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angelasscribbles · 3 years ago

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Savage Love Chapter 9: Acceleration

Series: Savage Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: R

Warnings: Mature themes

Song Inspiration: Whatever It Takes by Imagine Dragons

Word Count: 3,670

My other stuff: Master List.

There was a knock on the wall behind the secret panel. Was Drake early or had I lost track of time? What the kitchen sent up may have officially been lunch, but it was more like breakfast since it was the first meal I’d been awake for. I glanced at the clock, he was a little early, but not by much. I had definitely lost track of time.

I walked over to the bookshelf and pushed the hidden button. The panel slid open to reveal Drake standing there. He was dressed casually in a plain black t-shirt and pair of faded jeans. His hair was neater than I’d ever seen it, and slightly damp, he was freshly showered. He looked damn good and smelled even better.

“Morning Captain.”

“It’s afternoon Brooks.” He told me as he stepped into the room.

“Yeah, I guess it is. It was a late night, sorry, I’m running behind, I was just about to get dressed.”

“That’s why I came by a little early. It occurred to me that I should warn you not to wear a dress. Shorts or jeans, something comfortable. And you’ll want to bring something to tie your hair up with.”

I blinked at him, “Is that all the clue I’m getting?”

“Yep.” He grinned at me.

“Hey, Riley, thanks for lending me-“ Hana stepped out of my bathroom dressed in one of my t-shirts and a pair of my shorts, toweling her hair. She froze when she saw Drake. “Oh! Ah….sorry! I know you have plans, I just….I’ll get out of your way!”

“It’s ok, Hana. You’re fine.” I told her. I looked back at Drake, “Give me a minute?”

He nodded his head as his eyes took in the food tray with two place settings and the still rumpled bed.

She quickly gathered her clothes from the previous night, and I walked her to the door. Before I opened it, I cupped her face in my hand and tilted her head up, leaning forward, I brushed my lips across hers. She sighed as her eyes fell shut and I tangled a hand in her hair, tugging her forward to deepen the kiss before pulling back and giving her a smile. After I closed the door behind her, I made my way back to the dresser and started rummaging around for clothes to change into.

Drake cleared his throat, “So… you and Hana?”

I stood up and turned to face him, “It was just a one-night thing, we both agreed. Does that bother you?” Why was I asking if it bothered him? We weren’t in a relationship.

He shifted his feet as his hand went to adjust other things, “Nope. That is not the reaction I’m having right now.”

Oh, right, of course. Well, might as well use that to my advantage. I moved closer to smirk up at him as I ran a finger down his chest, “Next time I’ll invite you to watch…or join in maybe….”

He flushed. It was harder to get that fluster reaction out of him than it was with most men. That just made it more satisfying.

“You’re killing me, Brooks.”

“Good.” I tossed him a mischievous grin. “Now, what do you think?” I asked holding up a Yankees t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants.

“Perfect.” He replied, “Like you.”

I ignored that and gave him another smile as I pulled my shorts off.

“Oh! I can turn around-“ He started to spin away from me.

“Why?” I asked.

“To give you privacy.”

“Drake. You’ve already seen everything I’ve got.” I admit it, I wanted him to look. It had been a couple of days since he had touched me, not counting the dance at the masquerade ball. And while I hadn’t been suffering from lack of touch in general, when he was standing that close to me, I found myself craving his touch, specifically.

“I…. can’t argue with that.” He said, turning back toward me and letting his eyes run up and down my body. I shivered under his gaze.

I quickly changed from the clothes I had thrown on after my shower earlier into the Yankees shirt and pants. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and added socks and a pair of athletic trainers. I pulled out my SIG Sauer P238 because it was the smallest gun in my arsenal and easiest for concealed carry, attaching it to my hip, under my shirt with a crossbreed micro clip holster.

“You’re not going to need that, Brooks.” Drake told me.

I shrugged, “You never know. And I don’t travel anywhere without a weapon.”

“Ok, fine.” He shrugged. “Do you have a leather jacket?”

“What kind of question is that?” I snorted, “Of course I have a leather jacket. Nothing smells better than leather.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. Yeah, ok, I might have a slight leather fetish. I grabbed the jacket out of the closet and asked, “Why do I need this?”

“You’ll see. Ready?”

“Ready.” I agreed.

We slipped out through the secret panel, and I followed him through the passageways once again. This time we went down instead of up. This trip took longer than the trip to the royal wing. When we came out, we were in a garage. A huge one. It looked more like a car warehouse to be honest.

“So, I take it we’re leaving the premises?” I asked.

“We are.” He affirmed as he grabbed my hand and held it while leading me through the garage. “But don’t worry, you won’t have to worry about anyone seeing you that shouldn’t.”

“Ok…”

First, we wound our way through the official royal vehicles. They were easy to identify because they were all back, mostly limos and SUVs.

Next, we passed through an area full of high-end sports cars, most likely belonging to the royal family. Leo, I was guessing. Finally, we stepped through a doorway into a smaller garage filled with a variety of vehicles. Drake stopped in front of a black and red motorbike.

“Is that a Ducati?” I blurted out.

He looked at me in surprise, “You know bikes?”

“A little,” I told him, “I love them! Well, I love riding them!”

A grin broke out across his face, “I guessed that about you. Here.” He pulled two helmets off a nearby shelf and handed me one, “While I have no doubt you can handled yourself on one, I hope you don’t mind riding on the back this time.”

I ran my eyes over his body, “Oh, somehow I think I’ll survive.”

I mean, could this man get any hotter? The thought of wrapping my arms around him and pressing my body into his as we roared down the highway was doing things to me, and we weren’t even on the bike yet.

He got on and pushed the kickstand up as the bike roared to life. I jumped on behind him and away we went. I wrapped my arms around him and leaned my head on his back inhaling the scent of leather mingled with something uniquely Drake. Not gonna lie, I got a little damp between the legs just from that.

As we left the palace grounds and hit the road, I tipped my head back to let out a whoop as I felt the swoosh in my stomach from the acceleration. He laughed and I could feel the rumble where our bodies touched. We flew down the road as the countryside rushed past, blurring in my peripheral vision.

After about twenty minutes, Drake turned into a small airfield. We came to a stop in front of a hanger with a small, two engine plane sitting on the runway out front.

He parked and we both slid off the bike. I was a little reluctant to let go of him, but I was curious. As I removed the helmet I asked, “We going up in that?”

“Yep!” He grinned at me in excitement. I mean, he looked like a kid on Christmas morning, I’d never seen him like that before. It made me smile.

“What?” I asked him.

“Have you ever jumped out of one before?” He asked.

“No, I haven’t. Is that what we’re doing?” I was practically bouncing up and down.

“Yeah. Unless you’re scared?” He teased.

“Pfftt. Are you kidding me? I’ve always wanted to go skydiving!”

“Then today’s your lucky day! I’m glad I get to be the one that’s there for your first time.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I laughed.

An older man stepped out of the hanger, a grin breaking out across his face as he made his way over to us. “Drake!” He grabbed his hand and shook it enthusiastically as he clapped him on the shoulder. “And who is this lovely young woman?”

“Hank, this is Riley Brooks. Riley, meet Hank Barnes, the man who taught me how to jump out of planes.”

I shook his hand, “Military?”

“Retired now.” He told me, “But I still teach people how to jump out of airplanes. Just not into combat zones.”

“I appreciate that,” I joked, “that might be a little more excitement than I was bargaining for today.”

Hank snorted, “Ya think?” Then he ushered us over to the equipment. “You know when I first started this business, Drake used to moonlight as a jump instructor.”

“Really?” I asked in surprise.

Drake shrugged, “Hank needed help getting the place up and running on a limited budget and I basically traded helping him for the chance to do my own jumps whenever I wanted.”

“So, this is your idea of weekend fun, huh?”

This time I got a grin, “Hell yeah.”

“Ha! Adrenaline junkies represent!” I held my hand up for a high five and he slapped it, his smile widening.

Hank quickly went over everything I was going to need to know for the jump. “What you’re going to do today is called a tandem jump. For that, you need to be attached to an experienced diver. In this case, that’ll be Drake. So once the harness-“

“Wait…we’re going to be strapped together?” I quirked an eyebrow at Drake in amusement.

“Oh, it’s perfectly safe!” Hank reassured me, “There are four attachment points: two at the shoulders and two near the hips. You'll both face forward when connected. There has never been an incident, in the history of tandem skydiving, of a failed attachment point.”

I held eye contact with Drake throughout Hanks entire spiel. “Not really my point.” I grinned.

“Oh, well….was there another question?”

“No question.” I still hadn’t broken eye contact and Drake’s eyes had gotten darker the longer I held it. “Just find it interesting that to get here, I had to be pressed up against him on the back of his bike and now he’s going to literally strap me to his body?”

Hank looked back and forth between us as I walked over to Drake, a little extra sway in my hips. “Uh….”

When I made it over to him, I tipped my head back and gave him a sultry smile as I trailed a finger down his arm, “If you wanted to touch me that bad Captain, you could have just asked.”

Hank threw his head back and laughed as he told Drake, “She’s a live wire, that one.”

“Don’t I know it.” Drake murmured as he gave me a heated look, laced with a fair amount of genuine affection. That look made things low in my body tighten. It also kind of set my heart to racing. Well, shit.

“Hey! Are we going up today or should I come back tomorrow?” A voice called out from the doorway of the plane.

“Hold your damn horses, Rossi!” Drake called back.

“That’s Marco.” Hank told me, “He’ll be flying the plane.

“Hi Marco!” I waved.

Marco’s face split open in a grin as he practically jumped down out of the plane to join us. He looked back and forth between me and Drake with interest, “Who’s your friend, Walker?”

“My name is Riley Brooks.” I said, sticking out my hand.

He took it as he made a display of checking me out, “And what kind of magic spell have you cast on Drake here?”

I laughed, “What?”

“He has never brought a woman here before. Or, anywhere.”

“Jesus Rossi, would you shut the hell up?” Drake ran a hand across his face in frustration.

“No, wait. I want to hear this.” I perked up at the insider information, “What do you mean or anywhere? I have it on good authority that Captain Walker here is a grade A man whore.”

Both Hank and Marco laughed. Drake turned to me in astonishment, “From who?”

“Leo.”

His hand dropped away from his face as a slow smile spread across it, “You’ve been talking to Leo about me?”

I felt myself flush. “No. I mean, a little, not like that, just…, never mind.” Turning back to Marco, I asked, “So if Leo is right, then how do you expect me to believe you’ve never seen him with a woman before? Both things can’t be true.”

“Oh, I’ve seen him with plenty of women!” Marco snorted.

“Well now you’re just contradicting yourself.”

“No.” Marco shook his head, “I said I’ve never seen him bring a woman anywhere. Leave with them? All the damn time. But bring one with him somewhere? No. Never. Not here, not to a club, nowhere.”

Drake smacked Marco in the chest and the man visibly flinched, stumbling back a bit as he laughed, “Sorry man! Just answering the lady’s question!”

My eyes found their way to Drake’s face again, but he made a point of not looking me in the eye this time. Interesting. Instead, he grunted as he started lifting gear, “Let’s just get up in air already. Here, Rossi, do something fucking useful for a change.” He transferred his armload to Marco.

“Touchy, touchy.” Marco shot a grin at me on his way past, dropping his voice too low for Drake to hear, “You might have broken him.”

I snickered and Drake’s head snapped around to find me, flicking between me and Marco, “What?”

