conversation was interesting as they took turns asking questions about the other. Jamie was waiting for some sign, pounding, or yelling, that would indicate workers were close. He heard nothing so far and the light was fading in their rubble pocket. He prayed the night would not be terrifying to the woman on top of him.

“Can you sleep, Claire? I think you should try, it will make the time pass faster. Close your eyes and think about something you do at home for fun, breathe deep, that’s a good lass.”

Jamie could hear Claire’s breathing deepen into her slumber and he closed his eyes hoping to join her. He had a feeling it would be a long night.

Senator Randall was startled by a tap on his shoulder and a note passed to him by his aide. It said Doctor Beauchamp had not gotten off her plane from Paris and was not answering her phone. Frank nodded to the aide and gathered his papers into a case leaving the meeting as quietly as possible. He was calling Claire when the door closed behind him. No answer. Claire was reliable, punctual, predictable, and always called when her plans changed. He felt a nervous twitch in his stomach as his phone vibrated continuously with messages delayed while his phone was turned off. He read through the text messages quickly and was jogging to find his driver and get back to his office.

Claire’s secretary and friend had bombed his phone about an explosion at Sotheby’s, part of the building collapsed, and Claire had not boarded her plane. Frank was feeling a surge of anxiety that was quite unfamiliar and unwanted. He kept his life sterile and empty of drama so he could pursue what made him happy, successful, and energized. He barked at the driver to find a way out of the traffic and back to his office. He couldn’t wait. The laptop lid flipped open and Frank searched for news of the Sotheby bombing. It was all over the internet and the pictures of the damage almost stopped his heart. He started dialing for his aides, giving orders to find her, book a flight to Paris tonight, and get him an emergency number for who was in charge at the auction house. He walked briskly to his office followed by jogging aides handing him notes with flight times, and phone numbers.

“Hello”

“Thank God! Jesus yer hard to find Frank. Ye know whats happened at Sotheby’s. Claire didn’t check-in at the airport, she didn’t return her rental or check out of the hotel. I’m sorry Frank, she is unaccounted for and …”

Frank clicked off of the call when Geillis was mid-sentence. He couldn’t deal with her at the moment, and punched in the numbers to Sotheby’s but couldn’t get through. He assigned two aids to keep calling the emergency number until one of them got a person on the phone.

The sixty-inch television in his office was streaming news of the explosion and the missing Rembrandt painting that was discovered. The explosion was reported as a possible diversion so the thief could get away. One of the aides held her phone out.

“Senator Bradley, sir. He says you won’t answer your own phone and he needs to speak with you.”

“Hello, yes, no I can’t meet tonight, I’m flying to Paris, my girl…” Pausing to listen, “sorry Gary, I can’t, it’s an emergency. No, I won’t be voting tomorrow, I have an emergency, I have to …”

Senator Bradley could be heard from across the room making the aides press into the farthest point in the office to complete their tasks. Frank drew his arm back to throw the phone into the wall and someone shrieked and grabbed her phone away from him. It might cost her job, but this was her brand-new iPhone and no cranky senator was going to smash it to pieces. She headed for the door and disappeared.

“It’s the manager at Sotheby’s, sir. Please don’t break my phone.”

Frank dropped into his chair and reported the news of his missing fiancé, Doctor Claire Beauchamp from the University of Chicago. The manager wanted the name of her rental car company, hotel, and time of day she was last heard from. Frank gave him Geillis’s cell phone number adding she would be the point of contact. Tomorrow would be a ball-breaker and he needed someone attached to their phone in case any news came in.

Hours later, Frank laid in bed in the dark and thought about Claire. So many hours after the explosion and no word from her. He didn’t want to believe it but found little hope she was alive. He closed his eyes.

Claire was shifting her weight trying to get comfortable on the lumpiest mattress ever made. When she moved to her side Jamie’s eyes slammed opened and he groaned loudly from her hip crushing his balls. He lifted her hip and moved her over three inches letting his hands rest on her hip and leg. The dress she wore was knit and very soft. It had pulled up above her knee so Jamie pulled it back down.

He didn’t know Claire, and would never see her again once they were free, but he did not like hearing about her fiancé and that made him feel weird. He closed his eyes again.

“Jesus Christ! What is that?”

Jamie was yanked to the surface of consciousness by a loud and panicked voice coming from a wiggling woman trying to move up his body. His arms came around her and he shushed her, asking what was wrong.

“Something crawled up my leg and it had sharp claws, small sharp claws. I need to sit on your chest.”

Jamie grunted and held her still while he talked her down from another panic. He had worried about rats in the building being attracted to their smell. He told Claire to breathe with him while he stroked her hair in the pitch darkness. She had wiggled up toward his head and now her cheek was pressed against his, her mouth only inches from his. He could feel her relaxing and truly hoped for no more surprises tonight. He fell asleep with his arms around Claire.

Jamie opened his eyes when the noise of pounding pulled him back to consciousness. He felt Claire pressed against him, their faces touching, and the morning erection that threatened what little dignity he had left. He willed it away, quite unsuccessfully. The banging started again and he smiled to himself, it won’t be long before they are back on their feet, he thought. The pounding gave way to ripping metal and the distinct sound of a backhoe.

Claire moaned and moved to her stomach, rolling her face so her mouth was smashed against Jamie’s. He didn’t want to breathe for fear she would wake up and take her lips away. The noise from moving heavy debris got louder and the light from the new day flooded their pocket. Claire opened her eyes and screamed, pushing away from Jamie and hitting her head hard.

“What the bloody hell!”

“I’ll have you know madam that you accosted me just now, taking advantage of my inability to move and get away. This assault comes after you nearly strangled me getting away from a mouse.”

Claire rubbed her head and looked at the most beautiful face she had ever seen on a man. He could be a movie star with looks like that, she thought. Jamie was trying to look indignant but started to chuckle when her mouth turned into a smile. She looked adorable with a mass of curls pouring over her face as she felt for a bump on her head.

“Do you need me to rub it for you?”

The laugh that followed was genuine, feminine, and he loved hearing it.

“I’ll let you know if I want you to rub it.”

She laid her head on his chest and listened to the cavalry above them. “Sounds like they are making progress Jamie. I think you will soon be free of me.”

“Let’s hope it’s before I die of dehydration. I have never felt thirst like this in my life.”

With nothing to do but wait for the rescuers, they dozed and tried not to move too much. Through the early morning, the efforts above them intensified. The crew boss called a halt to the noise so they could get a radar fix on the heartbeats again. The radar technician moved his finger in a circle above their location and the infrared tech nodded his agreement. The noise continued.

“Jamie?”

“Yes, Sassenach.”

“What is the first thing you want to do when we’re rescued?”

“Drink like an elephant.”

“How is that?”

“Someone hands them a hose and they use their trunk to place it in their mouth. An hour or so later, the elephant pulls it out.”

“I’m quite sure you made that up but it’s still funny.”

“It’s God’s truth, I swear. Next, I will jump into the hotel pool until my body temperature comes back to normal. You laying on me is like a giant quilt heating me through for the last twenty hours or so. What about you Sassenach?”

“I’m down for the elephant thing, and a bubble bath, while I pray there are no flights to Chicago today. I want to lose myself in the Louvre.”

“Your list is impressive but surely a phone call to the senator will be done first, even before you put the hose in your mouth?”

Claire was giggling at Jamie’s charm, “of course, the senator, and then the hose.”

“Your dress is so soft, I woke up petting it like a rabbit in the middle of the night.” Jamie ran his hands down her back for effect and then instantly dropped them to his sides while Claire laughed. He just wanted to make her laugh until they took her away from him forever.

“Don’t move Sassenach!”

“Why? Is something crawling on me?”

Jamie grunted when her knee made contact with his balls as she twisted to look for a bug, or worse.

“No, it’s a phone call is all.”

Jamie reached up and pulled a phone to his ear. He spoke to the rescue worker and described how they were trapped. The phone was then pulled upward through the remaining debris until it was out of sight.

“Wow, how do they know exactly where we are?”

Jamie watched her childlike wonder and smiled at her until the dangling section of wall that had been directly above his throat dropped onto the cinder block making a deafening noise. Claire screamed and held onto Jamie tightly. She buried her face in his chest and cried until he could calm her down again. Claire felt his hand stroking her hair, and his arm around her waist. It was so foreign to be held this way and she didn’t want it to stop but could not force more tears, so he let her go. Jamie smiled encouragingly at her and pointed to the crushed cinder block.

“You see, you saved my life. That means you’re responsible for me forever.”

“Wait. If I saved you, that means you owe me a life, I think.”

“Anybody’s life?”

“I’m not quite sure about that. Maybe it’s like a debt that is paid by saving my life.”

Jamie took a chance and twisted his body and hers until they were lying side by side looking at the other.

“I don’t imagine a professor of fine arts and future first lady of the United States finds her life in peril much. But if you did, I will be the first one there Claire.”

She looked so innocent and beautiful looking at him. He seized her mouth and gorged himself on the beautiful professor. She turned her head for better access to his lips and he felt the exhilaration of her interest, however brief it would be. Aside from inhalation, the kiss continued until a large section that had them pinned was ripped away.

Claire sat up smiling at the men that surrounded them about ten feet up. She waved and stretched her back. A harness was lowered, held still by the men until she was safely in it. She pulled her briefcase strap over her head and was lifted through the debris to safety. Jamie watched her legs until she was pulled from his view.

Jamie looked up at the men, “any of the art stolen yesterday?”

“One small painting is all,” said with a heavy accent.

His stomach suddenly felt like a rock grinder. He asked the man, “quelle peinture?” The man shrugged his shoulders and looked around at the other workers until someone yelled “Rembrandt”. The sling was lowered again and Jamie was tempted to wrap it around his neck, but then Casper would win. He buckled himself into the harness.

Claire was loaded into an ambulance and whisked off to the nearest hospital. She gripped her briefcase and tried to calm her sense of shock at being thrust back into normality and away from Jamie. The EMT bent the straw top of a bottle of water and placed it in her mouth. She pulled the cool water into her mouth and thought about the elephants.

Claire was released by nine in the morning and now sat on her hotel bed with the phone in her hand.

“Sweet heavens, I am glad to talk to ye Claire, I haven’t slept a wink!”

“You are such a good friend Geillis. I tried to call Frank but his phone is off. Is he on his way to Paris?”

“No, he tried to leave last night but there’s an important vote today, it couldn’t be missed. What do ye need me to do? I already checked flights and they are booked today and tomorrow, even first class. I booked ye on United, leaving Paris at ten in the morning on Friday. All your appointments are canceled because ye were missin from a building that was bombed and I dinna ken if you were dead or alive.”

Geillis sobbed through the last part of the sentence and continued to cry until Claire calmed her down.

“I have quite the war story from the experience. I spent almost twenty-four hours laying on top of a giant Scot with a gorgeous face and bulging muscles.”

Claire giggled at Geillis’s reaction, knowing her friend would find that part of the tragedy delicious. After the call, Claire pulled her filthy clothes off and dropped them in the wastebasket. Flipping the security bar on the door meant she would be undisturbed while she scrubbed the dirt away. Sinking into the hot fragrant bubbles, she exhaled and thought about the rest of her day. She would meet with her client later and conclude their business and then tomorrow was all for her. The silver-lining as it were.

The exquisite bed in Claire’s room was so expansive one might miss the 8x12 inch Rembrandt in the center. Soon it would be handed over to the client in exchange for a deed to an Italian property valued at three million dollars. All in a day’s work.

[sweetmemories2606]

StingYu Angst (Birthday Fic)

In honour of the lovely @ship-ambrosia​'s birthday today, I have written this one-shot featuring Sting and Yukino's relationship.

Here are the details:

Title: Focus

Summary: Watching Dimaria nearly kill Yukino, Sting is reminded of the last time when she had been in danger and he had failed to protect her. 

Timeline: Tartaros Arc (flashback), Alvarez Arc.

Warning: This story is based on chapters 16-17 of my Royal AU, therefore it contains spoilers. 

Word Count: 2k

Link: Focus

Hope you enjoy!

                           ______________________

                              October 18th, X792

Sting was rushing through the castle with Macbeth and Erik, who had saved him after he was trapped in the dungeons by Zeref. They were supposed to be making a grand escape, but upon feeling Yukino's presence and sensing that she was in danger, Sting knew he had to go to her.

He stopped suddenly, surprising the other two, and removed the concealing spell which Macbeth had placed on him.

"What the hell, man?" Erik whisper-yelled.

"You weren't supposed to undo the spell." Macbeth muttered, annoyed.

"Yukino's that way." Sting pointed before giving them a firm look. "I need to see her."

"You can see her when we get to the ship." Erik told him.

"I am not..." He was interrupted by a yell that made his blood run cold.

"Yukino!" It was Juvia's voice and the moment Sting heard it, he knew that he had to get to that room. Now.

                          ______________________

They rushed through the corridor until reaching a wooden door. Sting could hear voices coming from inside, but didn't pay much attention.

His heart racing in his chest, he broke down the door effortlessly, only for his heart to drop into his stomach at the heart-wrenching sight before him.

Yukino lay helplessly on the floor, skin pale and her sky blue dress was quickly being tainted with blood coming from a wound on her stomach. So much blood. "Yukino!" He screamed her name, desperate.

"Sting..." She called him weakly, but her relief was clear.

"Shit!" Erik and Macbeth yelled, bringing Sting's attention to the other occupants of the room. He spotted Dimaria, who stood with her back to them, holding onto a bloody sword.

"What now?" She turned around to face them, looking bored.

"Of course it had to be you!" Sting yelled, filled with anger. Then his eyes widened once he finally noticed Juvia, who was crawling towards Yukino.

Realising that the water mage's wedding dress was also being stained with blood, he became worried for his friend too. I hope she'll be alright…

He watched as Juvia took Yukino's hand and squeezed it gently. "Yukino…I'm so sorry."

The celestial mage coughed, clearly struggling to breathe. "Juvia..."

Overwhelmed by fear and sorrow, Sting found himself frozen in his spot, watching everything unfold, and suddenly the room started to spin.

He tried taking in deep breaths to calm himself, but it was no use. Seeing Yukino injured like that brought up a distressing memory of another time when he had failed to protect her.

                          ______________________

                    ��        One year before

"Seriously? That didn't do anything?" Sting said, frustrated.

Him, Rogue and Yukino had found themselves going against the most powerful member of Tartaros: Mard Geer, the underworld king. The trio had been unlucky enough to encounter him after they were freed from the Allegria Curse and a difficult, seemingly endless fight ensued.

"This is getting exhausting." Yukino breathlessly noted. After having summoned 2 celestial spirits simultaneously, she had fallen to her knees, drained. To make matters worse, neither Pisces nor Libra's attack seemed to have any effect on the demon.

"Maybe we should call for help." Rogue suggested while trying to regain his breathing.

After sending another ineffective attack, Sting frowned. "I'm sure everyone's busy fighting against the other demons."

"Even if you had help, it would still not be enough to defeat me." Mard Geer affirmed, smiling smugly. He stood in the same spot a few meters away from them from which he had not moved since the beginning of the fight.

In his arm he held a book which they assumed belonged to one of the nine demon gates. Yukino had tried to retrieve it while Sting and Rogue fought him, but none were successful.

"Won't this guy ever shut up?" Sting complained, rolling his eyes.

"We just need to work together." Rogue said.

After sending another attack, Sting turned to his best friend in frustration. "We've been doing that for the past hour. It's not working!"

Rogue gave him a stern look. "No, you've been distracted, Sting. That's why we're failing to strike him."

"Are you kidding me?" Mard Geer watched them argue in clear amusement, not bothering to attack, but Yukino decided to intervene. "Guys, this isn't the time."

Glancing at her, Sting became concerned at how tired and pale she seemed. "Are you okay?"

She heaved. "I'm okay, but I don't have much magic power left."

He decided to approach her and extended a hand. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you."

Yukino smiled and accepted his help. "Thank you."

They turned to Rogue, who watched them in frustration. "Why won't you two admit it?"

The celestial mage seemed confused. "Admit what?"

He gave her an obvious look. "That you love each other. I'm so tired of watching you ignore your feelings as if it will do any good."

"What the hell, man? Did you have to do this now?" Sting yelled in annoyance.

Yukino blushed as she stepped away from him. "This isn't… the best time."

"There is no right time." Rogue sighed. "If you wait any longer, you might never get the chance to tell the truth."

Sting knew he was referring to the possibility that they might not all make it out alive. A very real possibility considering they had been fighting Mard Geer for so long yet hadn't even managed to scratch him.

Though Sting still refused to believe that they could die, he realised this might be his last opportunity to tell Yukino how he felt.

Glancing at the celestial mage who looked at him with equal determination, he began. "Yukino, I..."

Suddenly there were vines everywhere, trapping him. He struggled against their hold, frustrated at the interruption. "What the hell?"

His gaze found Mard Geer, who smiled in satisfaction. "As amusing as watching you has been, I don't have all night."

"These vines are blocking my magic. I can't attack." Rogue noted in exasperation.

"Don't worry, I'll help you." Looking to his right, Sting was surprised to note that Yukino hadn't been caught.

"No, you won't." Mard Geer smirked in her direction.

"Damn it!" Sting kept struggling, to no avail.

"Humans always tend to fall prey to their emotions, while completely unaware of this weakness." Mard Geer finally moved from his spot and began approaching the trio.

"No, our emotions are what makes us stronger." Rogue said. "It might've taken awhile, but we understand that now."

""Is that so?" The demon raised a brow. "I suppose we'll see about that in a moment."

Sting's blood ran cold once Mard Geer briefly glanced at Yukino, who was trying to summon her spirits. "Let's see how strong you'll be after I kill your beloved."

"Don't you dare!" The dragon slayer yelled in anger, trying with all his strength to free himself. It was pointless.

A giant flower appeared out of nowhere and dived in her direction. Yukino tried to move in order to dodge it, but Mard Geer trapped her in place with more vines.

Sting and Rogue were powerless to save her, forced to watch as the flower moved towards her. Nothing could be heard aside from the latter's desperate scream of her name. "Yukino!"

                          ______________________

They had been miraculously saved back then by the arrival of Gray Fullbuster, who froze the vines with ease then broke them. His intervention was the only reason why Yukino hadn't died that day.

Focusing back on the present situation, Sting prayed that someone would intervene again and save Yukino's life.

Thankfully, Juvia was one step ahead of him. "Water-make: blood." She whispered the spell which he recalled worked as a blood transfusion.

She's risking her life to save Yukino. Sting realised and knew that he must do the same. Turning to Dimaria in anger, he threatened. "You are going to pay for hurting them!"

She stared at him with disinterest, not impressed once he activated dragon force or when Erik and Macbeth turned into their most powerful forms.

"I don't have time for this." Dimaria rolled her eyes in annoyance and Sting barely felt once she used her magic to freeze time.

                          ______________________

The next thing he knew, she was on the ground, unconscious, and Jellal Fernandes stood by the window. Though grateful that Jellal had saved them, the dragon slayer's attention solely was Yukino thus he rushed to her side.

Briefly apologising after nearly knocking Jellal down, he didn't stop until he had arrived in front of Yukino and Juvia. Kneeling down, he gently took his girlfriend into his arms. "Yukino, talk to me."

Realising how cold she was, he panicked. "No, this isn't happening." Feeling his blood run cold at the thought that he might've lost her, he leaned against her chest, praying there would be a heartbeat.

It was faint, but unmistakable. She is still alive. "That's it, babe. That's it." Sting lifted his head before pressing a kiss against her forehead, closing his eyes. "Thank you."

"Is she..." Hearing Juvia's voice, he turned to her.

"She's still alive." Bringing Yukino deeper into his arms, Sting glanced at her wound. "But there's so much blood."

"I'm so sorry." The water mage told him, eyes filled with tears.

Sting assumed she was blaming herself for what happened, so he was quick to reassure. "It's not your fault."

Juvia nodded, giving a thankful look, before turning back to Jellal. "Jellal...She needs a healer."

"You both do." The latter concernedly noted.

"I'm fine." She attempted to reassure, but was disproved by a groan.

Sting noticed that she looked much paler than before and there was a wound on her stomach which was bleeding. Not good. She needs help too.

"We need to go. Now." Jellal firmly said before turning to Macbeth. "Do you have enough magic to use your invisibility spell on all of us?"

It took him a while to answer. "I do."

"Good." Jellal nodded before approaching Juvia and kneeling by her side. "If you allow me, your highness, I will carry you until we reach safety."

It took her a while to answer and Sting assumed she must have mixed feelings about abandoning this wedding. He was thankful, though, that she seemed to realise that leaving was the best option. "Okay"

Jellal carefully took her in his arms then glanced at Sting. The latter nodded before standing, holding Yukino protectively against his chest.

He was ready to do whatever it took to get her back to the ship safely, no matter the challenges they might have to face. He would fight even Zeref if that's what it took to ensure they managed to live the life they had been planning.

Throughout their escape, Sting tried keeping his thoughts positive and fixated on their plans for the future. Recalling how his proposal had been interrupted, he reminded himself to do it again.

Upon wondering about her possible response, he couldn't help but to smile. Then once he thought about their friends' reactions, happiness increased. Rogue and Minerva would be ecstatic, having encouraged him to propose months ago.

Sting convinced himself this was what awaited them; that Yukino would be alright and they would get to start their lives together back at Sabertooth, surrounded by their friends.

This hope gave him strength even as he began to feel weakened; tired after being trapped for days then having used too much magic. He was immensely relieved once they arrived at the ship and quickly sat down with Yukino still in his arms.

Ignoring as the others settled, Sting glanced at his girlfriend. Her face remained concernedly pale, her body was colder than normal and there was still so much blood. However, what mattered most is that she was alive and he would ensure she stayed this way. I won't fail you again, Yukino, I promise.

[prettycutebunny]

Stockholm syndrome

The white kimono hugged your body like a glove. You can hear a frantic scream of your soon to be your mother in law at the people doing your hair and make up. You were marrying a zoldyck. A bride of Someone from such a highly status can be nothing but perfect. The silky white dress filled so much like a Shroud. In a way it was, after today you will forever be dead in the eyes of everyone you’ve ever known. You stopped existing the moment you were taken here. Any objections or attempt of escape were met with a harsh punishment that led you to the blink of insanity. You felt the extreme need to cry, but you’ve lost the right to. Any sign of weakness meant a harsh punishment. You wanted to leave do bad but you simple couldn’t. The mere thought of it made your head hurt and your body paralyzed. You heard his voice in a chant

“Mine”

“You can’t leave”

“You need me”

Who's that shadow holding me hostage?

I've been here for days

Who's this whisper telling me that I'm never gonna get away?

You’ve always been a good person, helping others in need and trying to be as kind as possible. You’ve never regretted your actions, not until it lead you to him. You were helping in a fundraiser. It was for the people who lost their homes to a recent hurricane. You’ve been on your feet since the morning and you couldn’t help but head to the only table with empty seats in it. There’s only one guy sitting in it. The fundraiser was open to anyone who’d donate 100,000 Jenny and more so it had all kinds of people in it , But you didn’t except his type. A strange man with purple batch of hair and needles all over his face. Everyone else was keeping a 5 meter space around him. You never were one to judge so you simply smiled at him and sat in silence. You felt him look at you with the corner of his eyes and you looked and smiled brighter.

“This is one hell of a party ! Thank you for your donation.”

He didn’t respond but stared. You kept talking to at least make the atmosphere less awkward? But you were met with silence.You tried you hardest to stop the shiver and kept talking. He seemed to be watching you intently so he was listening right ? When the host knocked on his glass you looked up. It was time for the toast and you were excited ! Then it happened, he just fell dead to the ground. Everyone was dumbstruck for a moment before the screams echoed through. You turned to the guy next to you to find him simply gone. You felt a splitting headache. Every single corner of your skull ached. Your body gave in as you tried to stand up. What happened to you ?

know they'll be coming to find me soon

But I feel I'm getting used to

Being held by you

The headache continued and so was the sighting of the stranger. He looked nothing like he did in the party but you just knew it was him. He was everywhere you looked. Your mind was screwing with you. His blank stare judging and assessing you as you gone about your date. This creepy unsettling feeling wouldn’t go away. Somehow all your debts were cleared, you’ve been offered a scholarship out of nowhere, and your job decided you should work as an accountant in a desk instead of bartending and dealing with drunken men. You knew it was too good to be true. You just knew it. You’re a semester away from graduation so why not enjoy it ? The only draw back to it all was your unsettling feeling of being watched and the sighting of strange people. It wasn’t like the dead eyed stranger who came as a hallucination, they were real people. The only common thing they all had was their clothes. A nice black pant suit. Most of them looked normal enough and always kept their distance when you actually saw them. It was on the day you graduated it all changed.

Oh, baby, look what you've done to me

Oh, baby, look what you've done now

Oh, baby, I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way, oh o-oh

Oh, baby, look what you've done to me

Oh, baby, you've got me tied down

Oh, baby, I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way, oh o-oh

He was waiting for you in your apartment. Every fiber of your being wanted to scream, yet you couldn’t. He stood looking at you just as intensely as he did when you first met him.

“I’ve been waiting for you until you finish your degree”

He said so blankly like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“You seem confused ? I’ve been waiting for you and now you’re ready. You don’t have any unfinished business right ?”

You wanted to laugh and cry. What did he think you were ? A ghost ? He took you to his home. Just like that? You’ve lost your freedoms. He took you to another world. World of every luxury you could ever dream of. You can never forget the way he simply introduced you as his future bride to his family. His mom was the one who showed any signs of emotions while the other treated it like it was like he told them about the weather. No one cares about what you thought or wanted. They were family of a assassins and you now you’re become part of them.

“Your actions are restricted because of my needle. If you behave, I’ll remove it okay ?”

Needle ? Assassins ? Mind control ? What type of fantasy game were you thrown into ? You’re ashamed to admit it but you were getting used to this life. The life of comfort and luxury.

Who's this person that's holding your hand

And talking about your eyes?

Used to sing about being free but now they’ve changed their mind

The wedding ceremony was brief and formal. You’re now a zoldyck. Just like that you’re part of the deadliest family in the world. He escorted you to your shared room and you felt yourself crying on the inside. You weren’t looking foreword your wedding night at all. You were so scared. You’ve barely spent any time with him and now you have to share a bed. Once he opened the door you felt your tears falling as your breathing quickened. You don’t want this. He stopped looking at you confused.

“Why are you leaking crying ?”

“Please , I cant do this. I don’t even know you”

He titled his head.

“This is troublesome.”

“Why me ? You can have anyone else !”

He looked at you with what seemed like fondness in his eyes.

“You were the first person to smile at me.”

You blinked. Wait what ? That can’t be it ! That doesn’t make any sense? First ? Why ? You felt him approaching in light yet dominating steps. He was like a hunter approaching it prey. His hands wrapped around you in possibly the most awkward embrace ever existed.

“Mom said hugs would make up closer”

He said in a matter of a fact voice as he leaned in.

“I saw you and I wanted you. That’s all”

You sniffed and as you felt yourself laughing. That’s it ? His awkwardness and robot like motion were ..... cute ? What is the matter with you ? His hand stroked your hair roughly like a robot trying to mimic the action of humans comforting each other as you started laughing quietly. What is the matter of you seriously? He looked down at you and you swore you saw his lips raise a little

“You’re not crying anymore. Good.”

know they'll be coming to find me soon

But my Stockholm syndrome is in your room

Yeah, I fell for you

The first few days of your marriage was spent in the most awkward touches in the planet. The way he touched your face , hair , back. The way he put you on his lap or hugged you. It was so robotic it always made you laugh. He didn’t mind, he seemed to like your laugh. You couldn’t help feeling some fondness for him. As crazy as it sounds, he wasn’t bad. Compared to other people who would grow up in his environment with parents like his, he wasn’t bad at all. He didn’t force himself at you, yell, or used physical force. He let you leave the room and befriend the butlers. It was unspoken rule. You can do whatever you wanted as long as you didn’t leave or betray him. You didn’t want to anymore. What would you do outside anyway ? Work your ass off to afford decent living as you try your hardest to find a guy who wants to settle down and not waste your time. You’ve got all the money you want and an online ordered husband. Yes he wasn’t like the typical store bought one but it did the trick, and now you’re laughing alone like an idiot. Your husband wanted children, your in laws wanted grandchildren, and you can feel the butlers treating you like glass to protect the imaginary child inside you. Everyone wanted you to have a kid. You never thought of it before but would you ? It would seal your fate forever inside this family. More than you already did anyway.

All my life I've been on my own

I use a light to guide me home

But now together we're alone

And there's no other place I'd ever wanna go

Baby, look what you've done

(Look what you've done to me)

You laid next to your husband who simply hold you as he laid like a statue. He never slept next to you, but for some reason he’d lay next to you everyday as you drifted to sleep. Your mother in law idea no doubt. You felt the blush creeps in as you laid next to him and whispering.

“Illumi?”

“Hmm”

“Let’s have a baby”

You said in the tiniest shyest voice you’d ever master. The way his body shot up meant he heard you. His soulless eyes looking straight into your soul as you blushed harder and pulled the covers over your head. His cold hand stopping you in your track. He leaned down next to your ear with heavy breathing.

“What did you say ?”

“I want us to be a family”

You’ve went through your life alone. No matter how many friends you’ve had or how close to your family you’ve been you’ve felt alone. Inside his arms you’ve felt safe. Was it the needle ? You didn’t care. You were happy. You have everything. What good did your outside friends did to you anyway ?

“I love you”

You whispered satisfied as you’ve both laid down after consummating your marriage. He didnt replay, but you’ve felt him tighten his embrace.

Baby, look what you've done to me

Baby, look what you've done now

Baby, I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way

Baby, look what you've done to me

Baby, you got me tied down

Baby, I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way

[squidproquoclarice]

Really, really pleased for have gotten to write for @rdrsecretcupid2020.  I was asked to write for @my-funky-little-cowboy​, who requested some soft Sadithur.  For Valentine’s Day I decided to go for a super soft UA (despite where it starts, heh) where the worst traumas of 1899 didn’t come to pass, and so most people lived.  Hope you enjoy!  Soft Sadithur with some Tillier and Abijohn, and maybe a nod towards potential future Charen, which she also requested. ~~~~~~~~~~ March, 1901 White Deer Crossing, Minnesota For the second time in her life, Sadie Griffith was getting married.  That fact carried with it both love and a particular sobering reality, given she’d said I do once before less than five years before, and she’d meant it with all her heart then too.  Hadn’t truly thought about the weight of till death do us part until she’d sat there in that cabin in Ambarino, holding Jake’s hand as the pneumonia won the fight.  There one moment, gone the next.  She’d had the rest of that whole winter to rage and grieve and rail against God, to be numb, to cry herself to sleep.  But at least she’d been there, at least he’d been able to say goodbye.  Far too soon, but a good death, compared to some. She’d buried him in the spring when the ground thawed, packed the wagon, and drove away, knowing she’d never return.  She couldn’t run that farm alone, so far from everyone else, but she could have let the livestock and the few crops go and become some kind of hermit, surviving by her hunting and trapping, living as alone as she’d been through those endless snowy days and nights. But she couldn’t live with the gaping wound of Jake’s absence everywhere she turned.  So she’d headed south.  Run into a gang of toughs calling themselves O’Driscoll Boys who’d shot Betsy, and seen a lone woman and her few belongings as easy pickings.  She could have given in, but that part of her that felt frozen since Jake took sick three days after falling through the ice, not only thawed, it exploded.  If she was going to die, she was damn well going to fight as much as Jake had, and she wasn’t going to be pushed by some swaggering bastards who viewed a widow and saw only prey.  Especially since Jake had ridden that route to avoid bandits in the hills, and gone hunting to replace the provisions they stole, as far as she was concerned, they had as good as killed him themselves. The next wagon by found her standing there over four corpses, blood spattered.  Rifle still in hand, pointed at the driver as he hopped down, ready to make it five.  Ragged, feral, furious, taking out some of that anguished scream that had lived inside her for months.  He’d looked at her, looked at the dead men and the dead horse still in the wagon traces, nodded slightly, and said, voice almost nonchalant despite the horrible sight she must have made, “Seems you can hold your own, ma’am.  But as you got no horse now, and being as there are more of their kind roaming about,” he gestured towards the bodies, “I wouldn’t recommend camping alone.  So if you’d like to travel with us a bit, you’d be welcome.”  Seeing curious faces poking out from wagons further back in their caravan, she’d relaxed a bit, seeing women there with them. Not the most auspicious first meeting, perhaps, but looking back, all she could see was that Arthur had been kind to someone with nothing left to lose.  But that was the way of things.  They all had stories about how they’d been alone, desperate, scared, lost.  How this ragtag band had taken them in and forged them into family.  Their leader had died, but Dutch Van Der Linde was still spoken of with a sort of hushed reverence like some kind of hero or god.  Secretly, she much preferred Hosea, warm and approachable and so human, with his roguish twinkle and his jokes about how all he wanted in his dotage was to sit around and dandle some more grandchildren on his knee. Children--a hope she and Arthur had both had to put away, and now taken down again, dusting it off with care.  They’d traveled for a long time, and somewhere along the way she’d become fully one of them, an outlaw wandering and hunting and killing and scamming alike.  But that didn’t matter.  They were family.  This was what they’d all wanted in the end: home.  A good place, peaceful and happy, where this bunch of orphans and outcasts could believe that finally life might be gentle and kind, that something fine could grow from settled roots.

Though Tilly and Javier would provide Jack’s first baby cousin, and she expected Swanson would have another wedding to perform soon enough. She slipped down the hall to Arthur’s room, though like her, he would have packed all his things to move it to the cabin they’d built for some privacy, like John and Abigail’s.  Knocking, she heard him answer, tone distracted, “Yeah?” She didn’t reply, just opened the door and stepped in.  He stood at the window, looking out over the preparations in the yard, looking pensive, or nervous, or both.  They’d talked so much, starting in those long hours out hunting together, about Jake, about Eliza and Isaac, and the sadness in him made sense.  He’d had part of his soul ripped from him too, and something about that drew them to each other.  Paradoxical that in sharing sadness, it also made her more able to joke and laugh with him, but perhaps that feeling of kinship and trust and comfort stood behind it all and made it so easy to be that free with him in both joy and sorrow. He turned to see her.  That smile, that glow in his eyes, a man who’d learned the feel of hope all over again, still caught her heart with a fierce tug.  He was a pleasant looking man to begin, but God, seeing him alight with happiness and wonder and hope made him beautiful.  She only hoped that fate would be kind, and she’d get to grow old with him. Crossing to the window, she peeked out at the bustle going on.  “That is--quite the commotion, ain’t it?” “Too late to elope, I suppose?” he asked her, and she sensed he was only half-joking. She reached out, taking his hand in hers, glad for the reassurance of it.  “They’re our family.  You’d be sorry if they didn’t get to be a part of it.” “Sure.” “Besides,” she couldn’t help but tease him, “we’re gonna get plenty of time just to ourselves, I promise you that.” “Well, we’re gonna get teased like hell whenever we come out of that cabin, so I’d say let’s make it a few days at least before we take a chance and emerge.”  There was a blush alongside that lopsided grin, but that gleam in his eyes told her that he was more than eager to keep making up for all those lonely, loveless years.     They watched for a few more minutes, standing there together without a need to say anything.  She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d come to see him one last time before meeting him before Swanson and taking his hand as he changed into her husband.  He was her friend, like Jake had been, and he’d be her friend before anything else, no matter what.  But it comforted her all the same.“I didn’t ever think…” She knew what he’d started to say.  He hadn’t ever expected a day like this, a future like this. Neither had she.  After Mary, after Eliza, after Jake.  After becoming a killer and an outlaw.  There was no way to turn back the hands of time.  She could never be that Sadie again, and he would never be Jake, and she could never be Mary or Eliza for him either.  But they didn’t need to be.  This would be a different happiness than she’d had before, but not a lesser one.  Maybe this peace and this second chance meant even more so for its coming after such darkness. “We ain’t young, no, and we ain’t innocent no more.”  She heard the husky edge to her voice, fighting against the swell of emotion.  “But Arthur, that don’t mean we won’t be happy.  That we shouldn’t be happy.”  She had to believe that they could.  They’d been damaged, torn, broken, but they had chosen to be good people all the same.  Both of them helped people where they could, chose kindness rather than hatred, and that soothed something.His hand tightened around hers.   “Sadie?”

“Yeah?”  She turned away from the window, towards him. “Thank you.”  She understood he meant it for far more than a few words.  He looked like he wanted to kiss her, but he smiled, touched her cheek with his other hand.  “Guess I’ll save all that for later.” Just then, Mary-Beth burst in, asking, “Arthur, Sean wants to know if you’ve seen--”  She gave a little cry of alarm, looking at the two of them.  “Arthur Morgan, you know you ain’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding, it’s bad luck!” “She came to my room, how is this my fault?” “Just go talk to him, you know how he gets when he gets a notion in his head, and I don’t want him ruining a lovely wedding!”  Ushered out by Mary-Beth back towards her own room, she let herself be shepherded, trying to not laugh.  Tilly, Abigail, Jenny, Karen, and Susan already waited there. “Well, Mrs. Morgan,” Susan said, giving her a smile, “should we get you ready?”  She gestured to the dress laid out on the bed.  A widow couldn’t wear white, not for a second wedding.  She had to reflect with some amusement it wasn’t as though any of them in that room, though none of them was technically a wife, could claim virginal purity regardless.  But in truth, Sadie would rather not wear white, even if it had been an option.  She’d seen more than enough of icy, pristine white.   The rich yellow called to mind the glow of light and fire, the vivid burst of spring flowers, and that was what she needed, a dream of life and warmth.  They’d all helped her make the dress after Arthur finally mustered the courage to ask her to marry him at Christmas.  There were long hours of loving labor in every stitch, every pintuck, every bit of embroidery.   She looked at all of them: Mary-Beth with her love of romance, practically vibrating with glee.  Tilly, and the slight curve beneath her skirt, with her own hopes and dreams.  Abigail, still hoping John would marry her in truth, but eyes shining with happiness as she clipped a few last threads on the dress.  Jenny, shy and sweet, deftly twisting flowers into a circlet for her.  Karen, briskly polishing Sadie’s boots to a high shine, and she wondered if she could prod Charles to finally ask Karen to dance.  Susan, who’d loved and lost, more than once, and sometimes she was still as prickly as anything, but in the end, she loved them all and fought for them like a she-wolf.  In a way, this was their day too, their celebration. Caroline was in Oregon, and their rift as sisters might never be mended.  Her mother was long gone, dead shortly before she and Jake finally gave up on their family’s farms in Tumbleweed and ran off to Blackwater to marry, and from there to Ambarino.  So she’d been alone that day, and so had Jake. She was getting married again today, but this time, it wouldn’t be alone.  She’d have family around her today, and for the future, the kind of love from a large and boisterous family that she’d never known before.  After struggling so long either alone or with only Jake to help her, that thought of belonging, of the support of being woven into something strong and sturdy with so many threads from other people, made her smile.  She threw up her hands in mock resignation.  “All right, all right, I put myself in the capable hands of you gals.” ~~~~~~~~~~ “It’ll be fine, Arthur, you’ll see.” Hosea said, putting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.  “You’re as jumpy as a cat.” He glanced over at Hosea.  “And I suppose your wedding day went smooth as silk?” Hosea let out a laugh that barely skirted turning into a cough, but he waved off John’s offered arm, sitting down on Arthur’s bed unaided. “No, I spent the whole morning pacing a trench into the floor, threw up an hour before the ceremony, and then the thought of kissing poor Bessie at the altar after that about threw me into a panic.” “Sounds like a poor start to things,” John remarked, leaning back against the chest of drawers, crossing his arms. “Well, I talked the preacher into getting me some whiskey.  Wasn’t quite sure whether I wanted to make myself a stiff drink or clean my mouth out, but it seemed it’d suffice for either.  I chose the latter, in the end.” “Why’s that?” “Cause tense as I was, I wanted to see her on that day as clear as I ever had.”  Hosea glanced over at John first, then at Arthur, giving one of his self-deprecating smiles.  “Though I still wasn’t quite sure she wouldn’t come to her senses and leave me at the altar, mind.” “Hosea, please…”  The last thing he needed right now was that worry.  Even now he could feel it trying to take root.  Sadie would see sense, and say that there was no way she could tie herself to the likes of him.  There had been two women in his life who’d seen something in him fit to refuse to be his wife, and for good reason, so why should this time be any different? Because this was Sadie.  Because ever since he’d seen her, terrifying and magnificent on the roadside, dead O’Driscolls and a dead horse, things had simply worked.  With Mary it was all back and forth, giddy dreams or ferocious fights, and nowhere solid to build, just castles in the air.  With Eliza, he’d started so far back, feeling like he must be a shame in her life she didn’t quite know what to do with--the outlaw and the drunken fool who’d gotten her pregnant.  With Sadie, it had always been possible to just be, and she saw fit to accept that, and somehow, even love him for all that he both was and wasn’t. “She won’t run,” Hosea said, voice going soft.  “She knows you.  She’s family.  Been with us long enough to understand who we are and what we all come from.  She’s that rare type--the ones who can stand right by your side as a partner, who make you want to be better without making you feel like the lowest fool in God’s creation.” She was just like that, and he supposed that was the difference.  She was his friend, his partner in so many things, and that made it easier more often than not.  Though he’d still agonized plenty before asking her to marry him, and suspected he’d made a hash of it all the same in his anxiousness.   Arthur heard the bittersweet note in Hosea’s voice, and sensed he knew precisely where that longing ache stemmed from, because how could it not?  “I wish Bessie had met her.  That she was here today.” Hosea managed a wistful smile.  “Me too.  But however long you’re given, it’s worth it.” Sadie had said much the same.  It hadn’t been an easy thing for her to risk this again, after such a short time with Jake.  Just like opening himself up to the possibility of children, of being a father for real this time, terrified him even as much as he hungered for it.  They were going into this with their share of scars and fears, but they would be there for each other through it.  That was what made it bearable, and what made him able to cautiously step out onto that bridge they’d built together back from that wilderness of pain where they’d been so lost, trusting that it could hold his weight.  The other side of it was still a mystery, because he wasn’t sure he could truthfully say he’d ever been fully happy for more than moments, but he looked forward to seeing where that road led.   They’d gotten a good start on it, all of them, by settling down here on this land where the woods met the prairie, living a quiet and simple life.  Dutch had died two and a half years ago now, dead in some senseless brawl across the western Grizzlies.  At first Arthur had blamed himself for not being there, which was stupid since they’d all understood that Dutch justifiably hadn’t wanted company while going to town to scratch a particular itch at the saloon.  Then he’d felt lost as anything, as had all of them, bereft of that father-leader who’d drawn them all together with that magnetic charisma and the sense that Dutch had some magnificent bigger plan behind it all.  What were they now?  A bunch of vagabond nobodies, bandits and whores and scamsters that no place wanted.  And yet, they were each other’s still--they were family. They’d hunkered down that winter near Strawberry, paralyzed by that loss, and hit the road in spring as much out of habit as anything.  It was the woman and her dead horse and those dead O’Driscolls that snapped them out of things.  She needed a place, she needed people, and they’d given her that, without Dutch there to lead them to it.  They could stand for the best of Dutch’s notions without all that high-flown shit from Evelyn Miller that frankly most of them hadn’t cared about all that much, and which lately had seen them seem to stray so far from those ideals anyway, becoming more violent, more selfish.  The system was too big and vast to fight, and they were too tired, needing something simpler and surer than to be on some visionary quest.  They wandered the land, and things boiled down to a simple, pure code they agreed they could and should live by: we’ll help those who need it where we can, and stand against those who hurt others where we can.