“Nothing.” I shrugged innocently.

He shook his head, “Just great.” He grumbled. Then, changing the subject, he motioned me over to wall of harnesses. He eyed me up and down seriously for a moment then pulled one off the wall, “This one should fit.”

I slipped into the harness and Drake started adjusting straps.

“You know, I could do that myse-“

He shook his head, “The fit has to be right, for your safety. Damned if I’m letting you slip out of an improperly fitted harness.” He was so serious; all the playfulness was gone as he concentrated on adjusting the straps. I had seen him businesslike when we were reviewing case files, but this was another level of focus. I imagined this must be what he was like in the field. Good to know he could be counted on not to get distracted under fire.

I wish I could say I maintained the same level of detachment as he worked, but his hands were literally all over my body. When he bent down to adjust the straps the around my legs, I had to suppress a little moan. He noticed. He smirked up at me as he stood slowly, trailing a finger up the inside of my leg.

When he was fully upright, he gripped the front of the harness and jerked me forward until we were barely an inch apart. My heartrate sped up as I stood there, just staring up into his eyes. He stared back with what I can only describe as a smolder. I swear the temperature went up about ten degrees. He reached out and cupped my face, running a thumb across my cheek, “You ready?”

I didn’t trust my voice right then, so I nodded. I followed him across the tarmac and climbed up into the plane. I took a seat on the bench and Drake took a seat next to me. He reached over and took my hand as the plane taxied down the runway. I’m used to flying and don’t get nervous at takeoff, so I glanced up at him questioningly. He smiled down at me with a shrug as he gave my hand a squeeze. I returned the smile and squeezed his hand back.

Once we were in the air, it was time to hook the harnesses together. I felt the adrenaline start to snake its way through my body in anticipation. I was very aware of Drake’s body right behind me. They were two different types of thrill, but they combined into one heady combination.

Before I knew it, we were free falling. That initial step out of the plane was the most intense adrenaline spike I’ve ever felt. It surged through me as the sensation of plummeting toward the ground left my stomach behind in the plane. It made motorcycle riding look tame by comparison. I let a yell, not of fear, but joy, “Woooooooooo!”

My rational mind told me that I should feel fear watching the ground rush up at me at over a hundred miles an hour. But I was literally strapped to Drake’s body, and I trusted him.

The roar of the wind in my ears made hearing, or talking, impossible so I just concentrated on the sensation of plunging downward in free fall as long as I could, because I knew it would be short lived.

After about a minute, the chute deployed, there was a jerk as our descent was slowed and suddenly the roar of the wind was gone, and I could hear Drake’s voice again. “Well?”

“That was amazing!” I exclaimed.

“I know this part is slower, but look.” He pointed and I turned my head to take in the view. The lush green mixed with some reds and even purple of the landscape below, the sparkling blue of the ocean off to our left, it was breathtaking.

“Wow.” I breathed out, “It’s beautiful.”

We had slowed from about a hundred twenty miles per hour to closer to seventeen, and it felt like we were floating. It was surprisingly peaceful, drifting through the blue sky with Drake.

“Wanna spin?” He asked.

“What? Yes!”

He pulled on the reins, and we spun. I yelped and laughed out loud. “Here, you can steer if you want to.” He handed me the controls.

I took the reins and pulled on them experimentally, learning how to steer us as we glided through the air. “This is so much fun!” I gushed.

“Look over there.” He pointed, “That’s the Stormholt National Forest. And if you’ll notice the lake right on the edge…there….that’s Lake Kenna, and over there…” He continued to point out the sights as we drifted lazily toward the ground.

Five minutes later we hit the ground with a thump, and I slid to the ground like I was taking home plate, just like Drake told me to as he gave instructions about the landing.

By the time we were unhooked from everything, Hank and Marco were there. “So, was it fun?” Hank asked.

“Oh my god, yes! I loved it! I definitely want to do that again!” I grabbed Hank into a spontaneous hug.

“Anytime.” Hank laughed, returning the hug. “Any friend of Drake’s is always welcome here.”

“Yeah, friend.” Marco snorted.

Drake rolled his eyes, “Give it a rest, Rossi.”

I stepped into Marco’s personal space and tipped my head up to look right in his eyes. I drew my bottom lip in between my teeth and fluttered my eyelashes as I leaned in, putting a hand on his chest and my lips close to ear to whisper, “Jealous?”

That wiped the smile right off his face, “I…that….shit!” His eyes darted to Drake then back to me as I stepped away with a cocky smile on my lips. He swallowed loudly enough for me to hear it.

Drake shook his head at Marco’s discomposure in amusement. “Brooks, it’s not nice to tease the defenseless.”

“But it’s fun.” I told him.

“Why don’t you two go ahead and head out?” Hank asked.

“I haven’t repacked the chute.” Drake protested.

“That’s ok, Marco and I can do that. Go. Take this girl out to dinner or something. She doesn’t want to watch you repack the chute.”

“Alright then.” Drake nodded, “Thanks for fitting us in on a day’s notice.”

“Ah, it was nothing. Glad to do it.” The older man drew Drake into a quick hug then turned to give me one as well, “It was nice meeting you, hope to see you around again sometime.”

“Thanks Hank.” I returned his embrace then turned and threw a mischievous smile at Marco, “Bye Marco.”

I took Drake’s hand, threading my fingers through his and we headed back to the hanger. As we passed Marco, Drake asked him, “You gonna be ok there, buddy?”

“Fuck you Walker, I’m fine.” His eyes flicked to me and he flushed then he looked back at Drake and shook his head with a smile, “You’re in so much trouble, dude.”

Drake chuckled softly, “You don’t know the half of it.”

I bumped him gently with my hip as we walked, “Are you saying I’m trouble?”

“Oh, you are definitely trouble.”

“But the good kind of trouble, right?”

“God, yes.” He said as he stopped next to his bike and pulled me into him. I went pretty damn willingly into his arms. Not gonna lie, I was beyond ready to be kissed.

“Today was amazing.” I told him.

“You’re amazing.” He replied just before he brought his lips down and kissed me, finally. He kissed me long and slow and deep and it kind of made me go weak in the knees. Then he pulled away and thrust a helmet at me. “Come on, let’s go get some dinner.”

#savage love #angelasscribbles #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #agent riley brooks #captain drake walker #liam rys #drake walker #choices #trr #drake x mc #the royal romance fanfic #liam x mc #the royal romance #choices stories you play

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rommahh · 4 years ago

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I Carry It In My Heart

Word count: 4.7k

I thank everyone who read part one, it meant so much to me to see the love it got. Heres part two, please comment, like reblog, whatever I just wanna hear your thoughts! I also plan on making smaller blurbs of this universe with fratrry. I have plans for a graduation, wedding, babies, and other random blurbs of their lives. Much love, R.

Part One

Y/N’s drive home was quiet. She drove the whole six hours just listening to her thoughts. Thinking about the future of a relationship she had so much hope for. She wanted this relationship so much and seeing Harry before leaving campus reassured her that maybe just maybe, Harry wanted what she wanted too.

Six hours went by and Y/N finally arrived home. She lived on a very secluded farm with her mom, dad, grandparents, uncles/aunts, and cousins. Everyone lived along the property making the family tight knit. She was scared to reveal to her family that she wasn't with Harry anymore. He grew to be a very important part of the family. Everyone saw how beautiful Harry and Y/N’s relationship was. They could see how close they were and how they just shared a really unique connection with each other.

Getting out of her car, Y/N took a moment to stretch her legs before she was bombarded by her family. Hands were pulling her into hugs, kisses were being planted on her cheek- she never felt more loved in her life. She didn't realize she was crying until her mom held her face between her hands wiping the free flowing tears from the young girl's face. The family left the mother and daughter alone to reconnect.

“What is wrong with my baby?” Her mother cradled her face as she sobs.

“Mommy, we broke up. Me and Harry broke up and- and i'm exhausted from exams, and i'm so hungry!” Y/N’s hysterics caused her mom to chuckle. She helped grab Y/N’s belongings from the trunk and then led the girl into the house. As Y/N wiped the tears from her face she hiccuped trying to catch her breath.

With her bags in her room, Y/N sat at the kitchen table as her mom placed a bowl of chilli in front of her. Her mom sat beside her rubbing her back encouraging her to eat and regain some energy.

“Tell me what happened hon?”

“We got in a really bad fight after he kissed another girl. He basically said that I was overreacting. I tried to tell him that my reaction was merely based on how I feel about our future relationship. He laughed at me and said he wasn't thinking about the future of our relationship. Tha-” She choked up again “-that this wasn't a future he wanted.” Y/N sniffled into her food as her mom guided food into her mouth.

“It's ok hon. Let me tell you something, you and Harry will be fine. It may seem like this is the end but it's not. You will get through this because you guys were made for each other. From the way that you guys know each other's thoughts to the way that you both can read each other with no problem- you two were meant to be. Me and your pa went through our own issues but look at us now. We are solid. Baby, you two will be solid.” Y/N’s mom smoothed the hair on her daughter's head smiling at the young girl.

Y/N thought about her mothers words. Hearing her mom say those things about her relationship made her feel a little better. Her mother kissed her on the forehead and told her to get to bed and get some rest.

Y/N walked into her room and immediately her eyes were drawn to the gift Harry got her. She didn't remember bringing it in her room but there it sat in all of its glory. The gold wrapping paper on the box contrasted with the dark wood of her dresser. The envelope adorned with Harry's name written in cursive.

She was tempted to open the gift but at the same time she couldn't bring herself to even touch the gift. She kept thinking about the moment she shared with Harry in the parking lot. How he made time to see her before she left. How he found time to get her a gift and bring it to her. She grabbed the gift, shoving it into the top drawer of the dresser.

As Y/N lied in her bed that night, wrapped in a blanket Harry bought her, she couldn't run her mind off. She wanted to be with Harry but she was scared of his lack of commitment. She doesn't understand his sudden lack of commitment. She mentioned marrying him in the future and he freaked out on her. It hurt to know that in a quick second, he could change his mind.

Closing her eyes she went to sleep thinking about her brown haired, green eyed boy whose heart she carries with her at all times.

Y/N felt better to be back home on the farm. This semester had mentally drained her to the point where she felt like she had nothing within herself to give. She sat in the barn behind the house watching the chickens run around as she remembered the first time Harry visited the farm.

“No Harry, you just grab them from underneath. Like cup your hands and grab!” Y/N hollered to her boyfriend as he chased chickens around trying to grab them. He couldnt get his hands on a chicken but hearing his girlfriend laughing made it all worth it. Here he was dressed in overalls while chasing chickens.

“Bubs, I cant get one.” He pouted walking back over to Y/N.

“You don't have the talent I have.” She walked over to a resting chicken and grabbed it with ease. Tucking the chicken under her arm, she scratched the top of the chicken's head and walked over to where Harry was standing in shock.

“You are something else!” She set the chicken down, watching it run away. Harry grabbed her arm, twirling her around to face him. She placed her arms atop his shoulders, fingers playing with the small curls of his head. His arms wrapped around her waist squeezing her close to him.

It was a beautiful morning on the farm. Fall break on full blast and instead of Harry going back home, he just decided to come see where his girlfriend lives. They were sophomores now, entering almost a year of dating. This had been one the best almost years of their lives.

Harry placed a gentle kiss on her plush lips. She smiled, kissing him back.