By last summer, the notion of a hearthfire rather than a campfire called to all of them.  They belonged to each other, but having somewhere to call home, a place to belong, mattered.  If the world wouldn’t give them that place, they would damn well make it themselves, and so they had.  They’d bought this land and built on it, and they’d make this their home.  Civilization was civilization, and chances were it would follow them, and they’d have to deal with that in the end, but it meant neighbors and friends, not just the horrors of the big city. Another knock on the door, and he couldn’t help hoping it was Sadie again.  But it was Tilly who came in.  “Hosea, Pearson’s about ready to murder Bill.” Hosea sighed, shaking his head.  “I’ll handle it, sure.”  His was a quieter, less thunder-and-lightning leadership than Dutch’s, but it proved what they needed.  They needed to be a family, not a rebellious cause, and having Susan and Hosea in charge marked that shift.  In the end, it had been strangely easy to just stop fighting an impossible cause, and to cherish the things they already had. Tilly turned to go, but Hosea held up a hand.  “Stay a minute, before I go deal with it.”  He chuckled lowly.  “Though I suppose you don’t need a murder on your wedding day.” “Don’t make for a good omen, I imagine,” he agreed dryly.  He yielded the chair to Tilly, gesturing for her to sit. Hosea looked at the three of them, and smiled.  “Well.  Look at you.”  That smile flickered into nervousness.  “I told myself I’d do better saying the things I need to say before I…”  He cleared his throat.  “Any luck, I’ve got a few years left in me anyhow.”   “Aw, Hosea, don’t be talking that kind of crap.” “John, don’t.  I’ve had a good run, and it’s a better end, when it comes, than I ever would have thought.  I love all our dear miscreants, but you three, you’ve always been something special.  You’re the children I never--you’re my children, all right?” He understood that, looking at John and Tilly.  He’d been fourteen, John twelve, and Tilly fourteen when they’d been taken in.  They were something different than the others.  They were the ones who’d still been children, who Dutch and Hosea and Susan, and Bessie when she was alive, had helped finish raising.  The ones that Hosea had taught to read and write, whose nightmares he’d heard.  His brother and his sister in the truest kind of way.  “Arthur’s getting married today.  Tilly, I expect that’ll happen soon.” “Javier asked,” Tilly said softly.  “We just ain’t said anything yet.”  She gave Arthur one of those cheeky smiles of hers.  “We didn’t want to steal the thunder.  You waited long enough for this, I figured.” He gave her a smile in return.  “Thanks.” “John’s already provided me with one delightful grandson, but I do hope you plan to do right by Abigail, being as we’re now honest folk ourselves.” “I asked after Arthur asked Sadie,” John protested.  “But Abigail said just the same as Tilly, all right?” “All right, John.  I expect young Lenny and Jenny might be next.  But anyway, seeing all of you settled, comfortable...it does me good.”  His eyes brightened, and his smile was genuine, guileless.  “Thank you.  For making an old man’s last years so happy.  Now, I expect you’d best tend to the bride, Tilly, and John, you should check that boy of yours ain’t got into any mischief.  Arthur, why don’t you help me prevent whatever Bill-based mayhem we got?” Following Hosea down towards the stairs, hearing the raucous female laughter from Sadie’s room as Tilly slipped in the door again, he said, “You know you’re enough to cow Bill all by yourself, Hosea.” Hosea paused on the stairwell.  “Smart boy.”  He looked Arthur in the eyes for a long moment.  “I do love all of them.  But you’re my oldest, and the one most like me, and we all know how they rely on you.  So they’ll look to you, and Sadie too, when I’m gone.”  He put his hands on Arthur’s shoulders.  “You went and became a man.   And I don’t mean by marrying.  Got nothing to do with that.  But you finally came into your own these last few years, and I’ve watched it happen.  You’ll be OK without me.  You’re a better man than me, Arthur.  You always were a good son, but now you’re a man a father can be proud of.” Oh, Goddamn, was a groom allowed to cry on his wedding day?  He held it back only with effort, but he couldn’t help reaching out to give Hosea a hug for those words that felt like they meant everything.  “Thank you.” “Of course.  You need a bottle of whiskey?”  His tone was light and teasing. “No, no, I’ll be fine.”  He’d drunk far too much in the past to try to not feel things, to numb the guilt and sorrow and crushing self-loathing.  Like Hosea said, today he wanted to see everything, to feel everything, to remember everything.  It came down to simple belief: Sadie wouldn’t feel compelled to abandon him, and he wouldn’t fail her.  They would work together, be happy together, because the love and trust and friendship was there.  He’d seen it in Hosea and Bessie for all those years.   The rest?  It would work itself out.  He was here, surrounded by family, surrounded by love, with a home.  Things looked pretty good. Hosea smiled, giving him one last pat on the shoulder, then letting go.  “Damn right you will.  Now you head back up to your room, I’ll get the boys together to get you ready, and let’s get you hitched.” 

[rosemary-morgan]

Josiah Trelawny x F.Reader: You deserve better - Part 1

(Pictures are from Pinterest)

Good day to all of you wonderful people 🌹💗 I started a new story about Josiah Trelawny. I had this story in my head for a long time and now I have decided to finally write it down. Lovely @gangofgunslingers​ inspired me to create this photo collage. She´s also a great writer - you guys should check her masterlist 😉

My sweet @micau2​ also inspired me with ideas 🌹💗 Thank u

Summary: On the way to Saint-Denis you will meet the charming and funny Josiah Trelawny. For both of you, it is immediately clear - you don't want to lose sight of each other. But the social rules prohibit you from meeting him - after all, you were a married woman...

Warning: mention of an abusive husband

Part 2 / Part 3

(¯`v´¯)                                                      (¯`v´¯) `*.¸.*´                                                        `*.¸.*´ ¸.•´¸.•*¨) ¸.•*¨) (`’·.¸(`’·.¸  ¸.·’´) ¸.·’´)  (¨*•.¸ (¨*•.¸`•.¸ (¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´ ¸¸.•¨¯`•               •`¯¨• ¸¸ `•. `•.¸) `•.¸) `*.¸.*´                                                       `*.¸.*´

You deserve better

You ran. You ran as fast as you could - with your suitcase in your hand you tried to reach the train station in time, but you could already hear the signal from far away. It could be heard all over Rhodes and it was clear that the train was leaving and you hadn't made it in time. With a heavy sigh, you stopped and closed your eyes, trying to catch your breath. "Oh, no..." Your only hope now was that you didn't have to wait too long for the next train - if there was another train today. You entered the station in Rhodes and went to the mailman. You wanted to ask when the next train would come but unfortunately, you were not lucky. "I'm sorry, miss. But that was the last train to Saint-Denis for today. The next one will leave tomorrow afternoon." That was too long. You had to be back in Saint-Denis before tomorrow morning! Rhodes had been a spontaneous trip. Saint-Denis was a big city and it was very exciting to live there, but you also needed a quiet place to relax. You had been there for the past three days. "Is there no other way to get to Saint-Denis? What about the carriage?" That would take longer, but you would be in Saint-Denis in time. However, the young man advised you to wait for the next train. "Well, you know Miss, I don't think it would be a good idea to travel alone. The carriage will drive through Lakay and I fear that this area cannot be avoided. It´s a direct way to Saint-Denis." You sighed softly because you had no choice. What could happen? It wasn't dark yet, but you should hurry if you want to be home before dark "I'll take the carriage, good man." "But miss, that's...!" You placed the money on the counter and silenced him. Your decision was made. It would have consequences for you if you didn´t reach Saint-Denis by tomorrow morning...

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"Miss, I don't want to worry you, but strange things have been happening in Lakay lately. I wish you'd change your mind and not travel with this carriage." The cabby also tried to stop you and that made you feel queasy. Well, you knew about the many alligators and poisonous snakes, but it seemed to be something else. You didn't even want to ask what the real problem was. "Sir, I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself. Also, my husband is waiting for me tonight and I don't want to be late!" Well, your husband didn't even know you were in Rhodes - he wasn't home. He had been out to New York for business and he wouldn´t return until tomorrow. "As you wish, m'am!", said the coachman and he helped you get into the carriage. When the carriage started moving, you stared lost in the distance. Your thoughts were in Rhodes. It had been nice days and it was a shame that you had to leave this place. You were thinking about your next destination. Maybe next time you should go to Strawberry? It had to be a beautiful place. You had only heard good things about that place. The next time Henry left Saint-Denis, you would travel to Strawberry. But Henry was not allowed to know anything about your travels. Because in his opinion, his young wife had to stay at home. Going on a trip and possibly talking to strange men? No way! You sighed heavily when you think of him and your stomach cramps painfully. Henry was anything but a good husband and you were afraid to see him again. But what choice did you have? After all, he was your husband and you had to deal with the fact that you couldn't escape him. You had to live with this man. And it wasn´t easy...

The sun was slowly coming to an end and she covered the sky over Rhodes in a warm orange. The cabby became nervous when he saw that the night was coming. He raised the speed of his horses and you didn't miss that. You had to hold on tight to avoid being hurled over the seats - that was definitely too fast and you shouted to the coachman to slow down. "Can you hear me?! Slow down!" But with the loud noise caused by the wheels of the carriage and the hooves of the horses, he couldn't hear you. The road was very uneven and the carriage slowly got into an imbalance. You shout at the coachman, but he wanted to be out of the marshes before dark. But that would never happen because the next moment the lines that held the horses on the carriage broke and the carriage crashed into a nearby river...

(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´

Two men were riding their horses not far from you. They were also on their way to Saint-Denis and had chosen the same road as you. However, the two men were well armed, which made them feel safe passing Lakay. "It was time to get a revolver, Josiah. You can't be unarmed." "I don't believe in brutality, dear boy." "You will be grateful one day." "Sure, Arthur." Josiah had to admit that times became more difficult for him and for the whole gang and it was probably not the stupidest idea of ​​him to get a gun. Josiah might be a gentleman, but a gentleman also knew how to use weapons. Josiah could also be targeted by the Pinkertons at any time. And O'Driscolls and Lemoyne Riders were also omnipresent in this area. So it would be wise not to remain unarmed. "By the way, thank you, Josiah. You didn't betray us when these bounty hunters had you. I deeply admire that." Arthur had always claimed that Josiah would even sell his own sister to save his own skin - but that was wrong. Josiah had to take a lot when he was tortured. He was a tough guy. "Well, Arthur. I may be a thief, but I'm not a traitor." Arthur laughed softly and they continued their conversation until they heard shouts. The two men immediately brought their horses to a standstill and they looked around. They wanted to find out where the cries for help came from. "That comes from that direction!" Said Arthur, pointing his fingers in one direction. Josiah nodded to the young man and they rode off together. They followed the call for help - your call for help! You were still in that carriage. Water had gotten into it and you couldn´t move your leg without pain. You had hurt yourself and in this dress, which was soaked with water, it was even harder for you to move. "Damn it! What am I going to do now?!" Today was definitely not your day and where the hell was the driver? He was passed out on the floor. He had fallen off the carriage when the horses broke out. "Help! I need help!" Hopefully, someone would come soon and hear your calls for help... You just hoped that it would be good people who would find you here. There wasn't much to steal from you, apart from some jewelry on your body. Like your wedding ring, necklace and earrings. But a young woman alone in these areas would be easy prey for criminals. Especially since you were hurt. Suddenly you heard horses approaching you and you don't hesitate to call for help. The day couldn't get any worse - at least you hoped so.

"Arthur, look!" ' The two men rode to the carriage. This lay overthrew in the river. They also saw the unconscious cabby. Josiah and Arthur saw a suitcase lying in the mud. This must be dropped out during the accident. The suitcase had burst open and clothes lay in the sticky mud. Arthur and Josiah got off their horses and hurried to the carriage, where they heard your voice. "Arthur, I'm trying to open the door. You take care of that gentleman." Josiah climbed over the axle and the rear wheel onto the carriage and then he looked into the two most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Your eyes looked up at him anxiously and he couldn't blame you for being scared. It was definitely not fun to be in such a situation. You looked up to the unknown man and you immediately noticed his well-groomed mustache, which belonged to a very attractive face. He gave you a soft smile, which you immediately return. You didn't know why, but the stranger's charm attracted you and his sea-green eyes were breathtakingly stunning. "I'll help you out of the carriage, miss. Don't worry. My friend and I heard your calls for help." You were very relieved that you would finally leave this carriage. Josiah bent down, reached for the door handle and tried to open the carriage door. Then he discovered something that worried him very much: a snake lay motionless in the folds of your dress. She was olive green and dark streaks ran through her body. Josiah became visibly nervous because he was pretty sure that it was a poisonous snake that had made its way into this carriage. "Miss, I ask you to stay calm now." His soft voice made you listen and you looked uncertainly at the stranger. What was going on? "There's a snake in the carriage. Please don't move. Just stay calm and I'll take care of it." Your eyes widened in shock when you heard that there was a snake in the carriage and judging the stranger's reaction, this animal didn't appear to be harmless. The snake had just opened its mouth and you could see its fangs and inside its mouth that was as white as cotton. Sweat dripped from Josiah's forehead; his heart was pounding like crazy and yours seemed to jump out of your chest at any moment. "If you stay calm, she will go away on its own." At least that's what Josiah hoped. He didn't know anything about snakes and other poisonous animals. Except that you had to be calm when you met them. For both of you, it seemed like an infinite time that you had to endure in this situation.

"Josiah?!" Arthur approached the carriage and he looked questioningly at Josiah when he saw that Josiah was not moving. Josiah looked over his shoulder at the young man and raised his hand to signal that he should be quiet. "Snake." Arthur understood immediately. It wasn´t unusual to meet a snake in this area. Fortunately, it wasn't a bloody alligator. In the meantime, the coachman was again conscious, but still very dazed. You looked up at the man who had come to free you from this situation and Josiah could see that you were afraid. So he tried to calm you down by giving you a gentle and charming smile again. You return his smile a little shyly, but that passed when you suddenly felt the snake slowly sliding over your lap and you closed your eyes, praying that she wouldn´t bite you. Josiah was also worried when he saw the expression on your face. He grabbed the edge of the window, leaned forward carefully, and then looked down - the snake was finally gone. With a relieved sigh, Josiah closed his eyes for a moment before looking at you. "She's gone", he said relieved and you too sighed softly. "Oh, thank you, sir!" Josiah helped you get out of this carriage and you had to hold on to him well. It was not easy to move your legs with the wet skirt and with that injured leg of yours. Josiah held your hand tight and he made sure that you would stand firmly on solid earth. He held you by your waist for a few moments longer than was necessary. He couldn't help it. Your soft skin, your beautiful eyes that sparkled like two stars, your long hair and by God, your lips were so sensual. "Oh thank you, sir. Thank you very much!" "Josiah Trelawny." He took your tender hand and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of it. "My pleasure, miss." You give him a gentle smile and you stroke a long strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm Y/N Hazard." He was very attractive and he was wearing a black jacket. Underneath he was wearing a white shirt and a blue waistcoat that was elegantly decorated. His black hair was perfectly combed and he had a very well-groomed mustache. But his sea-green eyes were of rare beauty. "Are you hurt, miss?" "I'm fine. No need to worry." However, your leg worried you a little. How should you explain that to your husband? Well, of course, you could lie to him and hope that he believes in your story. But Herny was not easy to fool...

"Miss? Are you okay?" Another man came up to both of you. He seemed to belong to Mister Trelawny. He was holding your suitcase in his hand. It was dirty on all sides. But that could simply be washed off. "Oh, thank you!" You wanted to go to the other man to get your suitcase, but every step hurt and an uncomfortable pull dragged through your leg. A soft hiss came over your lips and the two men looked at each other questioningly and then looked at you. "I think it's better if I take you home." "Oh, Mister Trelawny, that's very kind of you. I have to go to Saint-Denis and it's getting dark." And you didn't want to be left here. The cabby apologized to you several times and asked one of the men to be escorted to Rhodes so that the carriage could be rescued. Arthur took on this duty - of course for payment. He could always use money. Finally, the cabby was to blame for this misery. Arthur said goodbye to you politely and he rode back towards Rhodes while Josiah went to his horse. "Don't worry. I'll take you safely to Saint-Denis. I'm on my way there too."

What a lucky coincidence, you thought. If these two men hadn't been, you'd probably be sitting in the cold water for hours, and you might have got a bladder infection. You knew you shouldn't blindly trust a stranger, but it was absurd to think that Mister Trelawny intended to hurt you after he saved you. You also trusted him - for an understandable reason, you felt that you could. You watched him stroke and calm his horse. He gave him a piece of sugar and you had to smile when you saw that. Henry didn´t treat his animals well. He often used the whip against these poor beings. The charming Mister Trelawny looked at you and you felt yourself blush at the sight of his smile. "We should go. Then we'll be in Saint-Denis before dark." You nodded and Josiah brought his horse to you. He helped you get on his horse. You hold on to his shoulders and you looked into each other's eyes as he sits you on the saddle. You had both legs on one side and Josiah sat right behind you. You could immediately smell the scent of fresh mint on him. Josiah took the reins and you could feel his breath on your neck, which gave you goosebumps. It was a very pleasant feeling. Josiah's ocean eyes admired the delicate skin of your neck and the soft hair that fell over your back in big waves. When he woke up this morning he never expected to travel to Saint-Denis with such a lovely woman.

And on the way to Saint-Denis, you talked about many things. He told you that he was a magician and that he made his money with performances - Josiah could hardly tell you that he was a trickster and part of a wanted gang. Josiah enjoyed your presence and he didn't want to scare you with the truth. You had a charming laugh and you seemed to enjoy this little trip with him too. Well, that's what Josiah hoped. And you also enjoy the presence of this charming man very much. You didn't have to feel guilty about Henry. Who knew what he was doing on his business trips? You were caught in a marriage where respect and kindness were of little importance. All you could do was try to be a good wife so as not to annoy Henry and it was pretty exhausting. It was very tiring and sometimes you wished you had the courage to just run away. But the fear that he would find you kept preventing you from...

"Where can I take you, miss?" You showed him the way he should go and enjoyed the last moments in freedom before going back to your cage behind closed doors. When you stood in front of your house your heart started beating like crazy. Fortunately, Henry was not at home and you managed to be here before him. Josiah was the first to get off the horse and again he helped you get off. Your eyes met again, as did a friendly smile. Oh, you could spend hours looking into his wonderful eyes. "Thank you, Mister Trelawny. That was very kind of you." That evening Josiah took your delicate hand again and kissed the back of it and he enjoyed the feeling of your soft skin. God, he hoped to see you again soon. He didn't know that you already had a husband - because you weren't wearing any ring on your finger. You had a habit of taking the ring off when Henry wasn't with you. So you could feel like a free person during this time. "I hope our paths will meet again soon." Josiah looked hopefully into your eyes when he said that and you knew that it was impossible to meet him again. You were married... But something told you that this risk was worth it. That this man was worth it. What should you do? It would be best if you told him immediately that you were a married woman. But why couldn't you say it? Why didn't these words come from your lips? Instead, you looked lost in his beautiful eyes. "That would be great."

That was the beginning of an uncontrollable fire...

[punkscowardschampions]

Mia & Jimmy & Janis

Mia: [Computer Science project that you have to make a company/logo/business cards/spreadsheets/website/everythang you could think of so it takes a full term or whatever and you have to work with each other in every lesson] Mia: Right, I think we should do a law firm for our business Mia: because my dad is so we can actually use examples to make all our products legit Jimmy: what, like no win, no fee? 👍 can do a funny ad piss easy Mia: That is NOT the kind of lawyer my dad is Mia: funny isn't gonna get us good grades either Jimmy: 💔 Dunno who I'm gonna get to chase my 🚑 now Janis: I'm with Chuckles Janis: you're just trying to make this project most beneficial to you Janis: I don't wanna be a vulture when I grow up Janis: go generic as possible or it ain't fair Jimmy: don't reckon your dad needs the free promo any road, rich girl Jimmy: unless this is a cry for help that he can't get the prey Jimmy: 🎻🎻 Mia: Obviously I want to make it beneficial, I CARE about my grades and future Mia: but I'd love to hear your suggestions I'm sure Jimmy: you after a 🏆 or just a 👏 for trying to get an A? Mia: I get As, new boy, I don't just try Jimmy: I get it, you want 🤤😍 Jimmy: there Mia: Don't be so disgusting Mia: If you two are going to try and sabotage my grade, I WILL make my dad make Sir let me move Mia: I'm not being dragged down Jimmy: crack on, we've worked out your dad ain't busy with accidents at work Janis: Like, please try and use all daddy's clout to get that stubborn prick to do anything he's deciding he's not gonna do Janis: I already said I'd do this shit alone and no 🎲 Jimmy: don't sound like him that Jimmy: go on, rich girl, love to witness another failed flex Janis: You reckon we'd get extra points for fluffing our business expenses like your dad or what? Janis: I'll go along with it if we can convincingly hide our fake funds in a tax haven and make ourselves look LEGIT 👌 Jimmy: Me an' all Mia: You know as little about my dad as you do about your own, Janis Mia: you wish he was as crooked too but he's on the right side of the law so Janis: above the law Janis: can't do no wrong in your eyes, so I've heard Janis: but doubt new boy finds your family drama any more interesting than I do Janis: be a fucking law firm if you like, let's just split the jobs up equally and we don't have to talk until it's time to piece it all together Jimmy: I'll have the ad and the logo, tah very much Janis: you mean the fun bits Jimmy: I mean the 🎨 bits Jimmy: rich girl wants her A Janis: obliging Janis: I'll make the website and business cards, I've done it before Janis: Mia, do the data input, yeah Janis: star in Tarantino's ad, you'll love that Mia: No, no Mia: I don't feel comfortable leaving you completely to your own devices Mia: that's not a totally terrible split of the workload but I intend to oversee every step of the process Mia: we have to do a writeup at the end, you know Jimmy: it's almost like the other lass ain't as thick as you'd feel comfortable her being, funny that Mia: I literally want to do well and as far as I know, I'm the only one here who consistently gets good grades Mia: so hostile Mia: I agree that's how we should split the work but I'm not going to just assume you'll both do it well, we can all have input in every part Jimmy: could LITERALLY fill a book the size of sir's big head with all the shit you don't know about what I do well Jimmy: but alright Jimmy: watch me, if you don't get enough of it already, better uniform at work though, don't you reckon? Mia: Oh my God, brag much? Mia: hit the nail on the head with big head 🙄 Jimmy: stalk much? 🙄 Jimmy: least your dad could take my case Mia: It's HER sister that likes you, not ME Mia: get a grip and take it up with her if you're not feeling it Jimmy: I'll still give your dad a bell, chuck him that 🦴 as he's struggling Mia: As I said, he doesn't DO no win no fee, so you couldn't afford him Jimmy: 💔🎻 Janis: Now we've established it's justice only for those that can afford it Janis: and rich girls can do whatever they want Janis: what are we doing first, oh mighty project manager Jimmy: I'll do the logo in blue, sounds about right, that Janis: #bluelivesmatter is already taken for a tagline but I'll get to thinking Jimmy: 👍 Jimmy: I'll have a think if I wanna use gold for her 👑 or silver for the 🥄 Janis: 🥄 might imply a problem with amphetamines and obviously, you want everyone to know you WORKED for that 💀🦴 all by yourself, you know Mia: You'd know all about that, wouldn't you Mia: taking over the family business, yeah? Jimmy: Oi, it ain't that grim up north Mia: Grim is right Jimmy: Gutted Rosso didn't make you feel like the WAG you deserve on your last visit babes 🤞 next time you'll spot them celebs Jimmy: or you'll keep to Bijou, that glam dress code would never do you dirty Jimmy: 💕 Janis: I get it Janis: you want me to make sure you're infertile Janis: all those cheat days and binges got you feeling unsure, no problem, just ask Jimmy: lend her the 🥄 Mia: You are both SUCH freaks Mia: what does any of that even mean Jimmy: bit rude Jimmy: only a freak on the weekend, me Mia: NOT interested, new boy Mia: I HAVE a boyfriend who's a lot hotter than you, right Janis? Jimmy: makes two of us, rich girl Janis: For someone who thinks my bloodline is filth, you LOVE being surrounded by 'em, yeah Janis: bit weird but everyone likes their bit of rough Janis: how disadvantaged is your dad's newest mistress, I mean secretary? Janis: SO charitable 💙 Jimmy: might be northern, sounds like they've been there loads Mia: Are you gay, new boy? Mia: I'll have to let down Gracie for you Jimmy: only for sir Jimmy: he's well fit Jimmy: crack on with letting your bestie down though and if my mum's the one with your dad, tell her she left the oven on but I sorted it Mia: ??? Mia: What EVEN Mia: you're cracked Jimmy: brb gotta go dry my eyes Jimmy: 🐣💕 Jimmy: I do feel #seen tah for that, hun Mia: I can't even Mia: fine, you two come up with our company branding Mia: I'm going to write out all the info to put on our website when it's done Jimmy: Oi, bad blood, you wanna be the star of my ad or what? Janis: no Jimmy: alright, I'll ask sir Janis: good taste Janis: rinse her dad in a fight Jimmy: tah for the meet cute opportunity Jimmy: when he's her dad's new mr I wanna 🎥📸 the wedding Janis: awh, full ⚪ Janis: she'll look adorable in her flower girl dress Jimmy: 🤞 Gracie catches the 💐 Jimmy: she is on a lad hunt Janis: 🤞 Mia's da has a brother Mia don't also want to fuck Jimmy: don't leave us in suspense 👑 does he or what? Mia: Shut the fuck up or I'll show all this to Sir Jimmy: Go on Jimmy: he'll think I'm 😎 and I'll be well in Janis: Do it, little miss perfect Janis: the part where you shit on my dead dad's grave will be well more shocking when I open the floodgates 😭 Jimmy: ⏲ Janis: ... Jimmy: ........ Janis: guess Sir won't wanna pet you no more when he finds out a. you're a cunt b. new boy is interested in your position Jimmy: he'll do til I can get Mr Lucas Jimmy: you can have him back then Janis: LOVE a happy ending Jimmy: I'll look top in my 👰 Janis: gutted about the lack of uniform though, yeah Mia? Jimmy: What do you make your boyfriend wear? 🦺? Mia: New boy, don't even go there 'cos he could beat you down so easy if I asked him to Janis: that means she pisses on him so they know he's hers Jimmy: makes sense that'd be your kink Janis: dog eat dog world, right babes Janis: stories you was raised on come straight out of your dad's man's man motivational speaker bullshit Jimmy: Oh shit, are you my half sister, rich girl? Jimmy: brb gotta pack my shit so I'm ready to move in Janis: get a princess dress to go with that 👰 Jimmy: order my 👑 in XXL tah Janis: can share with your sister Janis: big happy family vibes xoxo Jimmy: 🤗 Janis: get in here sis Janis: finally not a lonely child Mia: Yeah, I SO want 1000s of siblings like you Jimmy: You're alright, I've only got the one brother and the one sister Jimmy: be piss easy to fit us in your palace Mia: You AREN'T invited Mia: might steal the silverware 🥄🍴 Jimmy: I'll leave you a 🥄 to stick down your throat after dinner Jimmy: got some manners, me Mia: That's lovely, isn't it Mia: eating disorders are really serious, you shouldn't make some jokes Janis: respect the 🎨 Jimmy: cleaning the 🚽 after you lot is an' all Jimmy: part of the job description btw, I get that you'd have to have one to know what that means but Janis: 😏 Janis: staff know all your dirty little secrets, babes Janis: better than a tip, like Jimmy: be 👻⚰💀 before I get a tip off her Janis: if we were all walking 'round looking as SICK as her, what would be the point of corroding away her esophagus and not-so pearly whites? Janis: gotta find your own tricks, boy Jimmy: I'll put a ❄️ in the logo for you, babes Janis: cannot escape those coke vibes omg Janis: you're a PR nightmare Jimmy: 😱😱😱 Jimmy: #whitelivesandwhitelines Janis: GREAT slogan Janis: basically done over here and you're just texting 💀💩 Janis: tsk tsk, Mimi Jimmy: tick tock or tik tok if you'd rather Jimmy: 😘 Janis: 😂 Janis: make us a law tiktok, hun Jimmy: starring your dad, OBVS Janis: share that 🤤🤤🤤 with the world, not just the local 18-35s Jimmy: 💰 on him being a 🔥🔥🔥 dancer Janis: all middle-aged white men are Jimmy: DUH Janis: POV- you're my client, I'm overcharging you Jimmy: 🤤🤤🤤😍😍😍 Mia: You're obsessed with me, I get it 🙄 Jimmy: busted Janis: If that's a crime Janis: get to spend more time with your dad than you do Janis: 💘 Jimmy: SO romantic Jimmy: 👨💕 Janis: can't wait 'til he wants a couple grams Jimmy: refill the silver 🧂 Janis: you know it Janis: sugarbowl never tasted so sweet Jimmy: 😋 Janis: careful Janis: her boyfriend WILL fuck you up Jimmy: I get it, he's obsessed with me Janis: can't blame him Mia: OMG Mia: that is soooo fucked Mia: know your family doesn't see blood relation as an issue but he'll 🤢 when I show him this Jimmy: if he's that bothered, he can come find me Jimmy: you've had my shifts memorised since I started Mia: You wish Jimmy: to give him a smack, yeah Jimmy: why not? Jimmy: sounds like a right knobhead Mia: [sends a picture of Pablo like he's a prize bull or some shit gross Mia] Mia: you reckon, do you? 😂 Jimmy: I reckon he looks like a right knobhead an' all now, since you asked Mia: You've got a deathwish like Mia: wow Janis: kindred spirits Jimmy: 'cause you reckon he looks like a knobhead an' all? that's just sense Janis: was talking about her eating disorder which is VERY serious and we MUST NOT joke about Janis: but yeah, the fuckboy radiating from that selfie must be the appeal Jimmy: Soz mate Mia: She doesn't DO boys, I'd save your breath Jimmy: weren't breathing down her neck, that's you Jimmy: I get why now though, it's a blatant crush Janis: Stalking's your kink, right babes? Janis: Or am I just that special Jimmy: [draws these gals as snowflakes holding hands but Mia is melting] Janis: That's good Janis: but horrific Jimmy: #allherkinks Jimmy: [doodles on the picture of Pablo that she sent in hilarious ways] Janis: 😂😂 Janis: Send him that, whilst you're at it, Mimi Janis: really get him 'roiding out Mia: 🖕🖕🖕 Mia: you're both jealous, both for weird freaky reasons Jimmy: Of what? Go on Mia: You're jealous because you think every girl here wants to ride you and I DON'T Mia: because my boyfriend is better looking and fitter than you 💁 Mia: and she's jealous either because she wants me or she wants her own brother Mia: either way 😷😷😷😷 Jimmy: if every girl round here wanted to crack onto me why would I give a shit if you do or don't? Jimmy: all your mates are fitter than you and they ain't close to this paddy school's top tier Jimmy: and you just said she don't do lads so why would she wanna have a go on her brother unless the steroids have fucked him up harder than advertised Mia: yeah 👌 narcissist Mia: neg me, that'll totally make me interested Jimmy: 🤞 it'll keep you well clear Jimmy: that'll do Mia: I want to be working with you as much as you do me, I've said Mia: leave me alone and this can be as painless as possible Jimmy: I get that you're fuming your boyfriend is growing bigger tits than you but that ain't my problem, my dear Mia: So immature Jimmy: still got a deeper voice than him Janis: imagine defending your man this hard when he fully cheats on you Janis: 💔 Janis: daddy all over again, am I right? Jimmy: 🎻😭🎻 Jimmy: Dunno what I'm more flattered by, that you reckon I'm gay after seeing the state of all the straight lads round here or not wanting to ride me 'cause I ain't a cheating dickhead with massive tits or in your dad's case a hair transplant Jimmy: either way, tah Janis: could donate some to the cause, new boy Janis: hair, not tits Jimmy: you could an' all Jimmy: cause a scandal Janis: #cancelling bitches is a solid hobby Jimmy: there you go Janis: can't lose my only beauty though Janis: 🎻🎻 Janis: have to keep being #problematic yourself babes, so soz Jimmy: 👍 Mia: Stop nerd flirting Mia: send me what work you've done today Jimmy: Hang on, I'll 😎🚬 Jimmy: 💕 Mia: Gross Jimmy: What, I'm only fit and mysterious if I starve myself to 💀💀💀? Alright Jimmy: [sends her the work like oh I must be a nerd then] Mia: Thank you Mia: I'll go over this and give feedback later Jimmy: Gross Mia: 🙄 Mia: I've got to do a speech in Politics and Society after this, so I need to prepare Jimmy: 🙄 Janis: 👋 Janis: pleasure as always Jimmy: bit rude if you two get to nerd flirt Janis: what's 'fuck off' in Arabic? Jimmy: تخلص من Jimmy: probably means ILY or some bollocks 'cause I google translated it Janis: beautiful Janis: love double-meaning Janis: Qué te folle un pez espada, new boy Jimmy: ? Janis: I hope you get fucked by a swordfish 💘 Jimmy: [draws their teacher, Mr Lucas, Pablo and Mia's dad all as swordfish so she can vote for who she ships him with] Jimmy: ✔ or ❌ Janis: [❌ out Pablo's eyes and Mr Lucas' junk like no] Jimmy: [IRL 😏] Janis: [does very unflattering drawing of Mia all up on her father] Jimmy: 🥇 Janis: not an A though, is it Jimmy: [makes it even more unflattering somehow like now it is and now it's also teamwork so even better] Janis: 😏 Jimmy: LOVE a #collab Janis: been waiting for a group project to come along Jimmy: rigged it to work with 👑💀 obvs Janis: duh Jimmy: SO obsessed, her dad will get me off though, he can TOTALLY relate Janis: should but it in our ad Jimmy: 🔪🔪🔪🚿 Janis: 😱😱😱 Jimmy: 💘 Janis: Sir will kill that role Jimmy: Literally Janis: ha ha 🙄 Jimmy: Chuckles is right 🤡 Janis: keep 'em coming Janis: 👑💀 might have an aneurism Jimmy: 🤞 might get an A if she dies Janis: it's what she would've wanted Jimmy: you do love a happy ending Janis: who don't Janis: be my tragic family's fault, no doubt Jimmy: so I've heard Janis: not gonna apologize, new boy Jimmy: weren't waiting for one Janis: 👍 Jimmy: 👌 Janis: please stop nerd flirting with me Jimmy: you started it Jimmy: calm YOURSELF down, mate Janis: did I fuck Jimmy: neg me, that'll totally make me interested Janis: [IRL 😏] Jimmy: [sends her a pisstake version of the logo to fully drag Mia] Janis: is it RGB #374E88 though Jimmy: what? Janis: it's called tory blue Jimmy: is it? Jimmy: [does a colour corrected version immediately] Janis: Better Janis: solid 🥇 Jimmy: Tah Janis: [the pisstake business card with the logo for her dad] Janis: we've absolutely SMASHED it Jimmy: I reckon we can go Jimmy: 😎🚬 Janis: alright Jimmy: [IRL 😘 to sir] Janis: [we're loving this so hard but gotta hide it] Jimmy: [strutting out cos bad bitch global] Janis: [when you wanna go for all the reasons but also the rumour mill would go off immediately so you're like hmm] Janis: [fuck your life amirite babe] Jimmy: [gutted we ever have to end this convo so same]

[wintersxsoul]

Fire Meets Gasoline (6)

Summary: You leave your city to start over in your best friend’s town, oblivious to the fact that you have an unexpected roommate. What will happen when fire meets gasoline?

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k-ish?

Warnings: I don’t really know, none I guess,

A/N: PLEASE SEND ME ASKS TO BE TAGGED, I AM A MESS AND I REALLY DON’T READ ALL THE COMMENTS CAUSE I DON’T HAVE TIME SKSKKS.

“I loved it! But I only have one question. They couldn’t find rats so they used armadillos?” Loki asked confused. Of course you knew the answer, when you first watched the movie and saw the armadillos, you did your research.

“Well, apparently in the 20s and 30s, armadillos weren’t very common, so moviemakers would use them as a creepy, “demonic” animal.” He stared at you with a weird expression, and you started to panic, thinking that maybe you were being too much.

“I’m sorry, I just...I don’t know.” Loki saw the shift in your expression and the excitement glint in your eyes disappear. He couldn’t understand why you were apologizing but as soon as he studied in detail your body language, it clicked.

“How can you know that?” He wanted you to regain the enthusiasm you had while watching the movie and explaining to him the facts you knew. He looked at you, expectant, waiting for an answer.

“I was as shocked as you when I first saw it, so I did some digging.” You shrugged and remembered another fact. “Dracula also has a Jerusalem cricket as a pet, with its tiny little coffin and all.” You said in a laugh. You really loved knowing small facts about so many movies.

Loki’s phone buzzed on the small table in front of you. He stared at you a little longer, even though you weren’t speaking, and grabbed his phone.

“Hello?” He answered frowning but as soon as the other person spoke, his face lit up. You moved to stand up but he grabbed your wrist and stopped you. You looked at him confused.

“Yes, I know...Yes, she’s here...Right now?” Loki nodded and pressed the FaceTime button, showing Thor and Jane on the screen. You moved closer to Loki when he made a small movement with his head for you to get in the call.

“Hello Y/n!!” Both Jane and Thor said, waving at you enthusiastically. You smiled at them widely.

“Hello guys! How is everything going?” You asked, excited to finally being able to see your best friend after such a long time. Jane was talking about a project she was working on for NASA and Thor was just standing next to her, looking at her like she held the whole universe in her eyes. You felt your heart swell in your chest, happy tears for your friends threatening to fall.

“Enough of us. How are you two?” You shared a look with Loki, neither of you knowing what you could answer. After the conversation you had today, you knew things were going to be different, but you weren’t friends yet so you both just shrugged in order to answer.

“We are okay I guess? We haven’t killed each other, which is a great improvement, seeing how everything started.” You looked at Loki for his approval and you found him already looking at you, smiling in a friendly way.

“Well, isn't that oportune, babe?” Thor winked at Jane, both of them smiling widely. You looked at Loki to see his expression, but he was as clueless as you. If “????” could be spoken, Loki and you would probably be shouting it.

​”Guys, what the fuck is going on?” Loki finally asked, since Thor and Jane were just giggling, not able to speak.

“We are getting married!” Thor said as Jane raised her left hand to show her engagement ring. You stared at the screen in awe, tears rolling through your cheeks.

Loki was looking at you, knowing he was out of sight of Thor and Jane, spilling happy tears for his brother.

“And we want you to be the groomsman and the bridesmaid.” You spoke on the phone with them a little longer until they had to hang up.

You couldn’t believe you had to go to Norway with Loki. The wedding was 1 year away but knowing how you two were around each other, could you actually trust nothing bad was going to happen?

A couple of days after Thor’s call, you were laying in your bed half asleep, when your alarm went off. Your vacations were over and you had to go back to your insane routine. You dragged your feet to the kitchen to brew some coffee and as you waited for it to be ready, a message popped in.

Unknown number: Hello Y/n, it’s me, Eric. I don’t know what happened to you, but I tried to call you and I even went to your house, but your parents told me you left and changed your phone number.

I really miss you and all the things we used to do together. I miss my friend. Do you remember when we used to fuck all day long? I really do.

I just wanted to remind you that whenever you want to come back or just have sex, I’ll be here.

A sob escaped your lips, breaking the silence of the room. You couldn’t believe what  your eyes just read. After he used you, played with your feelings and made you fall in love with him through manipulation, put all your group of friends against you by lying, he had the fucking audacity to talk to you and ask you to basically have sex again with him. He told all your friends you were talking shit behind their backs, when in reality, it was him who did that. You explained yourself but they all rejected you, so you left, with a broken heart. You lost a fake love you thought it was real and friendships that you thought they were going to last forever. Eric was still oblivious to all the pain he’d caused and you were just a coward who couldn’t confront the truth, which was that he never cared for you, not in the slightest, he just cared about him and his dick.

You decided not to answer and block the number, so he couldn’t text you or call you again. You got dressed, wearing a cute floral shirt and high waisted black jeans, your hair up in a messy bun and a dark red lipstick. You were ready to face the night with a newfound strength.

The Blood Moon was full, the usual customers already drunk as fuck, half asleep on the overused leather barstools. Loki was around the bar as well, flirting with a redhead. You shook your head, smiling at the sight of your friend being a total flirt. You were so happy you fixed things with him a couple of weeks ago and now got to call him friend, happy to finally have someone to talk at night about everything and watching your favorite movies together. The last movie you had seen together was one of your absolute favorite ones, called Only Lovers Left Alive, and he loved it so much he even suggested to watch it once a month. After all your failed friendships, you believed you finally had a second chance with Val, Thor and Loki.

“What is a girl like you, doing in a place like this?” You turned around rolling your eyes at the comment but letting out a chuckle.

“Waiting for someone like you, of course.” You winked at Loki while you poured his favorite mix in a tall glass and handing him a free shot.

“Are you coming home tonight?” He asked, probably trying to avoid having sex with someone while you were there with someone else as well. You shrugged and answered.

“Haven’t found my prey yet. I’ll text you to let you know, okay?” He nodded and smiled at you, pointing with his head at the redhead and moving through the sea of people to reach her.

A couple hours later, a few shots and a new arm to cling to, you texted Loki to let him know you were headed home and be there in 20 minutes.