“I love you Harry.” She said, staring at his eyes. His eyes opened wide. He stepped back from her and then started jumping up and down out of happiness. He threw her over his shoulder and started running through the blades of grass like the chickens he was trying to catch earlier. Setting her down on her feet she giggled at his antics.

“I cant believe you just said that. Im so fucking in love with you. So in love.” He said squishing her cheeks together, puckering her lips and smacking a wet kiss on her mouth.

“Ew Harry gross.” she giggled as he continued to place wet slobbery kisses over her face.

Y/N was so happy to bring Harry home. She wanted to show her family this new boy that had completely captivated her heart. He fit in with her family perfectly, making jokes, helping with dinner, playing with the little ones. He was family.

Walking into the house, she was greeted with the familiar smell of her grandma's famous peach crumble. She went into the kitchen sitting at one the stools watching her grandmother whip around the kitchen baking a slew of desserts.

“Hey lovebug, you go out and see your chickies?” Her grandmother asked, never losing focus of what she was doing.

“I did, they are all growing up so quick.” Y/N laid her head down on the table staring out of the window. Head fuzzy with anxiety and muddled thoughts.

“What happened to Harry?” Y/N’s head popped off of the table as she looked at her grandmother in confusion.

“How did you know something was up?”

“You're my grandbaby, I know everything about you. You've also been moping around my house so I knew something had happened.” She took a bowl down from the cabinets scooping a hot piece of peach crumble in the bowl and placed it in front of Y/N.

“Yeah, me and Harry split up. We just had a bad fight that put us in a weird place. He cheated on me.” She scooped crumble into her mouth trying to distract herself from her sadness.

“Oh love bug. I'm really sorry about that. Did you guys talk at all?” Placing a pie in the oven, her grandmother took a seat next to Y/N stealing a bite of crumble.

“He actually said goodbye to me before I came home. He gave me a Christmas gift too. I don't know, we didn't really say much. I miss him though. He was drunk when he cheated on me, which isn't an excuse but I think he was taken advantage of. I'm not mad about him cheating on me. I was mad at how he reacted to me. Like I was in the wrong for thinking about our relationship in the long run.”

“I understand. Can I be honest with you?” Crumble gone now, Y/N turned her body to face her grandmother. She shook her head to say yes. “You and Harry will be ok. It feels like the end right now but it isn't. It really isn't. I watched you two all of that one break and I saw a resilient couple who were going to go so far. This bump in the road can be fixed. Baby that boy looks at you like you are the whole universe.” You blushed at her words.

“What do I do then?”

“Well, I think you guys should enjoy this break. Take the time to reflect on what your relationship was and what it could be. Harrys going to go home and be surrounded by family as you are now, just let yourself enjoy that time. When he comes back for school, meet up again and talk. You both are adults- you know what to do.” You took in your grandmother's words. She always knew what to say.

“Why is it that you and mom always give me advice over food?” You laughed as she winked at you kissing you on the cheek.

“Food always makes people listen.”

When Wednesday finally arrived, Harry couldn't have been happier to go home. He had been on campus all alone and just feeling like shit. Maybe it was karma for how he treated Y/N. His heart felt hollow and even though he saw her before she left campus, he knew they still weren't ok. He wanted nothing more than to just be ok with his girl. The girl who makes him feel happiest on his darkest days. He doesn't understand how he would have ruined something so perfect.

At his gate at the airport, Harry sat staring at his phone waiting for something. He didn't know what he was waiting for. He didn't deserve anything, especially because of how bad he messed up. He didn't plan on seeing Y/N last friday before she left but he didn't want to go home without seeing her face. He also spent all night writing her a letter that laid down his thoughts. He also wanted to give her a gift. He bought it at the beginning of the semester back home. He knew it was perfect for her the second he saw it.

“Welcome to British Airways, we are now boarding all priority passengers.”

Harry stood up collecting his carry on and started walking to the line forming in front of the gate. He checked his phone again. Nothing.

As the line moved forward. He checked again. Nothing.

He scanned his ticket. Checked again. Nothing.

Situating himself in his seat on the airplane, Harry didn't even bother checking his phone knowing nothing was there. He clicked his seatbelt over his lap and opened the window beside him to look outside.

His phone buzzing pulled him out of his thoughts. His breath hitched, heart lurching. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he turned the screen on.

To: Harry, from: Bubs<3

Have a safe flight Harry

Harry's eyes welled with tears.

To: Bubs<3, from: Harry

Thank you, love. It means a lot.

To: Harry, from: Bubs<3

I miss you Harry

A few of those tears tipped over the edge now rolling down his face.

To: Bubs<3, from: Harry

I miss you so much baby

And that was it. But that was all Harry needed to feel something again.

Y/N didn't know what compelled her to text Harry. She knows her grandmother told her to take some time but she just wanted to reach out to him. She wanted him to know that she was still here. She was still thinking of him and still wanted this. Whatever ‘this’ was.

Christmas eve came quickly, Y/N’s house filled with family members, food, and little children running around wreaking havoc. Y/N was sitting in her room staring at the drawer where the gift from Harry hid. She was scared to open it. Pushing that fear to the side, she walked over the drawer opening it and grabbing the box and envelope. She put the gift in her purse before grabbing her keys. She couldn't open the gift here. She needed to go somewhere quiet.

She said a quick goodbye to her parents and left the house in a hurry. She found herself parked at a small store's parking lot a few miles away from her house. She kept the car on for the heat but turned off the christmas tunes she had playing low in the background.

She opened her purse to pull the envelope out. Carefully ripping the top of the envelope she pulled out a stack of items. In the envelope were four photos and a handwritten letter. She saved the letter for last.

The first photo was of Harry and Y/N sitting on a bean bag in the library. Harry had the camera outstretched above their heads, Y/N with her face buried in a text book. This was taken in their first year during their first exam week. They were not exclusive yet but their friends knew how close they were- there was no one coming between the two of them. Y/N had been so stressed that week so Harry invited her to the library to eat lunch and study together. He helped her through some science homework which helped dramatically on her exam.

The second image was of Harry and Y/N at their favorite restaurant off campus. It was taken during their sophomore year during their one year anniversary. It was the week before spring break and they had just finished a round of midterms. Harry surprised her with a trip to her favorite restaurant. The waiter offered to take the picture because of how adorable the couple looked. In the picture they were holding hands, smiling wide to the camera. Y/N eyes welled up at how happy they looked together.

The third pic was taken during an event on campus at the end of their freshman year. It was a piece and love festival where different clubs hosted fun activities in hopes of promoting unity on campus. In the picture, Harry and Y/N were holding up braided string bracelets with beads that said their partners name. They always wore those bracelets after that day. Y/N looked down at the slightly faded bracelet on her wrist. Harrys name on her wrist reminding her that he is always with her no matter what. Cheesy as it may be but the cheap string with plastic was something she would never part with.

The last picture was taken on Y/N’s farm. It was by the barn where Harry and Y/N were chasing chickens. It was taken from a high angle from afar. Harry had her on his shoulder and they were both visibly laughing. They had matching overalls with embroidery done by Y/N's aunt. On the back of the picture, Y/N could recognize Harry's handwriting as it said, “Your Grandma emailed me this picture when we got back to campus. She said that she couldn't help but take the picture when she saw how happy you looked.” Y/N laughed at his sloppy handwriting and her grandmother's words.

The last piece of the envelope was the letter. Y/N slowly unraveled the folded paper, smoothing out the crinkles. Taking a deep breath she began reading.

Y/N,

In my eyes, our future is filled with love. I see us buying a small house in your home town because I know you love home. I know you also said you may want to live in a city so if our plans were to change, I could see us living in a small apartment, decorated by you of course, with bookshelves that towered to the ceiling and many plush blankets littering the rooms. I see us working hard during the day and enjoying each other during the evening when we come home. I see bubble baths and fun new dinner recipes. I see me bringing you flowers to brighten your day from a long day of work. I see us travelling to all of the places you have pinned on your “for the future” pinterest board. I see us having a small wedding, my family, your family, some friends and that's it. I'd let you do whatever you like for the wedding because I want to see you happy.

I see little ones. Direct copies of you and me running around in the backyard as we try chasing them and tickling them. I see bedtime stories and fun days at the park. Picnics in the meadow and swimming in the lake. Catching chickens and rough housing with the goats. Pasta sauce around the mouth after a good meal. Frozen yogurt with all of the toppings. I see everything with you. There's not a moment where I don't see us together. I think about our graduation and where we will be after graduation.

I see a future with you and I was an ass to say otherwise. You are everything to me. I should be doing more for our relationship like I used to. I want to take you out on more dates and shower you in gifts because you deserve it. I love you so much. Please don't give up on me and all of the memories we've created. I want it all with you.

School has been hurting me pretty bad and I took it out on you. I cheated on you because I was too drunk to think properly. I hurt the only person whose opinion I hold higher than anyone else's. We built a beautiful relationship of trust and boundaries and I ruined it for no reason. I want to do better. Please let me show you that I can do better.

I found this poem that reminded me of you. I know you like poems and this poem speaks for me wholly.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart) i am never without it (anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

Have a lovely break and I hope to be able to see you after.

Love Harry.

His letter left the girl speechless. He said everything she wanted to hear. Looking at her phone she checked the time.

7:36 pm

Its about 12 am in london.

Without a second thought she opened Harry's facetime profile and pressed the call button.

Ring. Ring. Ri-

“Love? Are you alright? Did something happen?” Harry was quick to answer, looking half awake and flustered. Y/N broke down in tears immediately. “Y/N are you ok, baby?”

“Harry.” She wailed. It was embarrassing but all of the pent emotion she was holding in finally breached. She couldn't stop crying. Harry sat up from his laying down position in bed holding the phone closer to his face to inspect his girl.

“It's ok bubs, whatever it is, it's ok. I promise it's ok.” Harry tries consoling the girl. Her tears reduced to small sniffles.

“I read your letter Harry. It's beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I want it all with you too. I've always wanted it with you. Since the day we met Harry.” He let out a watery laugh so overwhelmed with emotions. She wiped her face of tears looking back at the letter next to her.

“Y/N I love you so much. I do. I know I'm not that good at expressing my emotions but I do want a future with you. I'm hurting knowing I hurt the best thing that's ever happened to me.” His tears continued to flow freely.

“It's ok Harry. I'm not mad anymore. I'm not hurt either I promise. I think I was more upset that we were done. I don't want us to be done. I really don't.”

“I don't want us to be done either. I really want to marry you. Maybe not right now but in time I wanna get married.” He paused, wiping his face. “I wanna get married on your farm, maybe put the chickies in little tuxedos.” She giggled at his proposition.

“They would hate you even more if you did that.” They shared a laugh and then some silence. “I guess it's technically Christmas over there huh? Well Merry Christmas H.”

“It is christmas isn't it? Merry Christmas bubs. Did you open the box?” She grabbed the box next to her to show Harry shaking her head. She unwrapped the paper and revealed a box with a logo she wasn't familiar with.

“What's this?” He encouraged her to keep opening the gift. Lifting the top of the box she let out a loud gasp upon seeing a beautiful gold bracelet sitting on a satin pillow. She placed her phone on the phone stand on her dashboard so she could have both hands to look at the bracelet. The bracelet was gold and thin with a nameplate in the middle. Engraved on the nameplate was Harry's name.

“You went silent on me...Do you like it?” Y/N couldn't stop looking at the bracelet in her hand.

“Harry...It's gorgeous. It's so gorgeous.” She whispered. She slid the perfectly fit bracelet on her hand watching it fall in front of her handmade bracelet. The two bracelets adorned her wrist perfectly. “I love you so much H.”