Loki: Cool, she’s already asleep so no prob. I will use my noise cancelling headphones. Have a good night.

-

“Hey...hey?” You shook Tyler’s arm, trying to wake him up so he could leave.

“Tyler?” You tried again and again, but nothing woke him. You sighed and left your room, wrapped in a blanket with your cozy socks, ready to sleep on the couch.

You entered the living room silently, trying not to wake up everyone else.

“Hello?” you asked, as you heard someone in the room.

“Hey, it’s just me.” Loki said as he sat down on the couch with a book on his hands. You plopped down next to him and wrapped the blanket closer to your body.

“Can’t sleep?” You kind of whispered him. He nodded and opened the book. He was reading... Shakespeare??!!

“What about you?” He asked, not even looking up from his book. He was wearing glasses, a black shirt and grey sweats, his hair in a very messy braid.

“The jerk fell asleep and I can’t wake him up, so I was planning on sleeping on the couch.” You shrugged, trying to play the matter down, but it didn’t work.

“And you can’t sleep there?” You shook your head and began explaining him why.

“That’s why you panicked when we slept together?” You nodded, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry I was such an ass, I didn’t know it held so much meaning to you.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t know it and it was unintentional.” You told him, really meaning it.  

[ilovemesomekillianjones]

All Aboard - Part 2/3

Hey guys!! The first part of this story was written for the CS Cocktober event, but I couldn’t resist! I wanted to write more for this story anyway, and with a few requests to do so, I decided to do it. So, here are the next two days which Emma referenced at the end of part one.  Smut and fluff. Additional tags: mention of minor character death, light angst. Thanks @hookedonapirate for beta reading!!

                    ao3     ffnet     rated E     10K+ words     

Seriously, here’s my cut line... 

Emma hummed quietly to herself in the shower as she washed away the smokey smell of the casino she and Killian had visited while stopped in Winnemucca, Nevada. The train had been slightly delayed due to a sand storm that was brewing over the northeastern region of Nevada.

They’d thought about just staying in their room during the 8 PM stop, but when the delay had been announced, Killian had suggested an outing. As such she and her travel companion had decided to hit the town since they now had almost six hours instead of just under two before they departed. Dressing for the evening, they’d headed out to see what the tiny town of Winnemucca had to offer. It turned out there wasn’t much, so they’d decided on a casino where they could eat, drink, and play games.

Emma had never been a winner before, but it seemed no matter where she put her money down, she’d been a winner tonight. She’d won at blackjack, roulette, and hit a mini jackpot.

“I must be your lucky charm,” he’d purred into her ear when she hit a $775 dollar jackpot on the Dangerous Beauty slot machine he’d suggested was named after her.

“Oh, you’ll definitely be lucky tonight.” Emma had turned in his arms as the siren atop the machine blared loudly. Wrapping her arms around his neck and carding her fingers through his hair she’d latched onto his lips and rubbed her body against his.

“Does winning turn you on?”

“You turn me on, let’s go back to the train.”

“Soon, lass. Let’s eat, maybe you’ll make those divine noises for me again.”     

“Fine,” Emma conceded as her stomach growled at the mention of food.

Killian had led her through the casino with a hand on the small of her back while they’d looked for a place to eat that was open in the middle of the night. They’d found a small diner and the hostess led them to a booth where Emma scooted into the first bench seat. Instead of sitting across from her, Killian scooted in next to her.

“Oh, how sweet. Are y’all newly weds?”

They’d both shaken their heads emphatically while answering in the negative.

“Celebratin’ an anniversary?”

“No, again,” Emma smiled fakely, growing more uncomfortable by the moment.

“Well you certainly do make a cute couple, whatever y’all got going on.”  

“Thanks, lass, do you mind if we look over the menus before we order?” Killian asked, attempting to get rid of the overfriendly wait staff. He’d sensed Emma’s discomfort even as the woman left their table side, and in order to distract her, he’d leaned over and planted wet, hot kisses to her neck and ear. “Here to Chicago,” Killian whispered before biting down on her ear lobe. He chuckled darkly at the shiver that seized Emma’s whole body.  

She’d turned and met his lips, immediately plundering his mouth to show him just what she had on her mind. “I want you, Killian.”

“And I you, Emma.” His hand slid between her thighs and massaged gently as he’d worked his way further to her center.

She was hungry for Killian again as her hands slipped over her body while she washed. Her mind wandered back to this morning and what she now referred to as sucking cock outside of Sacramento. Emma decidedly loved sucking Killian Jones off; he had a perfect cock, a long, thick, firm shaft and a velvety tip with a slit that had shot hard down her throat. She shivered despite the scalding water cascading down her heaving chest.      

Finishing her shower as quickly as she could, Emma hopped out of the tiny stall, dried off, threw on her clothes and practically ran back to their room. She breathlessly opened the door and slammed it closed.

“Someone chasing you, love?” Killian questioned as he looked up over the papers he was pouring over.

Emma couldn’t remember when she’d stopped minding that he called her love; the endearment had kind of grown on her. She smiled lasciviously when he looked over the frames that rested low on the bridge of his nose to peer at her hungrily. He looked amazing sitting in the corner reclining chair wearing nothing but a pair of unbuttoned, well worn jeans, no shirt, and wet hair.    

“So you have glasses too?”

“Aye, mostly for reading the fine print in these blasted contracts.” He tossed them to the side where they landed on top of his briefcase. Killian licked his lips as he looked Emma up and down. She had on a skin tight tank top and her hardened nipples poked at the fabric that was wet from her tousled hair, her shorts were just the right side of inappropriate putting her lean thighs on display. His cock twitched as he imagined just how those thighs would feel wrapped around his head.  

“Why are you reading contracts in the middle of the night when there are much more enjoyable activities to be had?”

Standing from the lounge chair in the corner he took several paces toward her and pulled her into his arms. “I’ve been waiting, you were in the shower for a long time. Were you being naughty?”

“Mmmm, I wanted to be,” she admitted, “but then I decided I’d rather have the real thing.” She palmed his erection through the soft denim, then started to unzip him.

Killian’s hand was quick to cease her movement. “Not a chance,” he growled. “You will be first tonight, Swan.” He pushed her toward the bed while staring into her eyes like a hungry wolf about to devour its prey.

Emma’s whole body prickled with anticipation as she looked back at him, refusing to blink or break first. His next question shocked her a bit though, and she faltered, blinking her eyes and frowning.

“Top or bottom?”

“What, no foreplay tonight?”

Killian laughed a deep mirthful thing. “Top or bottom bunk, you concupiscent little minx.”

Emma joined him in laughter, partly at herself, and partly at his choice of words.  “Who the fuck says concupiscent?”

“Those of us who don’t like the word horny use the word concupiscent.” He purposefully popped the t and rolled his hips into hers. “Now, top? Or bottom?”

“We already christened the bottom, I guess we could try and fuck on every surface we’ve been provided.”

“Stellar plan, Swan, now get these sweet cheeks up there.” Killian brought both his hands down firmly on her behind then squeezed.

She obeyed immediately, climbing the small ladder well to the top bunk. She paused when she heard him growl.  

Killian watched as she climbed, her arse looked positively edible. He palmed himself as he watched her go, grunting at the contact. She had him more worked up than he could ever remember being over any woman. When she stopped to look down at him, he couldn’t resist. He stepped up to the first rung and slipped a hand into the leg of her shorts. Sliding them up over her cheek, he bit down on her pert flesh. His cocked jumped at her moans as he soothed the bite with his tongue and lips. “Gods, you have a delectable arse.”

Emma giggled at the way his accent got super heavy when he talked dirty. It was so hot, she couldn’t remember ever being this turned on and looked after by any man before Killian.  Climbing into the bunk on her hands and knees she made sure to shake her ass in his face.

“Such a tease.”

“It’s not a tease if I let you have it.”

Killian inhaled so hard at the thought of her tight ass around his cock, that he choked.

“You okay there,” Emma laughed. She watched as he descended the ladder and reached for a bottle of water.  She took that moment to get ready, maybe steal his breath away again.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he muttered as he caught his breath. He took a few more swigs of water before stripping off his jeans, and climbing back up to join her. The sight that greeted him was stunning. She was stripped bare, legs bent at the knee, feet spread wide and planted firmly against the mattress. One hand kneaded a breast and the other played languidly at her folds.

“It’s like you’re trying to kill me!” he gasped as he caught sight of her. Spread for him, her hand playing, first and third fingers spreading her folds while her middle finger stroked her clit. He wasn’t sure how he was going to manage this, the bed wasn’t long enough for them both to lay out, but he needed to taste her. “Scoot down, love.” Once she was close enough, he grabbed her wrist and brought her fingers to his mouth. He sucked each finger clean, then wrapped his arms under her thighs and pulled her glistening folds to his waiting mouth.

Emma’s hips bucked wildly as his tongue flicked feather light touches against her clit. It wasn’t enough and she struggled against the strong grasp he had around her thighs as he held her down to tease her. She whined needily as he continued to barely ghost his tongue over her most sensitive spot. “Killian, please.”

“You started without me, love. Very naughty.” He spread her thighs wider when he felt her try to squeeze them for some semblance of pleasure.

Emma carded a hand into his hair then yanked his head up so she could look into his eyes.  “I am going to finish without you too if you don’t fu-”

Her words were replaced with a moan as he gave her the full pleasure of his tongue. He licked long flat strokes through her folds, tasting every drop that trickled down her drenched core. “I love the way you taste, Emma,” he murmured into her clit before sucking it into his mouth.

Emma’s grip in his hair tightened mercilessly as he held the perfect amount of suction over her clit so he could stroke it with his tongue at the same time. “So... good… oh…” She couldn’t formulate complete sentences as she watched him eat her out. Killian was watching her intently through darkened eyes, and it revved her up as they maintained eye contact through one of the most intimate experiences of her life.

“Touch your breasts, love.” Killian grinned against her folds when she mercifully released his hair to comply immediately. He stood on the stairs to the bunk, cock in agony as he couldn’t even seek friction against the bed, legs shaking as he worked to set Emma ablaze. He released one of her thighs so he could finger her pussy. Keeping his mouth focused on her clit, Killian plunged two fingers into her wetness, groaning as he anticipated shoving his cock in her.        

Emma kneaded her breasts, pinching her nipples as he’d bid her to do. The second he released her thigh it wrenched closed, rubbing against the side of his head before extending fully over his shoulder and flexing down to her toes as she bordered the edge of bliss. When his fingers entered her suddenly, her breath caught, and her fingers clamped down around her breasts, grasping tightly as she crumbled under his exertions.

“Delicious,” he praised as he licked away every trace of her orgasm. Climbing the rest of the way into the bed he squeezed between Emma and the wall. One arm behind his head, and one thrown over his face, he was the picture of comfort.

“I don’t want the outside,” she complained. “It’s cold.”

“You’ll want to be exactly where you are for the way I’m going to fuck you.”

Emma arched an eyebrow and propped herself up on her elbow to face him. She traced a nail down the center of his chest, following the natural contours of his hair all the way down to where it gathered into a singular path toward his glorious cock. “And just how are you going to fuck me?”

“Give me a minute, love, I’ve lost a bit of feeling in me legs and toes from standing on that damned ladder.” He peeked out from under his arm and offered her a glistening smile, “Worth it.”

Emma glowed under the compliment and leaned down to kiss him. His beard was still a bit damp from her arousal, but she didn’t care, it was kinda hot tasting herself on him, she’d never done that before. Licking along his lips and into his mouth she was rewarded with a growl from Killian as he rolled to face her and pinned her to the mattress kissing her roughly.

They made out, kissing and caressing, alternating between moments of rough and feral need and tenderness. Killian’s hands were all over, he traced patterns along her sides, fondled her breasts, massaged the muscles of her back, and squeezed her perfect ass. Emma was more singularly focused, she jerked him off with one hand while her other hand cupped a muscular butt cheek. She delighted in the way the muscles of his ass and hip slid under her palm as he shallowly thrust into her warm hand. The pace they set was enough to drive him mad with want, but not over the edge.       

“Turn over,” he grunted.

“You want me on my hands and knees?” she purred.

“Eventually yes, but we don’t have enough room up here for that.” He reached his hand straight up, touching the ceiling, and it was true, he’d never be able to fuck her doggy-style up here unless he wanted to be bent at the knee and at the torso.

“Turn over so you’re facing away from me.” Once she’d turned over he told her to put one arm under the pillow they were going to share, and lay her head down. “Reach under the mattress with your other hand.”

As she felt around Emma was surprised to find a foil package. “Well, you’re just a regular boy scout, prepared for every eventuality.” She handed the condom to him over her shoulder, where he was propped up on his elbow. He was silent for a moment as he ripped the package open with his teeth and then rolled the rubber sheath over his length.

“I think you’ll find there is nothing boyish about me.” Killian sealed his lips to her neck, sucking hard, then thrust his hips upward, sinking into her slippery depths.

A high pitched exhale left Emma’s mouth when he thrust into her suddenly. “Oh, you feel so good like this.”

“Just good?” Killian grabbed her thigh and put it up over his so she was spread a little more. Placing his free hand over her stomach he held her close, almost possessively, as he slid in and out of her at a lazy pace.

“You do not need your ego stroked.”

“It’s not my ego being stroked right now,” he rasped into her ear. “You feel like heaven wrapped around me. Your cunt is so warm, so wet, and swollen perfectly to take all of me, Swan.”

Emma whimpered as he muttered his filth in her ear. His hand tightened around her as he picked up his pace. She reached her arm around his back to hold onto something as he pistoned into her. There was the flex of his hips again, and it made her hotter feeling his body working to bring her pleasure. She understood now why he’d put her on the outside, he’d be fucking her into the wall right now if they were reversed.  

Killian was getting close, the way she writhed and arched her back in his hold meant she was getting close too. He felt her hand cover his and slide it down her belly, and he knew what she wanted. He placed his palm against her mound and rubbed circles to her clit with his thick fingers. He pounded into her harder, “I’m so close, Emma. Come with me?”

When he wasn’t talking, his mouth was pressing kisses and bites along her neck and ear.  

Emma couldn’t find her words and instead nodded her head vigorously. She needed to come again, the pressure was building and she felt as if she might burst.

“Now, love. Come all over my cock,” he commanded and then bit down on her ear.

A shiver broke across her skin when he bit and suckled her ear, but the final piece had been when he demanded that she come all over his cock. “Killian,” she moaned as he slammed home a final time.

Killian stilled his hips as he came at his deepest point inside her, letting her spasming walls choke and caress his cock through his orgasm. He leaned his head into her neck, panting for air. He wasn’t out of shape by any means, but she brought out an animalistic need in him that had him pushing the envelope of rigor. “You are fucking brilliant, lass.”

How did he do that, she wondered. From filth to praise in the blink of an eye. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“I think you can do better than that,” he prodded, tickling her side.

“Hey,” she yelped. “No tickling!”

“Says who?” Killian squeezed her side again, eliciting the most captivating giggles he’d ever heard.

“Okay, okay! You were exemplary, fucking amazeballs, you have a distinguished supercock amongst mere mortals.”  

It was Killian’s turn to laugh, and it was a deep, belly laugh. “Amazeballs? I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.”

“Oh, and you have been told that you have a supercock amongst mere mortals,” she deadpanned.

“At least twice,” he bantered back without missing a beat. “Let me get cleaned up before we have a mess to deal with.”

Emma moved a bit, letting him slip from her and then sat up. She climbed down the ladder first, and Killian followed behind. “Hold on, I brought something for you.” Emma dug in the pile of things she’d dropped after her shower. She found a washcloth she’d gotten wet and brought back for exactly this reason and handed it over to Killian. “It’s a little cold now, but it’s better than tissues that will make your cock look like it was tarred and feathered.”

“Well, now who’s the prepared boy scout?”

“Oh, I know there is nothing boyish about any of this.” Emma gestured to her whole body cockily before grabbing the second washcloth to clean herself.

It was almost four in the morning when they finally climbed into the lower bunk, both exhausted by the long day and night, it was nearing dawn and all either wanted to do was get some sleep.

“Good night, love.” Killian placed a kiss to her temple, wrapping her up in his arms.

“Night,” she murmured after pecking his lips. Good night kisses and snuggles? She didn’t even recognize this Emma Swan. She was too tired to freak out over the domesticity that was going on right now, and more than that, she kind of like it.

Despite waking up several times, Emma had never slept so soundly as she did over the next eight hours. Each time she woke she was still securely snuggled in the arms that held more comfort and joy than she’d ever known. And each time that thought crossed her sleepy mind, she pushed it away in favor of just being. Everything about this experience was new to her, and she found that she wanted to enjoy every moment. The steady rhythm of the train and the happiness in her heart lulled her back to sleep each time.       

Killian could have woken much sooner, but each time he realized that this enigmatic woman was still comfortably wrapped up in his embrace he decided to stay put. Emma had sailed unexpectedly into his life, and he could not be more enthralled by her than he currently felt. He wanted to know more, he wanted to know everything about her.

The moment they realized the other was awake, they were back on each other, their need to take, and be taken, insatiable. It started off slow and sweet, as they kissed and touched their way back into full wakefulness.   

~♥~

Emma stretched her body, enjoying the sated feeling that inundated her entire being. Looking at her phone, she realized why she was so hungry. They’d slept away half the day and had now spent the remainder partaking in some rather rigorous activities. Emma had even let him have that which she’d promised, she was no tease, though she was more than a little sore.

A smile commanded her face as she pulled on her panties and bra. She chuckled under her breath remembering the way he’d choked last night when she’d suggested it. Then there was the gobsmacked expression on his face when she’d actually offered her ass to him this afternoon as she looked over her shoulder, telling him, all aboard.

Killian watched her from the comfort of their still warm bed. A beatific smile encompassed her face and she was glowing. He hoped he was the cause of this change.

“Get dressed, I’ll take you to dinner. My treat since I won big last night.”

“Wherever shall we go?”

“Hmmmm.” Emma tapped her chin as though she were deep in thought. “I know! Let’s go to the dining cart.”

They both chuckled at their own silliness while getting dressed.

“After you, darling,” Killian said as he held the door to the hall open.

“You just want to look at my ass while we walk.”

“Aye, so?”

“What if I wanted to look at your ass?”

“Well then,” Killian said as he took her hand in his and pulled her behind him to walk to dinner, “look your fill, Swan.”     

Emma chuckled at the way he sashayed his hips, even going so far as to put a hand on his hip and throw her a coy smile over his shoulders.  

They sat down at a small two top in the dining cart and perused the menu quietly. Each had a little more on their mind than just the food choices, but neither knew how to break the ice. Killian wanted to know more about this enigmatic woman. Where was she going, why was she running, did she feel any of the connection he felt to her, outside of the obvious sexual chemistry? Would they really never see each other again after Chicago?

Emma found herself enjoying Killian’s company more by the minute. She’d never met another soul who she’d hit it off with quite like this, and she didn’t just mean sexually. Of course she would chalk up their quick rapport to the fact that there was no end game to worry about, just a final destination where they’d go their separate ways.

“Let’s play a game,” Killian suggested once they’d made their orders.

Emma saw the spark in Killian’s eyes as he asked the question, like he knew he was on thin ice, but he was going to walk that line anyway. “What kind of game?”   

“Just a simple game of Q & A.”

Emma felt her shoulders tense up as she looked into his engaging expression. His eyebrow cocked, he was all cheshire grin and roguish charm, as if she shouldn’t have a care in the world about his obvious challenge.  “I don’t know…”

“There’s a catch, to keep it from getting too out of hand. You can only ask a question that you will answer first.” Killian noticed the moment Emma relented, her shoulders visibly loosening up, and a small smile catching her lips. “C’mon, I’ll start, how old are you Emma Swan? I am thirty.”

“I’m twenty-eight, old man.”

“As you can see, I’ve maintained my youthful glow. Your turn.”

Emma sat silently thinking about another question she could ask that she also wouldn’t mind answering. “What do you do for a living? I’m a cop.” She knew that technically she had just quit her job, but she planned to go into the same line of work once she arrived back home.

“I own a shipping business with my brother, Liam. We are based out of England, I run that side. When we expanded to the eastern seaboard of United States six years ago, my brother and his wife were the ones to come out here to set up shop, and now they are ready to go home. Since I’ve no attachments left in England, the logical play is for me to come here and take his place, so he and Elsa can go home.”

Emma didn’t fail to see the bitterness that colored his tone when he spoke of being unattached. She also noticed just how much he’d expounded on his answer; she only hoped he didn’t expect the same.

“So, since I just answered this anyway, what takes you toward the east coast?”

“That’s cheating!”

Killian grasped at his chest, “You wound me, Swan. I was merely killing two birds with one stone!”

Emma huffed with displeasure as she signaled the server to order another drink. “Well, if you must know, I too have a brother and am headed home for a visit.”

“So you are headed to the east coast!” Killian was practically glowing, his smile was so wide.

“What? Oh! You cheater, your shipping business is probably run by pirates.”  Emma clenched her fists on top of the table. She hated being bested! Killian had only known she was headed to Chicago in the midwest, yet he’d outsmarted her with the assumptive question.

Killian just sat preening under his victory and let Emma huff and puff. With any luck her frustration would make it easier to learn more about her.

The waiter came back with their drinks, and Emma immediately ordered two more. “Alright, pirate,” she muttered before tossing back her double, “you’re on.”

They played through dinner, eating, drinking, and laughing. Emma learned that Killian and his brother bicker a lot, but they love each other deeply, his favorite sport is football, surprise, surprise - the American kind. He wanted to be in a boy band as a child, he plays the piano and guitar, and sings, his favorite cuisine is Italian, and he is not a butt or breast man because he is a fan of every part of her… Good one, Jones, she’d told him.  

Killian learned that Emma and her brother get along great and like himself, she gets along famously with her sister-in-law, her favorite sport is also American football, and she had always wanted to go into law enforcement so she could catch all the bad guys. She loved to sing in the shower, did not play any instruments, her favorite food is grilled cheese and onion rings, and she does not have a preferred feature on a man, but does prefer dark hair and scruff. He’d lit up like a firework at that answer.

Emma was a little more loose lipped as they finished their third drink and started in on a triple layer chocolate cake with raspberry drizzle. “Why are you unattached?” she asked around a mouthful of the chocolate confection.

“You have to answer first, love, and if you do, so too shall I.”

Emma rolled her eyes at his flowery phrasing. “I’m unattached because men are assholes.”

“I’m afraid that’s a bit too vague, unless you’d like me to be just as obscure?”

“Ugh, fine.” She thought on how in depth to go and decided to go for broke. Nothing like a little honesty to see if her track record would remain the same. “I’m unattached because my most recent ex slept with our former boss so he could get a promotion we were both eligible for. The ex before that left me during a pregnancy scare, and prior to that, at the start of my bad decisions in a long line of bad decisions was ten years ago when I ran away from the only home and family I had ever known to follow a boy. He left me for someone else after two years, he’d been seeing her behind my back for almost the whole time. Guess I was too caught up in work to notice.”

“Don’t do that, love. Don’t accept someone else’s mistakes as your own. He fucked up, not you, and he’s a bloody idiot for letting someone like you go. They all were.”

Emma could feel the blush along her cheeks, she didn’t exactly know what ‘someone like you’ meant, but she knew he meant it as a compliment. And even though she knew Killian was right about where to lay blame, it was an old habit of a foster kid who couldn’t figure out who else could be to blame but herself, each time things didn't work out with a family.  

“Where did you go, Swan?”

At some point during her reverie Killian had reached across the table top to hold her hand. She shook her head to clear the old hurt. “Just thinking about why I do that… you know, blame myself.”

“And?”

“Well that is another question, and I believe it is your turn to answer.”

“Ah, right you are. I am unattached because from the time I started working, I buried myself in the business. I was a bitter young man, angry at my father for his treatment of my mother and subsequent abandonment of our family, and disheartened that my mother died too young. I had no desire to partake in true love. Sure I scratched the occasional itch, but I was never serious about relationships. I met a woman several years ago who made me see more of what life had to offer. We fell in love, or I at least I did. Turns out she was married to a man several years older than herself and she’d become a bored wife. She was slightly older than me, and I became her boy toy. She told me for a long time that she would leave him, and I let her string me along. The catalyst for our separation was finding out that she had a child. I couldn’t knowingly stay in the picture when there was a child who had a mother and father and the only thing standing in the way of his world remaining intact was me. I couldn’t destroy a family as my father had, so I broke it off. I am better off for knowing her, she opened my eyes to the world around me, and after the initial hurt wore off I feel like I have come out a better man.”

Emma squeezed his hand, but instead of apologizing for his bad experience, she softly said, “We know how to pick ‘em.”

“You say that sarcastically, lass, but we are sitting here together. That’s got to count for something.”

“Your turn,” she said, trying not to smile too big, because it did feel like it counted for something.

“You know what I’m going to ask. You set yourself up for it.”

Emma feigned ignorance, shaking her head and quirking her eyebrow. If he wanted to know, the rules were going to change a little bit.  

“All right, your stubbornness, why do you blame yourself for other people’s mistakes?”

Killian knew he’d made a mistake when Emma grinned like a murderer who’d just been acquitted and could never be tried again. Somehow he had stepped into a trap. He waited anxiously for the punchline.

“Well, since you can’t answer that particular question, I will answer, if and only if I get to ask you any question I want at a time of my choosing, without having to answer it myself,” Emma said.

Killian narrowed his eyes at her. It would seem she had bested him. But what else could she ask that he wasn’t willing to tell her? They’d talked about Liam, Father, his ex; there wasn’t much else to tell.

“Do we have an accord?” she asked.

“Aye, love, we have an accord.”  

“Let’s go back to the room for this one. I don’t tell this story often, when I do I don’t like to tell it in front of a room full of strangers.” Emma stood up, and since they were still holding hands she pulled him up with her. “You can look at my ass this time.”

~♥~

Emma had put off her answer for as long as she could. She’d wondered just how in depth she’d go when telling Killian about her past, as she changed into one of his t-shirts and pulled her hair back into a low ponytail. Now sitting perched in his lap as they sat together in the recliner, unless she used her powers of persuasion for sex, she’d need to answer. She felt rather protected wrapped in his arms, curled in on herself, like she could get through this story without breaking apart.  

“You don’t have to tell me, you know,” he whispered.

“I know.” Emma wrapped his arm around her middle a little tighter and laced their fingers together, snuggling into his hold. “I am choosing to give you the real answer on why I blame myself for how others see and treat me. I haven’t told this story to many and I only ask one thing… no pity.”

Killian brought their joined hands over his heart, “I promise.”

“I was abandoned at birth, found on the side of a road.” Emma stopped to clear her throat, her voice a little hoarse around the bubble that always formed in her throat when she talked about childhood. It wasn’t that she still felt bad for herself, she just hated the way the system had failed in her case. It broke her heart that it was still happening to orphans across the country.  

“I was an orphan most of my childhood. I don’t know everything about the beginning, but I know the parts my adoptive mother told me. When I was found on the side of the road, I was brought to the local hospital. There was a nurse who cared for me and petitioned to adopt me before I went into the system. Her name was Ruth Nolan, and her petition was denied because she was a single mother with a child of her own, and only had a single income. I went into the foster system, and for the next year and a half I lived with a foster family. At almost two I was approved to be adopted by the Swan family, and they named me Emma Swan. Other than being told that tidbit of information, I don’t have any memories of them. On our way home from the final adoption hearing, which had come after a six month adoption process, they were killed in a car crash. My car seat was thrown from the car and I didn’t suffer a single injury.

“I was brought into the same hospital to be checked out, and Ruth Nolan again petitioned for adoption and was denied for the same reasons. The next two years were a mix of different foster homes. When I was four, I was adopted by another family, I remember them well, I lived with them for a little over three horrible years. During that time we moved to Phoenix, Arizona where my adoptive father had invested everything into a business that never took off, it took a toll on him and he started drinking. He’d always been verbally abusive, but he became physically abusive with the drink in hand, and after beating the shit out of my adoptive mother one too many times, he was finally arrested and put behind bars. She tried to take care of me for a time, but she had started drinking heavily too, and by the time I was eight I had missed more than half the third grade and we were living in her car. Social services got involved and I was taken away. They’d given me the choice to stay in Phoenix or go back to my place of birth, but I refused to talk. Either way I was being put back into foster care. After another three years of bouncing from home to home, getting kicked out for fighting, stealing, or just being as nasty and mean as I could be to anyone who got too close, I ran away.

“When I was caught two states away and authorities looked into who I was, they decided to send me back to where I was born, Maine. Once more I was taken to that same hospital, and wouldn't  you know it, that same nurse was there. I was eleven by that time, and she tried again to adopt me, but again the powers that be decided she was not fit to adopt me with just one income and no spouse. What a crock of shit. Not many people are looking for moody preteens to take home and call their own, so I was sent to a local group home. It was probably the best thing for me. No one tried to be a mommy or a daddy, no one tried getting close.  

“Every week Ruth and her son David would come to visit me in the group home. I still don’t know why she cared so much…” Emma sniffed at the memory of the woman who changed her life. Her head ached, maybe a little from the drinks, but mostly from trying to hold the tears at bay. “She was the first person I let into my heart, the first person I remember who chose to care about me. She petitioned for adoption seven times before a judge finally realized I was spending more time at her house than I was at the group home anyway. That or the adoption agency got tired of processing the same paperwork over and over, or maybe they realized she was more stubborn than they were. I was fourteen and a half when I officially moved in with the Nolan’s. Ruth was my savior, and my brother David is the best brother a girl could have. I had three wonderful years with Ruth before she passed.”      

“What happened?”

“Brain aneurysm, it was so sudden.” She’d gone further into her story than she’d anticipated, and choked back a sob as she remembered the end of the best years of her life.

Killian felt the jolt in Emma’s body as she tried to hold back the pain. He tried not to, but how could he not feel some sort of sorrow for the life she’d been dealt? He’d promised no pity though, and he was a man of his word. Instead of offering any words, he just held her tighter, running a hand up and down her back and pressing soft kisses into her hair.

“I kind of spun out of control after her death. David was away at college when it happened, he and his high school sweetheart came home for the funeral. After they left to go back to college, I was right back where I’d always been, alone. I felt like happiness just wasn’t in the cards for me. I found a guy who treated me like nothing special, we were two fucked up peas in a pod, I followed him to the west coast for a new start, and now we’ve come full circle.”

“Thank you for sharing your story with me, Emma.”

“No pity, you promised.”

“No pity, love. I just want you to know I’ve never met such a tough lass. I admire you, Emma. You’re smart, fierce, strong, passionate, kind, all things you instilled in yourself, long before Ruth was allowed to care for you. And here you are, on your way to a new beginning. Not many are brave enough to start anew with little more than their closest possessions and hope.”  

“Hope,” Emma snorted. “You sound like Mary Margaret.”

Killian cocked an eyebrow. “Who is this Mary Margaret?”

“She is a peddler of hope.”

“Hope isn’t a bad thing.”

Emma knew he was absolutely right; Mary Margaret would have said the same thing, and she would have been right too. But she found that she actually believed it when Killian said it. She felt a tiny blossom of hope sprouting in her heart and it simultaneously hurt and soothed her soul. She didn’t realize a tear had fallen until she heard Killian whispering to her not to cry.

He felt the tear hit his bare chest and his heart squeezed for this brilliant woman who had been through enough tragedy and neglect for two lifetimes. “Don’t cry, lass.”

Emma looked up, shedding several more tears even as he spoke the words. “Then help me clear my mind.” She turned and straddled his lap, leaned into him and kissed his lips. “Make me forget.”

“Never forget where you’ve come from, it makes you who you are. I like who you are, Swan.” Killian murmured the heartfelt words against her salty, tear stained lips, kissing her between each few words. He’d help her to clear her mind, but he wouldn’t ever want to change a single thing about her.

Kissing him breathless, Emma ground her hips against his, desperate to connect with him on that earth shattering level, the level she understood. She was loath to admit it, but this was the closest she’d felt to anyone in a long time, and it wasn’t just physical anymore. “Make love to me Killian.”

His breath caught in his throat as Emma whispered those intimate words into his ear. He had a feeling Emma Swan wasn’t in the habit of making love, and he was over the moon that she wanted him to make love to her. “As you wish.” Killian crashed his lips to hers once more and secured her in his grasp, hoping to convey just how passionately he wanted to care for her needs.

Princess Bride, Westley, she thought. That was one of her favorite movies of all time, combining all the perfect elements of an adventurous, love story. She shivered as she realized she wouldn’t even mind if he meant exactly what Westley had meant each time he’d uttered the words as you wish to Buttercup. Who am I and where is the real Emma Swan? She whimpered into the kiss as his hands ghosted up her sides until he was cupping both her breasts and stroking his thumbs over her nipples.

Releasing her breasts and chuckling when she huffed at the loss, he tapped her butt and told her to sit up. “Don’t go,” he corrected when she lifted from his lap and started to step away. “Just let me get rid of these pesky trousers.”

Emma placed her knee back down and lifted up, watching as Killian unbuttoned his pants and slid them down his thighs. He was already hard, and her mouth watered as she debated taking him with her mouth again. Part of her wanted that control right now, but the more dominant part truly did want him to make love to her, to take her slowly and lovingly.         

He used his feet to slide his pants off the rest of the way, and coaxed Emma to sit back down so she was straddling him once more. The feel of skin against skin, warm and soft was heavenly; no friction yet, just touching. Killian firmly grasped her hip with one hand, rolling his thumb over her hip bone, while his other hand was drawn to her face. Staring into her eyes, trying to read every emotion she couldn’t keep hidden, Killian traced his thumb from her chin, along her jaw, until his fingers could curl against the nape of her neck. Pulling her toward him, he placed a kiss to the corner of her mouth and worked his way across before darting his tongue out, seeking entrance. He practically purred when she sunk her fingers into his hair, pent up energy causing her fingers to dance through his locks and along his scalp.

Emma opened as his tongue licked along her lips, leaning into his body and tasting the emotion and desire behind his advances. Her breasts made contact with his chest, and his chest hair teased her to hardened peaks. She rubbed up against him seeking more than the delicate touch. She hummed contentedly as his mouth left hers and he kissed his way down her jaw, behind her ear, and finally to her neck. Her clit ached and her core clenched as he sucked and nipped at the sensitive flesh along the collar of her neck.          

He let his lips travel along her neck, spending time in places where she made particularly lovely noises. Leaning forward he sucked a pebbled nipple into his mouth and was both rewarded and punished with her moans of pleasure. He worried her sounds alone might make him spill as his aching cock twitched against his stomach. Killian decided to sit back in the chair, and pulled her against his whole body, breasts back to his mouth, only this time her core met with his. It was the bit of heaven he needed as she instinctively rubbed herself along his length, spreading her warm wetness from base to tip. “Fucking hell, that feels amazing, love.”

“Mmmm, you’re so hard for me,” Emma whispered. She loved how hot and hard he got, every single time, how all the blood rushed to his cock so he was swollen, and leaking with want.

“Always.”

Despite how loaded that word was, Emma found she loved hearing it. She continued to grind up and down his length, pulling at his hair to bring his mouth back up to hers. The cool air hit her nipple as he released it, and she shivered before pressing against him, seeking the warmth of his body. “Make love to me.”

Killian planted his hands at her hips, guiding her to his tip and she slid down his length unhindered, engulfing him in her slick walls. He held her there steadfastly, savoring the sensation of her sheathing his cock. Killian released her hips in favor of smoothing his hands over her ass to grasp both cheeks.   

“Oh Killian, fuck you’re so big, you feel so good.” Emma rested her forehead against his and breathed in deeply as she adjusted to the welcomed intrusion. When she felt his hands gliding over her ass and gripping her cheeks she lifted slowly, enjoying the drag of his cock along her walls. On her every downstroke he pumped his hips into hers, giving a forceful thrust at the end of each pass.   

Emma rode him slowly, arms back around his neck and fingers carded through his hair. And while Killian always had one hand squeezing and kneading the flesh of her perfect behind, the other was wrapped tightly into her hair that he’d pulled loose. Their bodies rocked together, her breasts rubbed deliciously against his chest, and their lips and tongues caressed and soothed.     

Despite the languid pace, each found themself nearing bliss. It wasn’t lost on Killian that the emotion tied into the evening was what was getting him there, and as much as she might want to deny it, Emma was also aware that the very real feelings were a large part of the reason her walls were already fluttering.

“Fuck!” Killian cursed and his whole body jerked. He broke the kiss and stared wide eyed at Emma. “I’m so sorry, love.”

Emma just smiled; she already knew what he was going to say. She didn’t even skip a beat, just kept her pace as she rode him. “It’s okay, I’m on birth control, it’s been awhile for me, so I know I’m clean. And... I trust you.”

“I swear, I am clean.” He reach a hand toward the table and scrambled for a condom.

“I believe you, no condoms.” Emma grinned a little smug smile at him before closing the distance between them. She sucked his ear into her mouth and bit down softly, enjoying the growl the action elicited. “I am so close, Killian,” she whispered hotly into his ear. “How about I come all over your bare cock this time?” She pulled her head back to see the affect her words had on him.

He was stunned to silence and starry eyed as he watched her ride him, the telltale signs of her climax clear in the slight increase in the stroke of her hips, the tightening of her walls, and the slackening of her mouth. Where the panic of forgetting the condom had briefly pulled him from the moment, her words and the anticipation of feeling her wet pulsing grip without the barrier brought him sprinting back toward the finish line. Killian pulled her mouth to his once more, and somehow he knew Emma felt the same thing - the need to be connected in that final way.

Emma had never experienced a speechless version of this man, and it was quite breathtaking as he still communicated with her, showing her everything she needed to know with the way he watched her, saw her, and then kissed her through the most soothing and sating orgasms she’d ever experienced. Her walls clenched hard around his cock, and she moaned quietly into his kisses, little yeses and his name falling from her lips.    

“Emma,” he rasped, clutching at her hips as he thrust into her a final time, releasing all he had to give deep inside her spasming walls. They broke the kiss to recover breathing, arms holding fast to each other, resting forehead to forehead. “That was…”

“I know,” Emma said when he couldn't quite put into words what they’d just experienced. It was different, it was... special, she finished silently.    

Later, as they drifted off to sleep wrapped in the others’ arms, each found they had new hope sparking their hearts. Killian wondered if the possibility of real, true love did exist for him; perhaps his heart wasn’t as jaded as he’d thought. And Emma wondered if home wasn’t a place, but a person, as she reveled in the unfamiliar feelings Killian Jones was stirring in her heart.      

~♥~

They’d showered and packed up shortly before pulling into Union Station since they both had a train change to move on to their next destinations. After dressing as warmly as they could and stowing their luggage in the train terminal locker station they’d decided to make one last outing together. They sat quietly at the small cafe, each picking at their late lunch. Their little game of Q&A had continued throughout the remaining hours of their trip, and they’d gleaned more little pieces of the other. Now that their time was coming closer to the end, each was stuck in a quandary.

Killian wanted to know where she was headed to next, wanted her to stay with him, even just one more night, and was having a hard time keeping those thoughts to himself. He was nothing if not well spoken, he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he also knew Emma didn’t necessarily want to hear what he had to say. He’d found himself staring at her longingly more than once. Her reaction was a mix between a blush and a smile and sheer panic.

Emma wanted more with Killian Jones. More time, more of his body, more of his conversation and breathtaking smiles, she wanted things she hadn’t wanted with anyone in a really long time, things she didn’t think she’d ever want again. What she did not want was to admit any of that to herself, let alone to the man who sat looking at her like she was his end all, be all. “If you look at me any harder, you’re going to drill a hole in my head.”

Killian chuckled, but didn’t break his eye contact. “Just thinking about what comes next, Swan.”

Though her heart picked up an extra forty beats per minute, she remained outwardly calm. Doing what she does best, Emma Swan avoided the actual question behind his words like a pro. “Well my next train isn’t until this evening, so I guess we could find something to do here in the Windy City.”         

Placing both his hands on the table palms up, he relented to her avoidance. “Let’s make the best of the time we have left then. Care to go ice skating?”

“That sounds fun!” Emma placed both her hands into his waiting ones, knowing she had successfully turned the tables in her direction for now. Standing up and pulling him up too, Emma placed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Lead the way.”

Killian pointed behind her to the small outdoor ice pond that he’d seen when they first arrived at the restaurant.

They settled the bill after arguing over who would pay. Emma won the debate as she threatened to not go ice skating if he wouldn’t let her pay. She argued that she couldn’t let him pay when she wasn’t even paying for her train fare anymore, and she’d won in Winnemucca.

“Perfect,” she exclaimed after lacing up her skates and stepping onto the ice.

“Almost like it was meant to be,” he murmured.

Emma caught his words but chose not to comment. “I haven’t been ice skating since before Ruth passed. We made a tradition of ice skating and hot cocoa at the local pond back home each year. We would go every Christmas Eve eve.”

Killian grasped her hand in his and they started their way around the ice rink. “That’s a lovely tradition, Swan. Why Christmas Eve eve?”

“On Christmas Eve itself we would always volunteer at the local soup kitchen. Ruth and David had been going every year since he was old enough to help, and I jumped at the chance to payback even a fraction of the gift she bestowed upon me. Do you have any traditions?”

“Not in many years. Although this year I am told I’m going with my brother and his wife to give back to society on Christmas Eve.”

“I’m sure my brother and his wife still go to the soup kitchen, so I guess we will both be giving back to society on Christmas Eve.” Emma smiled serenely as comforting thoughts of family and tradition flooded her. Suddenly she couldn’t remember why she’d stayed away so long, and she felt a little ashamed. A stray thought flitted through her mind that she wouldn’t have met Killian Jones if she’d decided to go home any earlier. As quickly as the thought arose she shooed it away.

A sudden image of Emma working to feed the less fortunate popped into his mind, and he was right beside her. He could see the white apron tied around her, hair pulled back and that same contented smile on her lips. His eyes watered and his throat tightened as he shook the images that would never be a reality from his thoughts. What has this woman done to me, he lamented. He was seeing a future, and the word love ricocheted around his brain.

One moment they were looking into each other’s eyes as the world around them stood still, while they floated across the ice with the overwhelming urge to make grand declarations, and the next they were staring up at the sky. A fit of giggles took over Emma’s body as Killian groaned beneath her, because of course when they’d fallen he’d saved her by taking the brunt of the hard ice impact.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Aye, just a bruised tailbone and ego.”

“It would take so much more for that inflated ego to bruise,” she teased him.