“I love you too, I do. I can't wait to see you in person and talk.” He replies with his heart clenching in a good way, watching his girl smile happily at her gift.

“Om bubby, I'll let you go to sleep. I love you, spend time with your family and then come back to me as the same Harry I fell in love with.” He smiled, whispering goodnight and hanging up.

Going home that night, Y/N’s family watched her come back into the house walking lighter on her feet and looking happier than she did when she came home from school. She showed her bracelet off to her parents as her grandmother made her a plate of food. She smiled at everyone and talked the whole night. Her grandmother watched from afar feeling her heart fill with joy at her granddaughter's happiness.

As Christmas break went on Harry and Y/N continued to keep their relationship moving slowly. Only calling each other once a day and giving each the much needed space to heal with their respective family. Y/N facetimed him on christmas giving him a youtuber esq. Haul of all of her gifts while he laughed at her silliness. He did the same thing with half the enthusiasm.

As move in day approached, Y/N felt herself becoming worried about her relationship. She worried that when she saw Harry, their relationship would slowly deteriorate. Little did she know that she had no reason to be so afraid. Harry was on his flight back to school ready to hug and hold his girl. He was ready to reunite and be the couple they used to be. He was ready to be a better partner for his girl.

“Alright girly, looks like we got everything squished in your car. Are you sure you've got everything?” Y/N’s mom asked sarcastically. Y/N huffed shoving another bag in the passenger seat.

“Yup that should be it.”

“Ok, well you give me a hug and get going.” Y/N rushed into her mom's arms. Her mom kissed her on the forehead and left Y/N and her grandmother to talk on their own.

“Bye grandma, i'm going to miss you.” Her grandmother held her arms tight.

“You get back to campus and see that boy ok? You go and be in love. You too are old enough to know what you want and this relationship is something you obviously both want.”

Kissing her grandma goodbye, she got in her car and started her drive back to school.

It only took Y/N one trip from her car to her dorm to unload all of her belongings. She was able to snag one of the big trolleys to push her things inside. She watched as friends reunited, she even said hi to a few of her friends but her mind was set on one person. She grabbed her wallet and phone from her dorm and left quickly on a journey to get to Harry’s frat.

The air was cool but Y/N felt warm from how quickly she was booking it to Harry. Harry, just like Y/N, immediately left his room to see Y/N. Having not seen her in a month and some of exam week- he couldn't wait to see her. Harry saw Y/N’s familiar face walking down the sidewalk of his frat and he stopped in his tracks. She smiled her bright, beautiful smile before running over to where he stood. Her arms hooked around his neck as his arms adjusted around her waist. He stumbled a bit from the force of her hug but stood his ground nonetheless.

She held him tight, legs bound around his waist, a few stray tears falling from her eyes. He held her just as tightly, hands tightly holding her thighs and back.

“Hi bubby.” She said in his ear, face burrowed in his neck. He set her down and reached for her face.

‘Hi baby.” She blushed at his nickname. They looked into each other's eyes and time froze like it always did between them. Y/N broke theri moment by pulling his face to hers. They kissed like they hadnt kissed in years. To them the time they spent away from each other felt like years. Their lips fit together like puzzle pieces. Pulling apart, Harry stared down at his heart, tears begging to be free. He opened his mouth to say something and she stopped him.

“It's ok Harry. My baby, it's ok. We are ok.”

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

Taglist: marlananicole17

#harry styles x reader #frat!harry #i carry your heart #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #college!harry #harry styles smut #fratrry #boyfriend!harry

323 notes · View notes

byuntrash101 · 4 years ago

Text

PARAPHILIA - Part 1

Pairing: Dom!Baekhyun x You

Genre: EstablishedRelationship!AU, slice of life, smuttt

Tags: strong dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, rough sex, degradation, name calling (slut is used a lot), deepthroat, body writing, toys and more~~

Raiting: +18 (more like 21+ 🤪)

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: Apparantly, the new intern has a crush on you. And it's making your boyfriend Baekhyun jealous... Very jealous...

A/N: First chapter💃!! I’m excited to show you this project! Never hesitate to give me feedback my asks are always open and seeing your reactions make me SO happy💖! I hope you’ll enjoy!! -Cat😽

Tag list: @lovebuginlove @ohh-baekhyun @bobohumyonlyboo @smolbeanmika @making-me-blush @wooya1224 @yixing-jaehyun @f4ncyvelvet @lalalala-lav @deligxt @xofanfics @byunsugar @dixnysustae @to-all-the-stories-i-love @artisticcgroove @myexoobsession @geniusloey

Tell me if you want to be added/removed

PARAPHILIA masterlist | General masterlist

Paraphilia #1 : SADISM, Inflicting pain to others.

W R O N G F E E L S R I G H T

"Aaaah" you say as you feel the hot tea on your tongue. It's jasmine green tea, your favorite. You sit there in the dining room enjoying the warm sun of the afternoon. It's so relaxing, so nice after a stressful week of work. The new intern is very nice, but god is he a handful. He's just always full of energy but at least he is willing and wants to learn properly. But forming him is quite tiring. So enjoying this quiet time here is nice.

"Babe can you come over here?" you hear the voice of your boyfriend resonate from upstairs. You sigh and frown, annoyed. But you still decide to go see him.

He's in his office, probably playing the piano or practicing his singing skills. He was in there since early morning. You never questioned his wacky sleep schedule. Like he always says: "inspiration doesn't wait". You knew that from the beginning... He's an artist.

You push open the door and he's there on his computer frowning. What's wrong? You ask yourself as you pick up right away that something is off. You walk closer and see he's on your Facebook profile.

"Who's that?" he asks without a glance to you, pointing a finger to the picture of a recently added friend.

"It's Taeyong the new intern, I told you about him" you say in a chuckle. So that's what's wrong with him. He's jealous, you think smiling.

"How do you find him?" he still doesn't look at you.

"Huh? I mean he is pretty smart which makes things easier, but overall, he has a lot to learn it's only normal when you are fresh out of school. I mean when I started, I-" but Baekhyun interrupts you.

"I don't mean it like this! Do you think he’s... attractive?" you can't help but laugh at the ridiculous question. Finally, Baekhyun looks at you but it's only to shoot you a death glare. You stop and bite your lips trying not to laugh again.

"I mean... Of course I can't say he's ugly but I-" Before you can continue your boyfriend rips the black bob off his head and throws it on the desk. He immediately brushes back his blond hair, running his fingers through it. You flinch. Shit, he's actually upset about this.

"What about this?" he switches to another tab on the computer. This time it's your Instagram page. He clicks on the most recent post. It's a selfie you posted last week when you went out with Baekhyun, you liked your makeup that day and thought it was instagramable.

"What about it?" You genuinely ask. Your boyfriend sighs, frustrated.

"TYdragon95, is it his username?" Baekhyun asks, his tone has changed from cold to angered, you swiftly look at him, he's clenching his jaw.

"Yes I suppose so, he was born in 1995, so yeah probably..."

"Yeah of course it's him... he liked every single one of your pictures..."

Baekhyun proceeds to scroll to the other photos and it's true. His username is under every single one of them.

"Well, no, he didn't like the pictures where we are together..." he says in a cynical tone. You stand there next to him, silent, what could you possibly reply? Baekhyun chuckles coldly.

"He's probably, right now imagining you under him, his hand in his pants..." he whistles between greeted teeth. You laugh nervously.

"Hyunie, don't be stupid... he's just a guy I work with" you say fidgeting with your fingers. You know this mood. You know how angry your boyfriend can get.

"Really? Huh?" Baekhyun says, finally getting up from his chair. He stands right in front of you, only a couple centimeters (1in) separate the both of you. You are intimidated. He's so much taller than you...

"Baekhyun, please" you say in a pleading tone while taking a step back. Baekhyun steps closer.

"Baby girl do you like him?" he says in a low husky voice, sending shivers down your spine. Once again, you step back and he steps closer. You step back again, and he follows you, making you backup against the cold wall of his office, almost falling on the drums on your left.

"Baekhyun don't be ridiculous... I-"

"FUCKING ANSWER ME!!!" he yells throwing his palm on the wall next to your face. Your breath is hitching your throat.

"No Babe! Of course, not. I only love you" you say your voice trembling.

"Is this true?" his tone is somewhat softer. He leans in, inching his face close to yours.

"Yes..." you say softly, almost whispering.

"Maybe I have to remind you who you belong to"

You feel goosebumps in the nape of your neck. You know exactly what he means...

"Go in the room and wait for me there" with that he removes his hand and you quickly leave the room without daring looking at him. Without any detours you go straight to your room and sit on the king-sized bed.

You feel a familiar tingly feeling rise in your lower stomach. You don't even have time to think that your hand travels on its own to your crotch. As soon as your fingers press on your core the door slams open.

Baekhyun chuckles coldly, looking you up and down.

"You little slut you couldn't even wait for me, could you?" he walks quickly to you and yanks hard on your arm to make you stand. You wince in pain.

"What do you say?"

"I'm sorry daddy." You whimper. Suddenly he flips you over and makes you lay over his lap with your butt up. Without much consideration he roughly pulls up your t-shirt dress. His hand rests delicately over your clothed bottom as you are still wearing your baby blue laced panties. Gently, he strokes your butt cheeks with his thumb.

"Baby girl, you need a little reminder that you belong to daddy and daddy only. So, I have to punish you, you understand that, right?" he says as he slowly pulls down your lace panties. You simply nod quietly.

"So, baby girl I'm going to spank you 15 times and you will say thank you to each one of them. Understood?"

"Yes daddy" you say, already bracing for impact.

You feel his cold hand lift up from your skin. Then you hear the loud noise. Full force spanking your tiny ass. Lastly, you feel the pain, make you scream at the very first strike. It just started but already you feel the tingly feeling in your lower stomach grow.

"I didn't hear you baby"

"Thank you, daddy." You whimper.

"Good girl" Right away he spanks you again. You scream again, already your butt is burning. You can't help but to moan in between each scream. You feel each nerve of your sensitive skin.

"Thank you, daddy"

Baekhyun spanks again until he reaches 15. Your ass is raw, the pain feels so good, you bite your bottom lip trying to refrain from begging him to fuck you right now. Because you know daddy doesn't like being told what to do, especially when he's angry.

He puts you back up and makes you sit up on the bed. He stands in front of you as he unbuckles his belt.

"Now you're gonna suck daddy off, to make up to him" right there he rips out his fat cock in front of your very eyes. You can't help but gasp and the beautiful sight. He was so hard, precum pearling at the tip. It made your mouth water in anticipation.

You look at him with hungry eyes and just nod while opening wide. Baekhyun smirks.

"Good girl" he says, pinching your nose and slowly pushing himself inside your tiny mouth. He doesn't stop at the first resistance, instead he pushes harder, making his way past the back of your throat. You feel the burn with each inch as he grunts loudly. You can't breathe anymore, not through your nose and certainly not through your mouth.

Without a warning Baekhyun starts to rapidly pump himself in and out of your mouth making your eyes water. You feel tears roll down your cheeks as you try to gasp for air. Baekhyun doesn't stop and skull fucks you even deeper, tearing your throat apart. You try to push him away, but he doesn't budge. He just moans louder using your face as his personal fuck toy.

Finally, he pulls out allowing you to breathe. You loudly gasp for air. Coughing, you look up at your boyfriend. He still looks pissed.

"Fuck babe, that little slut mouth of yours is fitted for my cock, isn't it?" he says trying to catch his breath pushing his blond hair back. You cough still trying to pull yourself together.

Without warning, Baekhyun leans in and his hands reach for the collar of your dress with one powerful and swift move he rips it off your body leaving you in your baby blue lace bra only.

"Take that off for me" he says pointing at the bra as he passes his oversized hoodie over his head. You look in awe at the muscles of his back and abs moving to mesmerize you. He looks so good, he's lightly sweating from pleasuring himself with your mouth. He's stark naked in front of you, you gulp loudly, anticipating but also fearing what's to come.

"Lay there" he commands pointing a finger to the bed, you do as you're told and lay with your arms resting to your sides. Baekhyun then gets up and walks to the dresser. He opens the fourth drawer. You know what he stores in this drawer, you squirm in apprehension.

When he turns back to you, he's holding a red marker and two, no, three nipple clamps.

"Baby girl, you know you've been bad, right?" You look at him with scared eyes but nod. He sits next to you.

"This one is for allowing another man to think about you" he says as he clips the clamp on one of your nipples. You bite your lip at the delicious pinching sensation.

"This one is for daring to even say his name in front of me" he places the second clamp on your other nipple. You gasp. It feels so good, your watery eyes fill up with tears again.

"And this one is for reminding you who owns you" he places the last one on your untouched but very anticipating clit. This time you can't help but to scream and grip the sheets as the pain spreads through your core. Baekhyun looks down at you with a satisfied smirk.

"Hmmm baby, you look so pathetic squirming like that." He leans over you. "Does it hurt, baby?" he purrs as a cold smile spreads on his lips. You looked up at him, pouting and eyebrows knitted together and nod.

"Baby girl, it's only fair for you to be treated this way because you were very bad you understand, right?"

You nod, the tears finally streaming down your face. Baekhyun smiles in satisfaction again, he loves to see you in this state, wrapped around his fingers. He controls you, he owns you.

Then, he takes the red sharpie out. He takes off the cap and writes on your body, first right under your collarbones, then on your lower stomach and finally on your face.

"Go ahead and get up to go see how beautiful you look."

You get up and wince in pain again as the gravity pulls on the clamps. You walk up to the full length mirror. Baekhyun wrote "cocksleeve" across your chest, "my cunt" right over your pussy and finally "daddy's slut" on each of your cheeks.

"Aren't you pretty?" You turn back to him.

"Yes, thank you daddy" you meekly answer.

You want to walk back to him, but he puts his hand up and stops you.

"Not so fast, baby girl. The punishment isn't over yet. You are not allowed to walk back to me... Get on all fours and crawl to me like the bitch that you are"

You feel the humiliation rush to your cheeks and spread to your body. But you obey anyway, you do as you're told. Your knees against the cold hard wood you approach your sadistic boyfriend.

"Good girl, now. Crouch and tell daddy how sorry you are" You feel the tears well up again.

"Daddy..." you start with your voice trembling, avoiding his eyes. "I'm sorry. I will never upset you again."

Silence follows, you lift your head to look up at him and without a warning he slaps you across the face, almost making you fall. You rub your cheek.

"Gotta have to do better than that" he replies with the harshest tone. Now you are just sobbing.

"This little slut is sorry daddy. She doesn't deserve a daddy as perfect as you. I am nothing more than your personal fuck toy and a mere toy should only serve her daddy and no other men should be allowed to lay eyes on it. Daddy I'm sorry for being a dirty whore I will make it up to you I promise."

Baekhyun chuckles, visibly satisfied to see you dragging yourself down like this. You can't help but to let your eyes trail down his perfect body to his cock... He is harder than ever.

"That's right baby you are my pathetic little slut" he says gently stroking your still burning cheek.

"You know what baby? Daddy wants you to hurt as much as you hurt him by allowing this man in your life." He harshly grabs your face.

"So, you're going to stand up and you're going to show daddy how your pretty little face twists in pain" he says with a large, wicked smile.

You stand up.

"Jump, lemme see the clamps bounce."

You do as you're told and bounce yourself up and down. The weight of the clamp on your clit is unbearable and you just frown deeply in pain.

"Good girl now pull on the clamps on your nipples"

You pull on them harshly, the joyous pain makes you roll your eyes back and you can't help but to let a soft moan escape your lips. Baekhyun reaches down and starts to pump his hand around his big cock. He looks satisfied, nothing arouses him more than seeing you cry like this.

"Twist them"

You moan louder, it's difficult to contain your excitement as you feel your arousal coating your inner thighs.

"Good girl" he says with an evil smirk.

After a while, your body is red all over, complementing even better the matching sharpie.

"Now lay there you slut" Baekhyun says as he gets up the bed. You lay on your back and wait for further instructions.

Baekhyun gets on the bed over you and places himself at your entrance. Rubbing his tip against your slick folds.

"What a pitiful slut that you are getting this wet from being humiliated" he says smirking. And with that he violently pushes himself inside you in one go. You scream in absolute bliss, almost cumming to this one single thrust.

"Fuck, baby" Baekhyun moans.

He starts to move rapidly, you feel the familiar knot in your stomach form. He goes full force right away, making your fringe jump with each powerful thrust.

"Baby what are you?" he pants.

"I'm your slut daddy"

"Good girl" he says, grinding his teeth, rewarding you with more powerful thrusts and more overwhelming pleasure.

"You like daddy's thick cock don't you, slut?"

"Yes, I love your big cock daddy, it feels so good in my tiny cunt" You whine, feeling the knot getting tighter. The three nipple clamps jumping all over the place as Baekhyun fucks you deep and hard.

"No one can make you feel good like daddy, do you understand?" he says struggling, moaning in between each word.

"Yes only daddy's big cock" you bite your lip trying not to cum as Baekhyun hasn't granted you permission yet.

"Good girl. You are daddy's little slut. Daddy's toy. Daddy's personal cocksleeve. Nothing more. Your only purpose is to pleasure daddy and make him cum with your tight cunt." Baekhyun grunts, pushing himself deep and fast inside you.

The dirty talk is too much for you, you feel so good and the humiliation of being reduced to a mere object sends you over the edge. You scream and moan as your legs shake into an uncontrollable and divine orgasm, your sensitive little pussy deseperately twitching around Baekhyun's thick cock.

Your high hasn't even worn out yet that you feel Baekhyun's not-so-delicate hand slap your face. The burn in your cheek makes your eyes roll back as the setlling pleasure of your orgasm makes your mind go blank.

"I'm sorry daddy" you say half moaning, half sobbing, gagging on his slender digits.

"You slut, you came without daddy" he shoves his long fingers deep inside your throat. You instinctively suck on them as tears run down your cheeks again.

"You're such a bad girl" Baekhyun says, whipping his fingers out of your mouth to immediately pull harshly on your hair. You scream in both overwhelming pain and unbearable pleasure.

"Daddy I'm sorry" you say again, moaning as Baekhyun keeps on pounding into you, still pumping his fat cock in and out of you at an alarming speed. Stretching your tiny pussy beyond repair.

"Shut the fuck up slut" Baekhyun says as he repeatedly slaps you in the face, smudging the sharpie over with your tears. He picks up the pace again. Going even faster, destroying your pussy in the process. You moan in pleasure, feeling the knot tightening again.

"Daddy please slow down I'm going to cum again" you sob.

"I said shut up" he says clapping his hand over your mouth muffling your moans. Baekhyun has a really hard time containing himself. He feels like he's going to burst any second. As soon as he removes his hand you speak again.

"Daddy please I'm-" but you can't finish.

"Shut the fuck up I said you fucking bitch" he grunts.

Baekhyun circles his hands around your narrow neck. Pressing his fingers on your throat and your artery to keep the blood from reaching your brain. Finally, you are silenced, you can't speak anymore, not even moan. You can only concentrate on the immense pleasure Baekhyun makes you feel. He grunts loudly pumping in and out of your exhausted tiny cunt. You feel like the knot will come undone at any second now.

"That's it baby! You like when daddy chokes you, right baby? " Baekhyun says clenching his jaw.

Slowly your vision clouds up and you start to feel lightheaded. Like you are high on the most enjoyable and addicting drug: rough sex with your boyfriend Byun Baekhyun.

"I'm going to mark this cunt now baby. I'm going to make it all mine. I'm going to cum inside of you".

Seconds later, you feel thick ropes of cum painting your walls and filling you up as Baekhyun releases himself inside you with powerful thrusts. His hair is stuck to his forehead, he breathes heavily as he wears a relieved expression, his eyebrows deeply furrowed and his jaw lossely hanging open.

As you are about to pass out from too little oxygen, the delicious feeling of being pumped full of hot cum sends you over the edge and you reach the most blissful orgasm ever.

"Yeah that's it baby girl, cum for me, cum for daddy" Baekhyun says with a carnivorous smile.

Your legs shake all over as you see stars from being chocked. This sensation is a whole new level. Never in your life you felt something this intense. It's heaven. You ascended to heaven.

As Baekhyun slows down he releases his brusing grip around your neck, and you can finally gasp for air. As you catch your breath your vision comes back to normal and the high fades away.

Baekhyun collapses next to you, visibly exhausted and satisfied. You scoot closer to him and rest your head on his glistening chest. He starts stroking your hair.

"Baby?" he asks, hesitant.

"Yeah?"

"You... love me more, right? More than him..." he says timidly. You can't help but smile Athos sheepish expression. You look up at him amorously surprised by the the complete change in his attitude. There's no more anger in his eyes as he cutely pouts.

"No babe, I only love you. You are my one and only" you say softly kissing him. He looks back at you smiling before closing his eyes.

PARAPHILIA masterlist | General masterlist

#baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun smut #byun baekhyun #exo smut #baekhyun ff #baekhyun one shot #exo baekhyun #exo fanfic #kpop smut #smut #baekhyun x you #baekhyun x reader #kpop x reader #exo ff #exo imagine #exosnet

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koutarouthighs · 4 years ago

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『 soft cotton 』

S U M M A R Y ― sometimes out of necessity, sometimes out of desire, and other times out of convenience, you end up wearing their clothes.

post type ➺ headcanons fandom ➺ haikyuu!! characters ➺ tsukishima ⧾ iwaizumi ⧾ terushima genre ➺ fluff rating ➺ t+ tags ➺ established relationship; clothes share/swap; nudity if you squint (bare thighs); party environment described but not in explicit detail; word count ➺ 2.8k request ➺ [YES/NO] ↳ request status: OPEN

⤭ tsukishima is confused the first time he finds you in one of his shirts. before his brow wrinkles in that telltale way of frustration, you hold your hands up in surrender and explain that while you were helping his mother in the kitchen, you spilled soy sauce on your white top and she offered to clean it for you while dinner was in the oven. ⤭ after that, you don’t end up giving him that shirt back. it’s an old one, that doesn’t have much sentimental value, but there’s something jarring about tsukki seeing you in his clothes; an out of body experience, almost. he doesn’t understand why anyone else would want to wear anyone else’s things - isn’t that why you buy your own clothes? ⤭ and he has to ask the other guys about it. why does she wear my shirt to bed? why doesn’t she just give it back? and boy, do they have a field day with him. he can be so dense sometimes. doesn’t he see? you wearing that shirt is like you carrying a piece of him with you, even when you’re far away. ⤭ his clothes engulf you, absolutely dwarfing your frame due to the height difference between you. tsukki has always thought of you as tiny, not fragile, but now, seeing you swimming in the fabric that makes up his ratty old tee, he thinks he has begun to understand why you like to wear this shirt over any of your more expensive, more fashionable ones. ⤭ he might be an asshole about it, but tsukki finds ways to gift you more of his clothes indirectly. he accidentally spills soda on your shirt one night when you’re staying in, watching a movie and eating pizza. another day he grabs at the hem of your shirt when you’re walking away and tears a hole in it. somehow, you still haven’t caught on, but he doesn’t ask you for the shirts back anymore. in fact, when you start to return them, he gets almost as irritated as he did when you had to ask for the first one out of pure necessity.

more below the cut ↴

“i’m sorry, kei,” you brush the fabric free of wrinkles as it settles at your mid thigh, covering the shorts that are currently adorning your lower half. you slowly look up at him, a warmth on your cheeks that signals your shyness, “i’ll bring back this one with the others next time i see you, okay?”

a scoff leaves his lips and he’s tugging at your wrist, pulling you forward on the couch until you’re tumbling down to meet him. your knees settle on either side of his waist and he watches as the fabric of the shirt pools around your thighs, “don’t worry about it. your washer makes them smell like old lady anyway. i don’t want them back.”

the way you tilt your head to the side, cocking an eyebrow and dropping your lower lip in confusion never ceases to amuse him. tsukishima reaches up and brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, inhibiting your speech even as you ask, “i-i can wash them over here, if you want, kei.”

he’s shaking his head again, snagging at you until you’re flush with his chest, your face tucked against his neck. it’s not necessarily odd behavior for him to want you so close, however it is strange that he’s not asking for his clothes back. he used to put up so much harder of a fight.