Killian laughed loudly at that, threading his fingers through her hair, he brought her face to his and kissed her soundly.

Emma kissed him back, and her heart swelled painfully in her chest as she realized his kisses were slowly coming to an end. “Damn wind,” she muttered as her eyes watered. She swiped at the tears she was going to swear were the result of the icy wind as it swept over them.

Killian hadn’t even noticed the weather around them as he was so consumed by her. When he looked around he realized a light snow had started to fall. Emma looked even more beautiful with her wind grazed pink cheeks and snowflakes sticking to her hair and eyelashes. He fought against the words asking her to stay with him, because he knew it would ruin everything.

“Mommy, are they hurt?” a little voice questioned from behind them.

They both chuckled as they realized they were making spectacles of themselves. Emma heaved herself off of Killian and they helped each other to stand up. They stood facing each other, Killian cocked an eyebrow as if he wished to say something, but no words left his mouth.

“Race ya!” Emma shouted as she let go of his hands and took off as fast as she could. She was a damned chicken, but she couldn’t risk hearing the words that were locked behind that loving look he had been giving her.

“Now who’s cheating?” he called behind her. He’d been saved by her self preservation. Taking long strides Killian quickly caught up to her and swatted her ass. He passed her and then turned so he was skating backwards. “Cheaters never win, Swan,” he taunted.

Emma rolled her eyes and sped up her pace as she pushed off the ice harder. They hurdled toward the side of the rink, each determined to best the other. “Tie,” she shouted as they reached the end of the ice.

“All right, I’ll give you a tie,” he conceded.

“What do you mean, give me?” Emma slapped his chest. “It was totally a tie!”

Killian laughed loudly at the competitive streak in Emma Swan as he led her over to a bench. They took off their skates and Killian offered to take hers back. Emma let herself get lost in thoughts of the past couple days; this was the happiest she’d been in years. She truly was at a loss as she wondered if it was all due to the hot Brit who’d taken up residence in her life, or if it was the clean start she was making. She was interrupted by the very savory smell of hot chocolate when Killian returned with two of the beverages in hand.

“Cinnamon?” Emma asked incredulously.

“Aye, it’s the way my sister-in-law drinks it, and swears it’s the best way to have it. I can get you a new one if you don’t like it.”

“No way!” She pulled the styrofoam cup out of his reach as he grabbed for it. “Your sister-in-law is absolutely correct. I was just shocked because I thought you guessed how I like it. That was a Ruth Nolan secret topping for cocoa.”

“I guess it’s not so secret anymore,” he chuckled as he sipped his own drink.

“Guess not.” Emma giggled when he pulled his cup away and had a little whipped cream mustache. Instead of wiping it away, she leaned up to kiss it from his lips. “You taste good.”

“As do you, love.” He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her close to kiss her more firmly.  

“Let’s take a picture,” Emma suggested. She pulled her phone out and held it at arm’s length.

Killian snuggled up next to her so they were cheek to cheek and smiled for the camera. Once she had snapped a shot, he kissed her on the cheek and rested his forehead to her temple, unaware that she was still snapping pictures. “Send me the picture, love?” He knew it was a long shot - that would require exchanging information.

A moment later he got an AirDrop notification and ten new photos awaited his approval. He accepted them, and decided to take a chance. After Emma put her phone away, he AirDropped his contact information to her, then swooped her up into another passionate kiss to distract her from the notification.      

They walked hand in hand back to the station as the hour of departure grew nearer. A comfortable but somber silence had set in as each fretted over the coming separation. Killian pulled his bag out of the locker, set it down beside him and pulled Emma’s duffel bag out, handing it over to her. When she reached to take it, he grabbed her hand with his. “Don’t go, Swan.”

“Killian don’t,” she whispered, “don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”

“It doesn’t have to be difficult. Just don’t go.”

“I have to go, Killian. I’m going home to start over.”

“Then tell me where that is. We are both headed to the east coast, perhaps we’ll be closer than we think.”

“To Chicago,” she murmured. “You said to Chicago, nothing more.”

“Well what if I want more, what if you want more?”

Emma wanted to tell him she didn’t want more, but she couldn’t lie to him. She’d never had an issue lying to someone before to avoid messy feelings, but as he stood there looking at her with clear tenderness and devotion, she just couldn’t make her lips form the words. Leaning into his body she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Emma poured everything she felt but would never say, into that kiss. “I’m sorry...” she whispered against his lips.

Killian’s spirits lifted as she conveyed her true feelings into their kiss. He heard her apology and wanted to tell her there was nothing to apologize for since she was back in his arms. Before he could speak though, she’d broken from their embrace.

“...but I can’t take the chance that I’m wrong about you.” Inhaling deeply against the vice like squeeze in her chest, she squared her shoulders, prayed her voice wouldn’t crack with the sobs that were mere seconds from spilling forth and looked him in the eye. “Goodbye, Killian.” Her prayer went unanswered as one sob escaped with her final words.  

And before he could make another plea, she turned and fled. “Goodbye, Emma,” he whispered brokenly.

Tagging those who showed interest in part two, or reblogged the first chapter. If you don’t want me tagging you please let me know! @xhookswenchx @teamhook @xemmaloveskillianx @laschatzi @kmomof4 @branlovestowrite @resident-of-storybrooke @rubyrose82 @deathbycaptainswan @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @roseyflush @delightfully-difficult-pirate @effulgentcolors @captainswan-shipper88

[bisexualklausmikaelson]

smoke and sunset ;

―

a/n: au future fic/ or hayley comes back to life but has lost all her memories of the mikaelson family/ or hayley gets elijah’s season 5 storyline lol.

― 

He’s on vacation in Paris.

Klaus Mikaelson hasn’t taken a day off in years. Not since he’s become single dad of the decade and joined the school’s PTA (on Caroline’s request of course, with her sweet voice reminding him that it’s what Hayley would have wanted). He’s even showing up with gourmet cookies at the summer bakesale, dressing to the nines to chaperone school dances – heck he’s even got Alaric patting him on the shoulder. 

Almost as if he’s forgotten that once, a lifetime ago, Klaus was trying to actively ruin him and his loved ones.

So anyway, he’s been good. Good enough to take himself on a vacation to his favourite city he thinks.

(He unpacks and settles in to his beautiful hotel room by the beach. Klaus lies on the soft bed and, for the first time in years, he falls asleep).

― 

He wakes up in the afternoon (after thirty-two straight hours of sleep), to his siblings blowing up his phone, no less. 

You’ve reached Klaus Mikaelson, as you’ve probably concluded, I can’t get to the phone right now. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back.

He let’s them all go to voicemail – Nik it’s me, where are you? Are you off on another one of your killing sprees again? If so, could you please hurry it up already, Marcel and I still need your help picking out the venue for the wedding. Call me back. Rebekah.

He clicks, next message.

Klaus – pick up the damn phone. Keelin and I still need to confirm you as the kids babysitter tonight – we’re going on a date for the first time in years and the twins are really looking forward to go pottery painting with their favorite uncle. Hurry the hell up. Freya.

Click.

Hey, it’s Josh. You know, the used-to-be human now vampire that you like tortured non-stop and made my life a living hell? Yeah? Remember me now? Anyway, Marcel’s been asking about you. Can you please answer him? I’m tired of his freak-outs. Thanks.

Click.

Brother, ‘Lijah’s being incessant with the calls lately, could you please end whatever fit you’re throwing this time around and just reply to him already? It’s Kol by the way, don’t bother calling me back. I’m not interested in hearing from you. Call ‘Lijah.

Klaus rolls his eyes – he definitely wasn’t answering that one.

He flops back in bed sighing, he wonders if that little coffee place by the bistro is still open.

― 

He sits by the table near the door and it’s like he’s been taken back in time.

Café Roberto is the same – old books left on each table with not much care, mismatched mugs, well-loved plates, mason jars with candle lights scented with lavender. It had not changed at all.

Klaus pulls out his sketch book, the one Hope had given him on his most recent birthday. At least she knew where he was, she’s all that matters to him anyway. His siblings, New Orleans, Mystic Falls be damned.

(It doesn’t take him long to catch the dark eyes of a young woman. She’s a pretty little thing, with her gaze on his neck – licking her lips as if she’s savoring something sweet. Mangoes, tangerine nectar on a hot day, sticky and wet with desire. She reminds him of a wolf, predatory with her sights set on her prey.

As he was saying. His neck. Her eyes.

They’re looking into his now, just as they inevitably do.

She disappears. He swears, he feels like he’s seen a ghost).

― 

A few days later, he sees her again.

He’s out on a blood binge – midnight snack if you will. And he’s a mess, plagued by tears and death. Her face, he hasn’t seen that same pair of wolfish grey-green eyes, powdered pink lips, in god damn years. Although, there isn’t a day where he doesn’t think of her words. Where he doesn’t read her letters.

But her face…makes him lose his balance.

(This is her:

She’s far away from him, far enough not to notice him. So she leaves – with fang marks left on broken necks. He’s half-surprised she doesn’t come up to him and knock him out for being such a terrible example for their daughter).

― 

The third time, he’s at the beach.

And a hundred years of living hasn’t changed her much. His opinion of her is the same. She is exquisite – dark-hearted, a survivor at best. It be incredible to think that he’d finally run away, that he was, for once, untraceable. But, as fate would have it, destiny did not work that easily.

Step by step, one foot after the other, it’s as if he’s learning how to walk again. 

“Hayley,” Klaus speaks first, breathless.

She turns, with the look of youth, an inviting smile gone from her lips. She raises her brow at him, with nothing but a puzzling look on her face. She takes her sunglasses off to get a better look at him.  “I’m sorry,” she says. “Have we met before?”

The original hybrid’s eyes widen, his mouth waiting to drip open. He thinks, that maybe, she’s just pulling his leg. She’s supposed to be dead for Christ’s sake.

“Yes,” he blurts out, uncontrolled and lost. “Yes, we have,” Klaus repeats, unaware of the consequences behind his actions.

She looks at the sand between her toes, then, she looks back at him.

“Are you sure?”

― 

It’s been far too long since he’s last seen her. Even though Hope truly does resemble her mother far too much. Still, this situation has the oddest effects on Klaus. He finds himself at a loss for words. He’s been trying to run from anything that reminded him of any semblance of Hayley Marshall.

And yet, here she is, sitting right across from him.

He wanted to leave his past only to find out that he will be forever haunted by it. Her smile is like a light he’s long forgotten. He feels the palpitations in his dead heart; an organ he hasn’t had much use for recently. Somehow, she’s breathing life into him without even laying a finger on him. He’s on his third meeting with her. She studies the rich looking dinner that he so generously paid for.

“I apologize again,” Hayley tells him, and Klaus wishes that her words hurt less. They don’t come from her, they come from a girl who now sees him as a stranger. “I should’ve remembered you, I presume we must’ve been close.”

He sighs, as the memories are stalling inside his head. “More than you know, love,” he breathes, slowly. Something important was stolen from her, this much he knows. “You said you had…an accident?” Hopeless beyond repair, unable to find the right way to make the conversation flow smoothly enough to transition in to a more serious topic – Klaus simply finds himself lost in her gaze.

He’s too aware, someone had granted her artificial memories. “A few years ago, my car crashed. I suffered from a bit of memory loss. I was told some things might never come back to me,” she looks like she actually believes it all. She’s torn and broken.

He knows the look on her face all too well. It’s way too familiar. She’s been this sad little thing her entire life. Could he really be responsible to be the one to break her once again? Could Klaus really handle that? Could he?

She sighs.

In that brief moment, he decides that he hates it when she’s sad.

“So Klaus, was it?” her doe-eyes and soft skin catch him and he loses his train of thought. It’s been far too long since he’s heard his name coming from her voice.  “Tell me, we’re we friends?”

Unmistakably, he nods his head.

“Just friends?” She surprises him, once again. However, before he starts to delude himself, he finds that she is just making sure. After all, anything was possible, they could’ve happened. He’d think the same if their roles were reversed and if, all of a sudden, a beautiful person came to him, claiming to know him and bought him dinner.

He doesn’t take advantage of the moment. Klaus nods again instead. “Yes,” he repeats. “Just friends.”

― 

Klaus Mikaelson is a logical person, under the right circumstances anyway. He lets her believe what she wants. It’s for the best, something extremely terrible must have happened for any of this to ever be possible. He knows he needs to stop calculation and re-calculating this matter. He also knows that the only people who could possibly rearrange another hybrid’s memories had to be one of his siblings.

Though, when she smiles at him, he decides to refrain himself from contacting his family.

You’re not supposed to question miracles, you don’t mess with fate. Or else, he fears she might just be taken away all over again. 

“You should tell me who I was,” she talks to him almost everyday. He’d think she’d stop contacting some man who could quite possibly be a stranger to her. Still, Klaus understands one thing; Hayley is still the same, even if she does not remember who she used to be. She is a curious thing and it’s only natural that she is intrigued about the part of her which she does not know about.

The original hybrid is the only key to opening the doors that are closing her memories.

He feels her hand shaking his arms so he’ll focus his attention back on her. Hayley’s unaware that, even in crowded room, he’d still have his entire focus on her and her alone. “Tell me, what were like? The things we talked about? How we met? Perhaps it might jog something.”

Ironically, he laughs. She always did have so much endless hope in him. “Why are you so insistent, sweetheart?”

She pouts and looks at the sand again. And then, her eyes shift to the footprints they both left far behind. The tide comes in to wash them away. “You act as though I was important to you – it makes me feel guilty.”

Klaus finds that her memory is too good to be erased at all. She should know him, she should know everything. In fact, she deserves to know it. He owes it to her – he knows he does, for all she did for him.

He looks her in the eyes. He pats her on the head.

“Your memory will come back to you in due time,” he tells her instead.

― 

This is her:

She learns not to bother him too much about it. She learns that Klaus is a monster too, just like her. That he likes to write on his spare time – that he wears the same old sweater far too often. He’s sarcastic, but he also laughs at his own jokes sometimes. He’s wise and very knowledgeable about the world. He is a cultured man, despite his appearances. He likes his eggs sunny-side up and sips noisily when he drinks his English tea. He likes biscuits on the side.

This is him:

He learns that she hates math. Not just because she’s horrible with numbers; mostly because math is everywhere and she hates being haunted by things like that. He learns that she loves to bake, even though human food is not essential for her. She makes his eggs sunny-side up. Her cakes always end up tasting way too sugary sweet for anyone’s liking. He learns that she had the worst taste in music. That she counts the starts when she can’t sleep. The she likes to take long walks on the beach.

She used to take them alone.

He walks by her side, letting his hand brush against hers.

― 

The guilt starts to get to him.

― 

He meets Marcel once.

And only once.

“Rebekah compelled her.”

Klaus doesn’t know how to feel right now. His son has always been the tragic hero type – and of course it was her, his own sister had been lying to him. Then again, he hasn’t exactly been fair to her, with how he kept interfering with her love life, maybe she’d finally had enough.

Maybe she’d decided to betray him after all.

“What else could we do? We had to hide her Klaus, she was in danger.”

He feels his insides eating at his organs. The questions come too quick and all at once. It’s like termites crawling on his skin. His eyes are on fire. The guilt is tearing him apart and then, the face of this man, his own damn son and everything he sacrificed for her. For a brief moment, Klaus realizes how wrong he is. Hayley is not his for the taking.

“She doesn’t even remember her own daughter,” He grits between his teeth.

Marcel puts on a façade. He has always worn a mask behind those round eyes of his. His smile is weak, even a child can see the artificiality in it. Nonetheless, he is unselfish underneath that demeanour of the tragic hero.

“She’s happier this way. You know she is, she never wanted to be a Mikaelson!”

His words – they strike something in Klaus. He knows that Marcel is not wrong. He granted Hayley a life of normality, the kind she had always wanted. He recalls her dead parents, her dead husband, how she lost practically everything – how all she’s ever known is pain and turmoil

Still, Klaus knows that it is not his place to speak. He doesn’t tell her like he had planned. 

He runs instead.

― 

And one night, he ends up alone, cold, twisted, spun fast. The city lights hang high, framing his body with its unfamiliar glow. An alarming question he cannot answer; what do I do? What do I do? Two voices inside his head argue with one another; tell her, tell her and you’d be a fool to say anything right now.

She lies beside him with the traffic light shining red. She used to have two options; stay or go. She hates this decision even though she’s never had to make it before. Or at least, she doesn’t remember making any such decisions ever in her life. Still, she picks one and hopefully, she picks the right one. She finds him because he’s stupid, he didn’t call or text her. But he gave her his address, and then she figured out that it was the wrong one. She tracked him down. And she walked in to his life without warning.

Just like the last time.

She looks to him and it feels like salvation.

“You’ll tell me when I’m ready, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

Bared pearly white teeth, wild eyes, nostalgic smile…she has eternity a head of her to be able to figure things out. Her fingers fill the spaces in between his own. “It will hurt,” Klaus feels the need to warn her.

She nods. “I know,” her fingers stiffen. “But I think that, I’ll be okay.”

The original hybrid can’t help but be in disbelief.

She smiles at him instead. “After all, I’ll always have you.”

Klaus looks to her, furrowing his brows. “What makes you say so?”

She rolls her eyes, “I found you, didn’t I?”

And he wonders what that says about the first time that he was able to find her.

― 

(In the end, they watch the sunset by the beach and it’s the year 3005 - he looks back at her and kisses her seldom sweet. She throws her head back in laughter as their daughter catches them sharing this intimate moment. He rolls his eyes, guess some things never change).

―

[vide0-nasties]

All Fs for ylfa euffie and ww 😘

Fun

1. what do they do for fun?

Eustacia: gets tattoos she's been planning on, takes spa days, creates obscure curses, swimming and swimming and swimming, attempts to turn herself into creatures that don't exist yet, reads the same five books a dozen times, goes to carnal shows, plays dress up and gives herself a makeover.

Ylfa: wanders into places she's not allowed, plays the accordion, creates new characters to play (would DEFINITELY be into dungeons and dragons), wrestles people bigger than her, climbs on anything even slightly vertical, reads anything and everything she can get her hands on, eats all the new food she's offered, cartwheels and somersaults and handstands, meets a stranger and fucks that stranger, teaches get dog new tricks, irritates the living hell out of her fiance.

Wildwood: an abominable southerner - can, has, and will sit on a porch talking from sun-up to sun-down, voracious reader, fan of starting fights and fading into the background to revel like Emperor Nero, horse racing, horse training, trick riding, trick shooting, violin/fiddle playing and autoharp strumming, flatfoot dancing, collecting drinking toasts, trotting out those drinking toasts, singing to herself, giving hokey palm reading and tarot reading sessions to friends.

2. what is their ideal party?

Eustacia: It used to be the nine day revelries surrounding events--weddings, funerals, births, holidays. The heavy, frenetic best of drums, voices flung high in hymns, mead overflowing the cups and spilling over the backs of hands, effigies thrown into massive, cleansing bonfires. The Banshees were there to guard, but they always had their own rebellious and private celebrations behind the Sisters' backs. These days, her ideal party is staying home, doing as she pleases, and doing it with the people she'd bleed for.

Ylfa: Her home country doesn't celebrate the turn of the seasons so much as they mourn the loss of the sun for six months and celebrate its return. Twice a year, the streets are overrun during festivals. It's easy to get lost in it, and no response if them ever find their shape the same. She picks a persona before sneaking from the Beserkr's Temple, and for as long as she can get away with, she's someone else, drinking and dancing and watching plays and performances, drowned in sound and light and bodies.

Wildwood: A 50/50 split between camp parties and anywhere the dancing and music are loud enough to drown out her thoughts. She would rather have the comfort and familiarity of family over the mendacity of maintaining a facade for people she doesn't care about and never will, but she'll gladly accept a night where she doesn't have to hear strange voices so long as they can play a prop as well as she can.

3. who would they have the most fun with?

Eustacia: In another life, she and Julian would've gotten on like a house on fire, he playing the spotlight and her the stagehand, but that's come and gone like the plague. With Asra, she is happiest, the two of them an island in the middle of life, occasionally dragging him back out into the open.

Ylfa: Until recently, Ylfa hasn't had anyone that could or was interested in keeping up with her. She still thinks, sometimes, that she's her it best company, able to make fun for herself wherever she goes.

Wildwood: The gang's young folk have heard all the stories--every iteration of "that one time in..." Every bizarre incident, every close call, every "there's no good reason I didn't die that night." If she was interested in chasing the tradition of that girl-on-fire, she'd take up with Sean, or Karen, or, fuck, even Javier if he's got a certain look in his eye. But girl-on-fire has banked down to woman-in-the-glowing-coals, and slinging a gun so hard she falls face down in the mud, or drunkenly trying to thieve a horse that's actually someone's milk cow doesn't hold a fraction of the allure of sitting under a dusk sky until it's all-dark-full-stars as she and Arthur talk their way through a fifth of cheap bourbon, a pot of coffee, and into their bed rolls.

4. can they have fun while conforming to rules?

Eustacia: As largely a homebody as she is these days, she figures that much isn't illegal unless she's caught, and anything of questionable legal standing can't backfire too badly if it's small-scale enough to fit in the confines of the apartment above the shop.

Ylfa: The action of herself having fun is rarely sanctioned, so even going out to look for it is rule-breaking. And beyond that, she's of a serial-trespasser's mindset: all the good shit happens exactly where you don't belong.