“nah, they were shitty shirts anyway,” he sloughs off the string of words like they were meaningless, however you know the weight they hold. you also know better than to tease him too far, rather to take the prize you’ve silently won through heckling and hard work. the shirt on your shoulders feels warmer, somehow, with the knowledge that you have his blessing to keep it as if it were a gift from him in the first place.

your hands run up the length of his shoulders until you are hooked around him entirely, clinging to his lanky body like a koala. he smells so good, especially after a shower and a shave, which you suspect he’s done earlier today based on the scent of his aftershave still lingering on his neck. you nuzzle your nose further against his jugular, feeling the way his heartbeat pounds the blood in his veins. a low hum escapes your lips without your permission, but tsukishima must not mind your slip of the tongue, but instead is encouraged by it, sneaking his chilly fingertips underneath the hem of the familiar item of clothing until he finds your ribs.

he’s practically lulled you to sleep with the ministrations of his fingerprints mapping out each of your ribs, in tandem with the warmth he provides and the skin-on-skin contact you’ve beseeched with your own hands. your eyelids cannot stay pried open any longer, and so you allow them to shut. somewhere between now and then, tsukki drags a blanket over your shoulders, angling his body to be in a more comfortable position without jostling you too much to the point you’re far too awake to fall back asleep.

just before your mind is consumed by that dark realm of slumber, you hear a low murmur in your ear, “they looked better on you anyway.”

⤭ iwaizumi would not admit it in the beginning of your relationship, but there was something about seeing you in his clothes, namely a t-shirt with his old high school jersey number on it, that just made him feel a certain way that he could not explain. ⤭ it starts with you forgetting to wear a jacket on a date one night, but you don’t ask. iwaizumi sees you shivering and wordlessly removes the bomber jacket from around his shoulders and places it on your own, waiting until you’ve slipped your hands into the sleeves before he grabs for your hand again, interlocking your fingers at the knuckles. ⤭ after that, you start to become more comfortable asking him for his hoodies and even though he gives you a bit of a frustrated comment after you accidentally take one home, when you stop asking for his jackets, he gets confused and concerned. ⤭ with iwaizumi’s job, he gets a lot of free merchandise from the team(s) he works with. and by proxy, you get a lot of t-shirts and hoodies and other items passed down to you because he would accumulate too many things otherwise. ⤭ you refuse to wear anything the first time, though. because without iwa wearing it around the house at least once, it won’t smell like him. he thought it was weird at first, but eventually you started noticing more clothes piling in on your side of the dresser that you’d seen him wearing a few times. and then, when he sees you step out of the bathroom after your shower with that team japan long sleeve shirt on, if you catch him quickly enough, you’ll notice a small, fleeting smile on his lips.

﹢

“hajime?” your call comes from the kitchen, and iwaizumi can hardly hear you from his place in the bathroom, showering after a long saturday of practice games. he rubs the towel against the top of his head, drying his hair before responding, “yeah, just a minute, babe!”

when he steps into the kitchen, you take him by surprise. you always do, even now, years after your first date. settled on your shoulders is an old seijoh promotional t-shirt he remembers having to wear to a fundraiser. but the seafoam green fabric settles against the tops of your thighs, exposing the remainder of your legs to the chilly breeze coming through the apartment windows. you always crack the windows when you’re cooking or baking; something iwaizumi noticed when you first moved in.

“iwa-chan?”

iwaizumi has to blink once, so harshly that he sees stars on the backs of his lids, before he can focus on you. he tilts his head and licks his lips, “yeah, sorry. what did you say?”

that laugh that rings in his dreams floats across the space between the two of you, and he fights a smile so he doesn’t look like a dope while you’re trying to ask him a question. he steps forward on the guise of hearing you more clearly, and then reaches out to push your hair behind your ear, his fingers itching to brush against the stitches of the fabric holding the shirt together on your pretty frame.

“i asked if you wanted the spicy steak tonight, or if you wanted me to reign in the heat,” your voice comes easy, simple and soft, and iwaizumi catches himself turning gentle at the sound of you. your palms abandon the cookware for a moment to extend towards his body, slipping beneath his top to rests on his hips. your thumbs brush over the warm skin, still slightly reddened from his time in the shower.

he’s so lost in the primal, territorial sensation he gets that starts as a prickling in the base of his neck, seeping down his spine and curling around every bone in his body. he wants to kiss you, to show you how he feels rather than telling you, and so he does.

iwaizumi has never been one to deny how he feels.

your breath is stolen from your lungs when he lurches forward to capture your mouth with his own. his palms are rough as they search your torso for somewhere to land, settling on your shoulders so he can keep your upper body pinned to him. you release a small squeaking sound from the back of your throat, but he’s already swallowed it before you can feel self-conscious.

“haji,” you gasp when you feel his fingertips dig into the muscle of your shoulders, and a laugh follows suit when his lips withdraw from yours and you can see the intensity in his gaze, “wh-what’s gotten into you?”

he’s not really sure, if he were to be honest with you. maybe it’s the nostalgia of the color fabric of the tee that you’re wearing. maybe it’s the way he wishes that he’d continued to play volleyball in a more direct way. maybe it’s the way the shirt falls just far enough to keep you from exposing anything too tantalizing.

or maybe...

“it’s just you,” he answers, pulling you by the thighs so he can pick you up and deposit you on the counter top. your legs sashay, ankles brushing his legs, and you can’t help yourself from twirling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. iwaizumi takes a deep breath before repeating himself, as if saying the phrase again might solidify the statement, but this time he adds: “it’s just you, in my shirt. you’re absolutely beautiful.”

your whole body burns at the compliment, and you bashfully blink downward, but iwaizumi is quick to lean in for another kiss. before too long, he’s got you drowning in his affections, his palms beneath your shirt to map out your skin, and the dinner you were previously preparing has been completely forgotten.

“iwa,” you murmur between the clacking sounds your teeth are making as they collide, “d-dinner, what...”

you feel his chest reverberate with a growl and then his mouth is on your neck and his fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt, “forget dinner.” his voice is rough and his touch is gentle, “we’ll just order out tonight.”

⤭ terushima is the one to ask you if you want to wear his clothes from the very beginning. he loves seeing you wearing his flannels and tees and hoodies. he always tries to find one that pairs well with your outfit so that way he can reason you into wearing his clothes whenever you go out. ⤭ if he comes home to see you curled up on the couch in one of his hoodies, just absolutely engulfed in the warm fabric, it makes his whole body tingle. he goes and changes after work and will definitely slip underneath the blanket you’re hidden under to wrap his arms and legs around you. ⤭ when he asks you for clothing advice, at first you wonder if it’s because he’s trying to change up his look. but, after a few strangely specific questions, you finally realize that he’s trying to tailor his wardrobe to be something that you could always find easy to wear. ⤭ the desire to see you in his clothes is partially from being territorial, but mostly because he just thinks you look hot as hell when you’re wearing his clothes. you always manage to make his clothes look ten thousand times better, mainly because it’s you wearing them. it never fails, he will always make a comment about how good you look wearing just his big tee to bed, even if your hair is all mussed and your face is still shiny from your skincare. ⤭ sometimes you’ll catch him stealing your clothes, too. you wear big tee shirts that are comfortable, and sharing is caring! he loves to pick on you when he wears your clothes, pointing out the designs printed on the shirts and how adorable you are for wanting to wear such cute little things.

﹢

“god, pretty girl,” his voice is rough as it runs ragged against your ears, his hands on your waist from behind, “you know how it makes me feel to see you in my clothes.”

and of course you do. yuuji is no quiet thing when it comes to how you make him feel. so, you lean into him, if only to egg him on until he’s begging you to head out of this little house party. his fingers slip into the back pockets of your jeans and you find yourself stumbling into his chest, palms fumbling over his torso to try and clutch at his shirt to steady yourself.

“teru,” you chide, pinching his cheek before leaning up to kiss him. you pull away before he’s gotten warmed up, leaving him following you by craning his neck. a chuckle escapes your lips and you press your index finger against his pursed mouth, “we came here to celebrate kiyoko and tanaka. can you keep your hands to yourself for just a few more hours?”

“baby,” he’s whining in your ear now, all needy with his lips pouted and his irises widening, “you can’t be serious! you know that’s my favorite shirt to see you in! i think you did this on purpose!”

his fingers tug on the material of the flannel that’s draped over your shoulders, pooling around your hips and framing your body just perfectly. you watch as his irises struggle to focus, pupils dilating as he looks down at you. his mouth twitches in expectant words, but he’s interrupted by someone else who steals your attention.

while you’re busy talking to one of your old friends from high school, terushima is given the opportunity to take in your appearance for the first time since he met you at the party earlier, and the sight of you engulfed in his flannel and a pair of his crazy socks that peek out from the cuffs of your jeans makes his chest constrict so much so that he grasps at his shirt with his fingertips, barely curling his digits around the fabric of his tee before he realizes what he’s doing.

a slow, gentle blinking of his lashes brings him back to earth, where he can stare at you some more, all unbeknownst to you. he doesn’t mind admitting to anyone who wants to know that he loves to watch you when you’re just existing. he likes to notice the little things about you, to catalog them in the back of his mind so he can remember them on days when you have to be apart for longer than he wants to be.

your attention is diverted when you feel his palms against your hips, his chest brushing your back as he leans forward to kiss your shoulder, “i’m gonna get a drink, yeah? you want anything?”

“water,” you nod, reaching back with one hand to run your fingers against his undercut, “thank you, teru.”

another kiss is deposited to your cheek before he unravels himself from you and heads towards the kitchen, hands shoved deeply into his pockets. and you tilt your head so you can take in a deep breath of the collar of the flannel that you’re wearing, and somehow it feels like you’re there with him despite the distance between you.

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spenciegoob · 4 years ago

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How to Never Stop Being Sad

A/N: Yes, this is another song inspired fic I am OBSESSED with them. If you’ve listened to how to never stop being sad by dandelion hands, are you okay? If you haven’t and you do because of this I would like to formally apologize. Okay so I started writing this and I just want to say that every single one of you is so beautiful because like wait hold on I’m getting flustered... Anyways, everything about you is beautiful that I just got so overly flustered and hot THINKING about it. Okay that’s all carry on.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer shows Reader how to stop being sad in tiny ways.

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Content Warnings: mentions of depression, loneliness, body image issues and self deprecating thoughts

Word Count: 21K

Masterlist

____

Time has proven that fooling yourself into believing the lies is the most effective way to deal with the things you have no control over.

She sat there, for too long if she was being honest, staring at a reflection that couldn’t have been real. The mirror in her bedroom had to have been replaced with one from a carnival, distorting the image as a sick, twisted joke.

Your thighs are huge.

Your hips are too wide.

Your stretch marks are disgusting.

She had enough, finally letting the tears that welled in her eyes escape, falling down like raindrops on a window as she sat back and rested her head between her knees. She couldn’t bare to see anymore, all the early morning jogs, gym memberships and diet remedies were for nothing.

Her body had a mind of its own, and she couldn’t control it.

But then her front door clicked as Spencer all too excitedly used his brand new key, expecting to see his girlfriend sitting on the couch he fell in love with her on. The first day she invited him upstairs, the door was opened and his eyes immediately fell to the obscure, bright purple sofa that oddly enough went well with the rest of her simplistic, white furniture.

“I saw it once at a thrift shop and it was too perfect not to buy it,” she said, noticing the way he was eyeing the couch. He let a smile break across his face, knowing in that moment that he may just be in love.

But she wasn’t there, and when the door clicked shut, she was also made aware of the presence in her home.

Quickly, she pulled herself off the floor, wiped the tears that accumulated under her eyes and down her cheeks, and avoided looking at the reflection in front of her.

“Y/N? Are you here?” Spencer called from the living room. She knew he was slowly taking steps that he attempted to make as quiet as possible, just in case, towards the hallway that led to her.

“Uh, y-yeah I’m here. Just a second!” She called back, rushed and stuttering as she looked for the biggest sweatshirt and sweatpants she could find. Deciding on gray sweats and a Caltech sweatshirt, both belonging to Spencer, she took one last look at her face hoping he won’t catch what her previous activities consisted of.

When she walked out of the bedroom, Spencer saw it. He always did.

But what she noticed was the fact Spencer was dressed up, even after stopping home from the office before coming to her. They had a date, and it wasn’t that she forgot, oh no, she remembered clearly, but in her attempts to find something to wear that would be enough, her spiral had begun.

“Come here,” was all Spencer said, opening his arms for her to waltz into, and she did, slowly dragging her fuzzy sock clad feet over to the man in front of her that held both the warmth and answers that she needed.

“I’m sorry, I just... I can’t-”

“I know, it’s okay.” His reassurance calmed the nerves she had for the past hour over if Spencer would be mad that she flaked on a date. “Usually I’m the one to cancel dates. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

He wasn’t prying for answers, she knew that, and she also knew that if she said no, Spencer wouldn’t push it. That was the thing about Spencer; he didn’t need to know what was wrong, but he always knew how to fix it.

“Not yet,” she mumbled, her words muffled by his chest that she pressed her face into the moment she had the chance.

Spencer cradled the back of her head, forcing it off his chest softly to gaze down at her with a face full of worry, curiosity, but most importantly, adoration.

“Come on, sweetheart. I wanna try something,” Spencer said before grabbing her hand and leading her to the purple velour couch. He sat down first, pointing away from him with his free hand letting her know he wants her facing away.

The second she sat down, Spencer let go of her hand and replaced both on top of her shoulders.

“Spence, what are you doing?” She giggled slightly when his fingers brushed near her neck. Spencer will never quite get used to how ticklish she was.

“I’m giving you a massage, I could feel how tense your muscles were from across the room.” She knew it was a lie. He also knew it was a lie, but neither had the want to say anything about it.

His hands caressed her shoulders before moving down to her back, his fingers resting on the sides of her body as his thumbs did all the work. She let her head lean back as a sigh left her body with the tension.

“You’re so beautiful,” Spencer whispered just loud enough for them to hear, and even though they were the only two in the room, the admission felt natural as a whisper like if he said it any louder, it may have broken the bubble they were in.

Slowly, she looked down to the left of her, watching Spencer out of her peripherals. The second her eyes started to glisten, he abandoned the massage altogether to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her directly against him.

“I’m sorry I don't know why I’m crying,” she said between gasps for air and soft sobs. Spencer simply shushed her, and held her close to his chest, brushing his fingers through her hair.

He tried to turn her body to face him, but in her stubbornness, she stayed with her back to his chest.

“Hey, look at me, sweetheart.” Spencer put a finger under her chin, delicately lifted her head to lock teary eyes with his loving ones. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, and I promise to remind you that every day for the rest of my life.”

And Spencer Reid kept his promise.

Keep listening to the mixtapes they made you, overanalyze every single word you hear. "Was this a sign that things were going wrong?" No no, you were the one that cared too hard, not them.

The couple had impulsively decided to spend their two free days together in an impromptu vacation to New York City. Spencer never actually cared for the city, but when he watched the way she lit up as she suggested they go “be one with the New Yorkers,” how could he say no?

That’s how he found himself in the passenger seat of her broken down Volkswagen beetle listening to her sing along to the words of a song he’s never heard. Most of the songs she’s played so far he hasn’t known, but after watching her get lost in music she has no shame in showing she loves, he knows every line.

And when the song changes, his ears perk up because he knows this song. Spencer is aware that it doesn’t quite conventionally fit in his usual music library, but nonetheless, it’s adored just the same as Beethoven or Bach.

But then the channel is changed, the force used to push the button on the radio much stronger than needed. It was quiet for a second before Spencer spoke up.

“Are you okay?” It was simply put enough that if something was wrong, which evidently there was, she wouldn’t feel interrogated about it, only comforted.

“Uh, yeah. Everything’s cool,” she said in what could be the most unbelievable faux cheerfulness Spencer had ever heard. “That song just brings up some bad memories.”

“Oh,” Spencer whispered. When it didn’t look like she was going to elaborate, he continued. “Do you want better ones?”

“What?” She took her eyes off the road to look at Spencer like what he just asked was absolutely preposterous. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he changed the station on the radio back. Time was on Spencer’s side this morning, because the peak of the song was about to play once he settled back.

She's a, she's a lady, and I am just a Line Without a Hook

BABY, I AM A WRECK WHEN I’M WITHOUT YOU

Spencer loudly sang along to the words, throwing his head back as he yelled and using his hands as he sang. She looked over at him with wide eyes that slowly shrunk as her smile grew.

The ice the song caused to freeze over her mind and heart slowly melted from the warmth Spencer’s love spread. Together, they sang the rest of the song, and when it was over, she still had a smile on her face.

“You’re a terrible singer, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

Stay up every single night staring at your phone either attempting to gather up the courage to turn these demons, these constant reminders of your loneliness into nothing more than a bad dream, or praying just for one second you could feel the warmth of equally returned love.

There are many reasons one doesn’t answer their phone.

She could be on the phone with another person, but no that’s not possible. Her hatred for speaking over the phone ensued she never answered anyone but him.

Maybe her battery died, but that would mean she didn’t charge it overnight. Spencer watched her plug it in around midnight, even after he’s told her the dangers of doing that.

His mind unfortunately went to a darker place, because what he didn’t know was that hers did too.

She had watched her phone on her dresser vibrate insistently all three times until it fell to the floor with a deafening crash. She hoped that it didn’t crack, but that hope wasn’t strong enough to get her out of bed to check.

Spencer in his panic never expected to walk into her apartment to find everything in its place. Her car keys sat where they always did, in the bowl by the front door. The boots she usually found an excuse to wear with everything were sitting where she struggled every day to get them off by the couch, and there wasn’t a single sign of a struggle.

And then he walked into her bedroom to check one last time before he called Garcia, and while he found signs of a struggle, it wasn’t the one he was dreading.

It was the one she was.

They made eye contact the second the door opened, and upon seeing her safe, Spencer bit back a sigh of relief. There was no relief flooding his veins when the sadness in her eyes traveled to his, creating a sick equilibrium.

Spencer’s mind no longer cared about the missed phone calls, there were more important matters at hand.

“Hi, sweet girl,” was all he said as he shuffled into the room. “I got to go home early today, so I was thinking I could cook dinner for us.” Spencer had started to pick up thrown clothes off the floor, securing them in the dirty hamper. He was about to start putting books back on her bookshelf when she called out.

“Spencer.” It was only a whisper, because anything louder would’ve been too much work.

“I know, I know. My cooking skills aren’t the greatest bu-”

“Spencer,” she said again, much louder this time, even if it was just a hoarse excuse of his name.

He turned to her this time, stopping his cleaning. She had sat up only slightly to catch his eye. Regret filled her veins when they met, but upon gazing into pools of honey that held no pity, but an understanding, it melted.

“What are you doing?”

Instead of truly answering the question, Spencer held up the books that were in his hands. “Do you organize by last name?” When she just gawked at him, he continued, “We’ll do last name.”

She had no energy to fight him, he was right about the last name at least. Instead, she just watched him organize the book shelf in record speed, her mind clearing the fog that laid dangerously close to her thoughts.

When Spencer picked up the last book to be put away, she called for him again.

“Can you read that one to me?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Go out for coffee four times a week by yourself, always bring your notebook, never stop writing. Leave little comics and thank you notes with your tip, watch them smile as you get in your car.

She always sat alone. It was the first thing Spencer noticed about her because he too enjoyed his coffee at a table with only one chair. He would watch her every day when he got the chance to go to this cafe, so much so that his brain associated her with the place. The small mismatched couches that gave it a homey feel would always remind him of her, even if she were not sitting on them.

Who she was? Spencer did not know, but he was going to make it his mission to find out.

He always sat alone. A man like that, one with features perfectly sculpted, and an aura of comfortability so strong she didn’t have to follow the jingle of the bells on top of the door to know it was him who entered. She would look up from her notepad filled with doodles of everyone who walked by her, and comments about the day. He would always be reading, it being a new book each time.

One day when she looked up at him, wondering what he could possibly be reading now, their eyes met. She felt herself get lost in his eyes, like running through a forest, charting unknown territory carefree with no reason to turn back. Everything about him was so soft that she feared if he came any closer to her jagged thoughts, he may find himself ripped to shreds.

For the first time in Spencer’s life, his mind seized its constant running, the relief so strong he felt his limbs follow suit. She had paralyzed him with her stare, green meeting honey, mind numb except for the begging to get up and introduce himself.

In all the times he watched her, Spencer had never seen her smile until that moment. If there was any doubt that he shouldn’t talk to her, it was quickly washed away with the realization he would stop at nothing to see it again.

“Uh hi, I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.” When she looked up at him from where she went back to writing, his heart faltered. Her gaze was so cathartic that it leaves his brain fuzzy and his heart giddy.

Spencer never believed in a god, but if there was one, she was sitting in front of him.

“I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Giddy and fuzzy.

When his phone rings, Spencer swore whoever dared interrupt the moment he’s been dreaming of every night for 4 months was going to feel a wrath unparalleled. He reached into his pocket, and upon reading ‘Hotchner’ in bold letters, his face fell.