Wildwood: She's of two minds on this. She absolutely can have fun sitting still and running her mouth for hours on end, BUT there's just something about thrill of beautifully-executed, extra-judicial redistribution of funds. Crime is fun, and she's yet to find a feeling like divvying up a score after a good job, even if the shrieking delight of the shine wore off years ago.

5. do they go out a lot?

Eustacia: Not often anymore, no. Besides her trips to the red market, she much prefers her small, badly-kept space to the rest of the world. She doesn't like being places where people can watch her, stare at her with impunity. 

Ylfa: As often as she humanly can. Her upbringing has been a long block of isolation--either by choice she didn't make for herself, or forced by someone else's hand. It doesn't matter where she ends up, she always wants to go somewhere she's never been, see things she's never seen. The wanderlust hasn't been burned out of her.

Wildwood: By necessity, she has to constantly be out and about. New jobs don't just form from the ether to fall in her lap. She has to hunt, and prey very, very rarely decides to stumble on to her doorstep. 

[redgillan]

Breaking the Rules - part 6

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:  Modern!AU You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Word Count:2,395

Warnings: the usual 

A/N: I’m sure how I feel about this, but anyway... Spot the B99 quote ;)

Breaking the Rules - Masterpage

“What the hell are you wearing?” Bucky burst out laughing when he saw you.

You had followed his mother and sisters to the wedding venue so you hadn’t seen him since you had left that morning. Becca’s prom dress fitted you just right, but it wasn���t the most appropriate outfit for a wedding.

It was a shimmering purple dress with lots of frills.

“You look like a sparkling plum,” he said, doubling over in laughter.

“Fuck off!”

He finally controlled his laughter enough to speak. “I saved you a seat next to Peggy. The wedding’s about to start.”

“Where’s Dot?”

“No idea.”

Bucky turned back to the door when his mother hissed his name. He excused himself and walked back to the flower girl. He squatted down to talk to the little girl who was staring off into space. Her hands were shaking hard as she held onto the little basket.  

He took a fistful of petals and let them trickle through his fingers. She giggled happily and gave him a big hug. You met Bucky’s eyes before you reluctantly let the usher direct you to your seat.

You greeted Steve and Peggy as you sat down. The musicians were tuning their instruments and you took a moment to look at your surroundings.

Dot was sitting on the groom’s side since her fiancé was one of Henry’s best man. She was in the seat closest to the aisle. She kept her eyes on you as the quartet started playing the famous Pachelbel Canon.

Her fiancé slowly walked arm in arm with Lizzie up the aisle toward Henry. Bucky and Mary followed them and as he walked past Dot, she brushed her hand against his. Your hands balled into fists at your sides.

The ceremony was long and, quite frankly, pretty boring. You were mulling over the events of the last couple of days with a scowl on your face. The night before, Bucky had taught you a bit of sign language, mostly bad words and insults. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t flirted a bit with him.

His smile made your stomach do flip-flops. It was very confusing because you were not ready to admit –even to yourself- that the man you hated more than anything made your heart beat faster.

His sister was saying her vows when your eyes met his. He frowned at you, silently asking why you looked so gloomy.

You gave him a little shrug. You nodded towards Dot, then you made a b-handshape and placed the tip of your fingers on your chin. ‘Dot’s a bitch.’ Bucky chuckled quietly, trying not to attract attention.

You spent the rest of the ceremony signing the dirty words he had taught you. Bucky tried to discreetly reply to you, but it was difficult since he was facing the entire crowd.

He pointed toward you, then closed his hand while moving it in a circle in front of his face. You frowned, not knowing what it meant. He smiled at you and clapped along with the rest of the guests as Henry kissed Rebecca.

You walked up to him after the ceremony. “What does that mean?” you asked, mimicking the gesture.

“You’re beautiful,” he answered, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

You blinked at him, at a loss for words, and he smiled tenderly. He took your hand and led you away from the crowd. Unfortunately, you couldn’t escape his mother, she had eyes everywhere.

Winnie wanted to get pictures of the two of you with the rest of the family. You tried to reason with Bucky. You were his fake girlfriend and wedding pictures are a big deal, but he only squeezed your hand tighter.

An hour later you finally sat down at your assigned table. Bucky introduced you to everybody at the table.

“You already know Steve and Peggy,” he said, then turned to a woman with long dark hair and a man with bleached-blond hair. “And these two troublemakers are Pietro and Wanda Maximoff.”

“I used to babysit them,” Steve said, a smile on his lips. “You guys are adults now, it makes me feel old.”

Peggy chuckled as she rubbed small circles over her tiny baby bump. “It’s good to know you have experience with kids, darling.”

You all laughed with her, Steve playfully rolled his eyes before he started a conversation with Pietro.

Bucky looked at the small crowd near the buffet table and his eyes widened for a second before a large smile spread across his lips. He quickly excused himself and crossed the room to kneel beside the flower girl.

He raised his hand above his head and gave her a high five. He spoke to her, probably telling her that she had done a great job during the ceremony. You watched him put a hand on his chest, somewhat dramatically, as the little girl twirled in place to show off her pretty dress.

You chuckled to yourself, unable to tear your eyes away from him. A good-looking twentysomething ran towards the little girl, she had panic written all over her face. She scolded the little girl who quickly rushed back to the kids’ table.

Bucky got to his feet and smiled at the twentysomething before he nodded toward the far corner of the room. She followed him. A strange feeling bubbled up inside you, one you remembered all too well.

Jealousy.

You tried to push the feeling away, knowing it would only cause you pain. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t even your friend. He was just Natasha’s annoying neighbour.

You suddenly stood up from your chair, startling Wanda and Peggy, and headed to the buffet table. When Bucky joined you, you were aggressively scooping a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto your plate.

He stood too close for your liking so you shifted a bit further away from him. He glanced sideway at you and frowned.

“Something wrong?”

“No.” Your voice sounded harsher than you had intended.

“Okay, you’re a bad liar,” he chuckled awkwardly. “C’mon, what’s going on?”

With a loud sigh, you threw the spoon back into the bowl and turned to face him. “You know what? We’re supposed to be a couple, but as soon as you have the opportunity to hit on a girl, you-”

“Wow, wait, what?” he interrupted you.

“I saw you with that girl!”

He stared at you for a second before he started laughing quietly. You put your plate down and crossed your arms over your chest. The fact that he was laughing at you infuriated you even more.

“You’re an idiot,” he said, still laughing. “That girl was hired to watch the kids. She’s my sister’s girlfriend, I found out yesterday and my parents don’t know Lizzie is dating a girl. I wanted to make sure she was right for my little sister. Just like I would have done if she’d been dating a guy.”

“Oh,” you replied lamely, uncrossing your arms.

“Are you jealous?” He leaned closer, taunting you.

“No!” you gasped.

“I think you are.”

Bucky hesitated a bit before he cupped the side of your face and let his thumb brush your jaw. Your body betrayed you and leaned into his touch. Then, your eyes snapped open and you quickly pulled away from him.

“I have to go.”

You bolted out of the room before he could say anything. He called out your name, but you kept walking.

Once you were finally outside, you breathed out a sigh of relief. You shivered slightly as the cold night air hit your bare arms and legs. 

Men like him were dangerous and you couldn’t let him hurt you. They’re like incubi. They seduce their prey, suck the life out of them and leave... although today they are better known as fuckboys.

You put your back against the wall, slid down and sat in an attempt to calm yourself.

Pulling your phone out of your bra, you decided against calling Natasha and looked through your contacts until you found Maria’s number. She picked up after the second ring.

“Tell me I’m crazy,” you blurted out without even saying hello. “I need someone to yell at me.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

Through the phone, you heard a sharp intake of breath and the sound of a door closing. You had her undivided attention.

“Oh, right!” she said as she remembered your previous conversation. “You’re with that guy, the one you don’t like.”

“Yeah.” You closed your eyes, trying to find your words. “You’re a no-bullshit kind of person, right? So tell me I can’t develop feelings for someone I don’t like. Tell me that three days can’t change everything.”

You waited, but she didn’t say anything. After a moment, she let out a forceful sigh. “I can’t tell you that. You have feelings for someone, it’s not crazy. It’s completely normal.”

“I don’t have feelings for Bucky,” you gasped, annoyed. “He’s annoying and... moody... and-”

“You like him,” Maria interrupted. “I saw it the moment he walked into the restaurant. It was like I wasn’t even there anymore.”

“No,” you shouted. “It’s not one of those ‘I’ve always loved you and now I’m seeing you’ moments.”

“Okay, but maybe it’s a ‘I didn’t particularly like you and now I think you’re not that bad’ moment.”

She gave you some time to think it over. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment. She was right.

“Yeah, he’s not that bad,” you admitted.

“Halleluiah,” Maria exclaimed, making you chuckle. “You don’t have to jump into a relationship. You can just have a little fun, but you have to talk to him.”

“You make it sound like he has feelings for me.”

“Oh, sillyhead,” she laughed softly. “Do you know why little boys pull little girls’ pigtails on playgrounds?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Because they like the girls and that’s the only way they know how to get their attention.”

After she ended the call, you decided to head back inside and find Bucky. It took a lot of strength to push yourself off the ground and open the door. You didn’t have a whole speech prepared, you just hoped for the best.

You heard Bucky say your name and you turned toward the sound. He walked down the hallway toward you and you suddenly realized you had absolutely no idea what to say to him. He stopped an arm's length away.

“I thought you were gone.”

“Where would I go?” you replied.

“My parents’ house.”

“Alone and in the middle of the night?” you scoffed.

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You keep pushing me away.”

He tried to look casual, but he remembered the look in your eyes when he had cupped your face. You had leaned into his touch, sought his warmth, even if for just one second, but then your eyes sprang open in alarm and he mistook your fear for disgust.

It hurt more than he was willing to admit. Seeing you run away from him was the final blow.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I was trying to be... funny, I guess. I wanted to make you laugh.”

“Laugh?” you repeated, frowning and cocking your head to one side.

He groaned and raked a hand through his hair, messing it up before the silky strands obediently fell back into place. He opened his mouth and closed it, as if he couldn’t find the right words.

“Every time you laugh,” he started to explain while gesturing furiously. “I have this warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach and it spreads through my whole body and it feels so good.”

“Don’t do that,” you whispered.

You closed your eyes and focused on slowing your heartbeat. And then he understood, it wasn’t disgust he saw in your eyes. It was fear.

“No, don’t shut yourself off. Not with me,” he warned, taking a step forward. “I know you felt it -that spark between us.”

“What do you want from me?” you cut him off.

“I want...” Bucky looked around frantically, trying to express feelings he had never felt before.

He wanted to talk for hours in bed on lazy Sunday mornings. He wanted to hold your hand as you both walked through Central Park at night.

He wanted to tease you, say stupid things and make you laugh. He wanted to wrap his body around yours, to feel you against him, to keep you safe and happy.

“-you,” he answered simply. “I want you.”

You closed the distance between you and brought his lips down to yours. Initiating the kiss enabled you to control everything. You abandoned yourself completely and kissed him hard.

He stumbled slightly and backed you up against the wall, one hand against it for support. Yet, he made no move to take control of the kiss and, instead, let you savour him.

The thought of someone catching sight of you made you dizzy with desire and Bucky’s free arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up. You pulled back slightly and began trailing open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, then his neck.

“Yes, keep going,” he moaned. “Right there!”

He arched into you when you found that sweet spot just behind his ear and laved it with your tongue. You bit, sucked and licked his tender flesh, satisfying an animalistic need to mark him, to let everyone know that he belonged to you.

When you pulled back, your eyes widened slightly. An angry red mark stood in stark contrast to his pale skin. Bucky shivered when you traced it with the tip of your forefinger.

He took a step back, a dopey look in his eyes as he stared into nothing. His tie was loose and his shirt was almost completely untucked. He tried to say something, but his brain was too fuzzy to figure out how to speak.

Instead, he touched his lips; they were still warm and tingly.

You couldn’t handle these sudden feelings, so the irrational part of your brain took over. You had to get away from him.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

You ducked your head in shame and rushed back into the main room, leaving Bucky confused and dazzled in the middle of the hallway.

Part 7

[broadwayhopeful23]

Christine Daae, but She Cries Less

Okay, plot twist: What if ALW’s Christine is not afraid of the Phantom the whole time and cries a lot less to be the strong female character we know her to be? Let me explain: Christine is somewhere between 16 and 20 years old. She is a strong, independent orphan who runs her own life. She stopped believing in angels a while ago. She knows that the Angel of Music is a person, and it's not a coincidence to her that 'the Opera Ghost' acts in her favor. She's confused and unsure, because who IS this angel/ghost/phantom/man and how does she feel such a strong connection to this person who she's never met/seen? In "Angel of Music" she tells Meg about her music teacher, "the angel", because that's how it began and how else is she going to describe it? Yes, at the end, it says "Your hands are cold/It frightens me" but this is where I say that Christine can be afraid and unsure about something without being portrayed as a frightened little girl. Normal people fear things. She obeys her music teacher in dismissing Raoul, and then follows the Phantom so that she can finally learn more about him. She goes willingly to his lair. In "I Remember/Stranger Than You Dreamt It", Christine didn't mean to 'attack' the Phantom when she took off his mask, she's just a curious person. Then, after seeing his deformity, she pities his pain. Imagine her delivering her lines in "Why Have You Brought Me Here?" with an unsure but decisively pitiful air instead of crying and being scared. 

Christine's parents weren't around to really teach her that some people are born deformed and that happens. Think of the time period, that’s not really something that was discussed. So when Christine sees the phantom/angel/man with a horrifying face, she has a really hard time comprehending it. Yes, his anger when she unmasks him is frightening, but the iconic moment when she gives back the mask evokes the line from the title song, "I am the mask you wear". Christine's talent, and through her, his music, is the part of himself that he shows the world. (I never understood that part until today, and really, the title song doesn't make ANY sense UNLESS Christine knew that the angel and the phantom/opera ghost were all the same person) Christine is, as many people are, afraid of what she doesn't understand - the Phantom's deformity AND his feelings for her, doubled by her strong feelings for him that she can't identify. Christine has never been in love before. 

Yes, I am 100% Team Raoul when Raoul is played right, and Christine IS in love with him. But she has feelings for the Phantom which are real too, she just can't explain them when she is firstly confused in general about his entire existence - a deformed musician guy living in the basement? Back to "Why Have You Brought Me Here?", her description of his lair is just a description, there's no fear in those words unless an actress displays it. “His world of unending night” - again, he lives in the basement. Christine speaks of her confusion and somewhat aversion towards his face, but immediately returns to how the Phantom makes her feel, and the connection they have with each other through music "But his voice filled my spirit with a strange sweet sound..." She is also of course super disturbed because the Phantom just killed Joseph Buquet and that's really scary, but he was a drunk and a creep - I'll return to this point later. When her and Raoul sing "All I Ask of You" she means every word! 💕 While she may not fully know yet that the Phantom is in love with her (despite the wedding dress - she fainted, and she doesn't definitely look at the mannequin later, so she I think that she forgets about it until “Masquerade” or even the final lair, and thinks that she dreamed that part especially since the bride wore her face) but Christine knows full well that he dislikes Raoul. He did call Raoul "Insolent fool, this slave of fashion". But she decides that Raoul's love - a love of support, protection, and a bit of nostalgia, like a fairy tale - is what she obviously wants over the Phantom's temper and jealousy, despite the feelings she has for him and their connection through music. So when Raoul and Christine get engaged sometime in between acts one and two, it is absolutely what she wants and she thinks that the phantom/angel is hiding from her and the world since he angrily dropped the chandelier and basically told her to leave with Raoul the night of Il Muto. So she knows that not telling anyone about the engagement is the safest plan for Raoul. Especially considering her line to Raoul, post-Buquet's death "We must return/He'll kill you!" So when the Phantom returns during "Masquerade" and says "Your chains are still mine. You will sing for me" she IS scared for Raoul and her relationship with Raoul because the Phantom hasn't given up on his feelings for her. 

And in "Twisted Every Way" she talks about how this time the Phantom will take her to his lair and she doesn't want to go willingly anymore. She thinks that the Phantom doesn't trust her now that she's engaged to Raoul. (Also, since Christine doesn't wear an engagement ring for the rest of act two, did she call off the engagement with Raoul to assuage the Phantom? If so, you go girl! More proof that Christine makes her own decisions) Even though she straight up says "Raoul, I'm frightened. Don't make me do this. Raoul, it scares me. Don't put me through this" she talks about her fear of being kidnapped, but a part of that fear is of Carlotta, Piangi, and the managers in the room who don't give a damn about her feelings and will force her to perform in Don Juan Triumphant. Christine isn't weak, she goes right up to Carlotta's face like "you evil woman" and I've always thought that the line "I cannot sing it. Duty or not" from Christine was actually just her being sassy. Of course she can sing it she’s Christine Daae! With this new perspective on Christine I find that "Twisted Every Way" would be sung rather angry and a little facetious instead of crying and unsteady. She doesn't need that chair! She fainted in the Phantom's lair because she was shocked by a wedding gown with her face in it and then the mannequin moved!! She's not feeling that way now. I think that this is what Christine is thinking: "Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live?" 

Are you guys seriously asking me to do something that I'm super uncomfortable with?!

"Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice? Do I become his prey? Do I have any choice?" 

Can I trap him like that? “Who ONCE inspired my voice”, I'm trying to move on from this guy and our unhealthy relationship, and you want me to confront him??? Just because he's being horrible to you doesn't mean that you can use me as a pawn. More historical context: When the her MALE employers (the managers) tell her she has to perform, no, she doesn’t really have a choice.

"He kills without a thought, he murders all that's good"  

This returns to the point of Joseph Buquet. He was not "all that's good". She just says this part to lie convince everyone that she's playing along and pretending to see their point of view as to why she should be in the opera against her wishes. I especially think this because it leads into "I know I can't refuse, and yet I wish I could".

Then we have rehearsal and "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" and then "Wandering Child". Oh boy. She knows exactly who calls out to her at her father's grave but questions his intentions and whose point of view she should be looking through simply by saying "Angel or father? Friend or phantom?" Which role in my life are you playing right now? It's kind of sassy actually.

Angel-teacher

Father-leader

Friend-friend 

Phantom-murderer who loves me

When he picks teacher, she is relieved because they haven't had a music lesson in months. This is a simple joy that she’s missed somewhere deep down. "Wildly my mind beats against you/You resist yet the soul obeys..." She's known for so long that the phantom whom she fears and her angel are one and the same, but she needs some type of comfort from this person who means so much and so many things to her. But then Raoul interrupts. Eh. Jeez, Raoul! Such a hero, but you're preventing major development! Oh well, moving on. 

"Point of No Return" - there's HELLA sexual tension! This is really the first time that the Phantom and Christine have spent 'quality' time together since "Music of the Night", and that was MONTHS ago! She doesn't think for a second that Don Juan is being played by Piangi, she knows the Phantom's voice right away. 

Music IS their main connection...performing HIS music that he wrote FOR her? Especially in such a high stakes situation = 😍😍😍🌹🌹🌹🔥🔥🔥

She takes off his hood so that the two of them can finally stop pretending it's Piangi. And then she unmasks him to see his real face when he tells her “share with me one love, one lifetime” because you need to see someone’s full face when they say stuff like that! And the Phantom is trying to finally be heard by the world, through his opera and his love for Christine. It’s time for him to finally be revealed as himself, therefore symbolically revealing his intentions and emotions. Note that following his unmasking, the Phantom has the most constant stage time and says the most that audience has heard from him throughout the whole show. Symbolism for this idea comes from the title song: “I am the mask you wear/It’s me they hear”. I never liked the portrayal of a Christine that unmasked him to be mean. But after doing so, her worst fear comes true, he becomes angry and kidnaps her. 

I've never heard anyone talk about this, and I think it's really important: The line "Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?" means that Christine either:

1) Doesn't know that the Phantom has killed Piangi. The managers/audience don't discover the body until AFTER she has been kidnapped. She won't find out then until after the final lair. So she may mean by this line that she doesn’t entirely think this, but she suggests that while he left her for those months, he was off killing people and now he’s just back because of his jealousy that he calls ‘love’. She says it just to start a fight and he bites back, not honestly agreeing, but conceding to her bad opinion of him. “That fate which CONDEMNS me to wallow in blood...”. 

OR

2) She had automatically assumed that he killed Piangi in order to play Don Juan and of course she's furious. 

And then the final lair happens and Christine is equally sassy and compassionate. And I also imagine that there is a ton of leftover sexual tension between the Phantom and Christine because they just performed "Point of No Return" and now she's in a wedding dress and she can really look at his face for the first time. It's super unhealthy (he's threatening to hang her boyfriend/ fiancé and that wasn't a surprise move on his part) and the Phantom is not her first choice but she has always had unresolved feelings for him and that's why the "you are not alone" kiss is so passionate. That love is not out of nowhere. 

I also think it’s possible that Raoul tells Christine to give the Phantom his ring back while they are “offstage”. Christine would keep it as a memory of the unfortunate, yet totally deranged, man who fell in love with her and keep it as a sign to show everyone compassion because everyone has a different story, but Raoul hates the Phantom so he’d think it's gross. She doesn't fight Raoul on it, because even though it's a really good lesson, it's also a really toxic memory. And then she leaves with Raoul for their much healthier and very loving marriage. She is slightly traumatized of course, but strong. 

Pretty please comment and ask me questions!!!