“It’s okay. We’ll see each other again,” she reassured him before he had the chance to queue her in on his need to leave. She just knew, the same way she knew it wasn’t going to be the last time she saw his face.

“Until then.”

“Until then.” She smiled as she watched him leave, and once the door shut behind him, she returned to her notebook. The smile never left.

Talk down on yourself whenever possible; my life is shit because I deserve it, right? You must have done something real bad, it’s nearly impossible for you to cry now.

It was always the little moments that Spencer let it slide. When he brought her coffee on the off chance he found a free day, and surrounded by her appreciation for his kindness was a mumbled ‘I don’t deserve you,’ he let it go.

The time they walked by a small boutique, and a dress in the window caught her eye. It was short, purple silk loosely hanging off the collarbone of the mannequin, only to tighten at the waist.

“I couldn’t imagine wearing something like that,” she told Spencer before the two continued to walk. He could.

Spencer thought she would look rather beautiful in it.

And now, they sat on her purple couch while Spencer attempted to pay attention to the TV show she was binging. He kept all his comments to himself, she liked to talk about what they watched after, and he vowed that this time, Spencer would actively participate in the conversation.

But when he looked down at the girl laying in his lap, he found she was no longer following the storyline, and instead looked a million lightyears away.

“Hey.” Her attention snapped to him instantly. “Where'd you go just now?”

“I was just thinking about you,” she admitted. Looking away she continued. “About us.”

She didn’t continue with that thought, but with the sadness that filled her voice, Spencer knew there was more than what she was letting on. He also knew that if she really wanted to share her demons with him, letting them dance circles around them in the dark until the sun came up, she would release them. So instead, he tried to shoo them away.

“You know I love you, right?” If reassurance was what she needed, he would be more than happy to grant her that.

“Why?” She whispered back, so softly that Spencer could’ve missed the way the room no longer just held the two of them. She could not find a singular thing she loved about herself in that moment, so what was Spencer actually seeing?

Spencer sat with that question for a moment.

“You make me smile, even when you’re not with me. When I’m away, thinking about you is the highlight of my day. You’re beautiful, it kind of knocks me off my feet for a second, and you’re so kind, even when people don’t deserve it. You’re a light in the dark. Plus you make really good cookies, but that’s just an added bonus. Does that answer your question?”

Spencer looked back down at her, finding a smile and tears, and somewhere in his mind, he knew to make a mental note of this image.

“Yes,” she whispered before reaching up and cupping his face. “But now I really want cookies.”

Avoid your friends for weeks even though they're the only sense of consistency you have left in your life, if they really wanted to see you they'd come, but they won't.

She could feel herself slowly closing off, and no matter how much she willed for the isolation to find its way out, it still crept in at night. Without care, she let it consume her, taking more and more time during the day to dissipate to inevitably crawl back at the first sign of dark. It infiltrated her mind like a parasite, latching on to the first vulnerable thought.

Spencer did nothing wrong, he was sure of it. What he wasn’t sure of, however, was the reason for his girlfriend’s abrupt distance. He knew that in relationships, sometimes space apart from one another is important, but that knowledge wasn’t enough to stop the nagging feeling.

Something else was wrong, he was sure of it.

Alone she sat staring out the window at cars that drove by and people enjoying the day in each other’s company. The sounds of the world were not enough to drown out her mind’s racing, the thoughts so loud that she could’ve missed the knock at her front door.

It happened again when she refused to move or make a sound that could inform whoever was on the other side of her door that she was home. By the third round of knocking, she grew irritated and stormed over to give whoever interrupted her self loathing a piece of her mind.

But she opened the door and there stood Spencer, and whatever obscenities she planned on yelling were forgotten. In their place, guilt flooded through her because Spencer didn’t storm in angry, or yell at her for avoiding him for a week. Instead, he just stood there, no anger, just unapologetically Spencer.

“It’s been a week,” he said, no heavy emotions in his voice, just very matter-of-factly. “I hope it’s okay I stopped by.”

No one had ever just “stopped by” before.

“It’s more than okay.”

Allow yourself to lose interest in the things you love, watch as you begin to take a backseat to the world around you, don't fight it. Become a secondary character in your own motion picture.

Spencer wasn’t particularly snooping as he was curious. She was in the shower, and he spotted it. Before he even had the chance to force his eyes anywhere but the leather bound journal, it was too late. His mind was already too curious for any other decision besides to read what was inside.

It was the same journal she was so engrossed in every time he looked at her in the cafe.

The first few pages were simple sketches of people he recognized as regulars from the cafe. On the fifth page, what looked to be an unfinished drawing of a man was found with a little note next to it that read ‘My art doesn’t do him justice.”

Spencer could’ve sworn he had that same haircut 7 months ago.

Moving on, he flipped to a page with a drawing of a sunflower on it, the stem growing up the side of the page with a small flower on the top, leaning over what he suspected was a poem. It read,

with striking precision, my mind is full of thoughts

only i have not a soul to voice these nags

the episodes of Self Growth and Actualization that i long to not be

my reassurance alone.

if only my being was of a sunflower’s,

to sit in a field surrounded by those who are

Just Like Me.

Spencer read it over and over, scouring his brain for the poem’s author. He was trying so hard, his brain going into overdrive that he missed the sound of the shower turning off.

She walked out of the bathroom to find Spencer sitting on her bed, journal in hand.

“What’re you doing?” She asked, although no matter how hard she tried to sound serious and authoritative, it more or so came out joyous with the giggles that followed her question.

“Who wrote this poem?” Spencer asked, finally looking up at her. There she stood in the doorway of the bathroom, bright pink fuzzy pants and a white t-shirt on, drying her hair with a towel and she has never looked more beautiful.

“Which one?” She walked over and peaked at the page Spencer landed on. “Oh, that’s mine.”

It was so nonchalant that Spencer had to repeat it over in his mind to fully grasp what she said.

“You wrote this?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have more?” She laughed at his eagerness, but when she looked over at his dead serious face, her smile dropped.

“You can’t be serious. Spencer I wrote those so long ago. Eventually I realized it was going nowhere and just gave up. They’re really not that special.”

“They are to me.” The couple held eye contact, a silent standoff between the two. One of them had to back out eventually, and then the thought that no one in her life had ever told her that her art, whether it was huge painting or little doodles, long written out memoirs or tiny poems, was special.

So she threw the competition, and sat down next to him on the bed.

“There’s another one on the next two pages.”

You don't need other people to drive away your loneliness, you just needed to find a way to talk to it.

______

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whereisten · 4 years ago

Text

Valentine Boy

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Preview | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary:

You’ve been dating College Student!Jaehyun for a few months now. He’s unbelievably sweet, smart, oh..and very handsome. Best of all, he gives you the best love you’ve ever had. He’s the love of your life and you can’t see anything going wrong as your relationship sails smoothly..that is..until you discover his biggest secret. He’s been hiding the fact that he’s a camboy and you start to wonder..Is Jaehyun as sweet and honest as you think he is?

Pairing: female reader X college student and camboy!Jaehyun

Genre: Smut, Angst, fluff

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: cursing, alcohol mention, cheating, deception, manipulation, gaslighting. Dry humping, car sex, protected sex.

A/N: hellooooo thank you everyone for your immense support on this fic, I hope you enjoy this preview, I haven’t proofread it but I will later!! Also, I am working on the tag list right now, if you would like to be added, pls send a message/ask or reply to this! The rest of Part 3 will be up very soon❤️❤️❤️❤️

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

The sunlight couldn’t be any brighter as its rays peaked through the slim blinds and onto your bed. You grumble a little bit when you feel the heat on your arm. You turn over slowly, your body still aching from the night before. But you’re able to reach out and tap the fluffy white blanket next to you.

“J-Jaehyun?” You say, peering out through one eye to see your brown haired boyfriend.

But you don’t see him.

As your senses awaken, you hear the tapping of keys in the living room.

“In here, babe!” Jaehyun yells out.

You smile when you hear his sweet voice and lay back down in the bed. “Oh my God, I can't feel my legs.” You chuckle.

“Ahh..sweetheart..I didn’t even go that hard on you..” he trots into the bedroom with a cup of coffee.

“Here..I’m working on a paper that’s due tomorrow, but I’m almost finished.” He places the cup down on the dresser beside you before ruffling your hair with his fingers.

He looks delectable with no shirt on and just boxers. His hair is still messy too, with his soft hair falling into his forehead limply.

You clutch the blanket to your naked chest and smile widely. “Thanks, baby..how do I look?”

“Hmmm..” Jaehyun tilts his head and smirks. “Like someone pulled your hair a few times last night..”

You chuckle a less than sexy laugh, but lick your lips as you remembered the way he pinned you against the bed just a few hours ago.

You sit up on the bed and place a finger into the waistband of his boxer shorts, tugging it teasingly as your eyes lock.

“I miss having my hair pulled…”

He bites his bottom lip and sighs as he watches your daring eyes below him. A low groan escapes his perfect lips.

“Mmm..baby, I wish we could..but I have to finish this assignment..”

You pout and withdraw your finger. “Okay.”

“I’ll make it up to you later baby, it’s our last day in Bali..we’ll go to the beach one last time and do whatever you want to do.”

He holds your chin and rubs his thumb on it.

You smile.

“Okay, my smart baby, get back to work!”

Jaehyun gives your forehead a light kiss and leaves.

“Professors that assign homework to do during spring break don’t make any sense!” You yell out and fall back into the bed.

Jaehyun only laughs and sits back on the couch with his laptop.

After about two hours, Jaehyun finally finishes his work and walks back to the room.

He plops down into the bed and places his iPad in the center.

You put your phone down and turn to him.

“Wanna watch some Tik Toks with me?” He gives you a cheesy smile.

“Of course! You look like you could use some decompressing..”

You rub your hand on his hair and smooth it out of his face.

He takes the move as an opportunity to kiss your wrist.

“Hey!” You laugh at the ticklish feeling and move your hand.

The two of you watch many, way too many, videos well into the afternoon. But losing track of time with the one you loved the most was okay.

You and Jaehyun laughed together as you laid on his chest and scrolled through his ‘for you page’. You’d look up at his face every now and then just to watch him laugh. His eyes crinkling into thin lines and his dimples becoming deeper than any of the earth’s trenches. The warmth from his chest when something made him echo our thunderous laughs and the way his fingers drew small circles onto your naked back. He made everything feel right in that moment. Your spring break with Jaehyun was working out to be one of the best vacations you’d ever had. You never wanted it to end.

“Alright...I think it’s time we head to the beach..” you run your eyes.

“Yeah..but remember when you said you missed having your hair pulled?” Jaehyun’s raspy voice entered your ear.

You put your hand onto his chest and looked into his eyes.

“That was a while ago, Mr. I-am-a-devoted-student.”

Jaehyun pouted. “Hey..don’t be so harsh, sweetheart...does the offer still stand?” He places his thumb onto your lips, running over it slowly.

You open your mouth slightly then stick your tongue out. You lick over the top of his thumb while looking into his eyes.

Jaehyun’s breath hitches. He swallows hard as he watches you take the rest of his thumb into your mouth and past your gorgeous lips.

You lift your head up and place the iPad to the side. You then crawl over his lap and straddle him.

You bite your lips as you feel his hardening member strain against his boxers. The thin fabric of it being the only thing separating your bare opening from his aching manhood.

He immediately places his hands on your thighs and relaxes into the bed.

You move forward and backward slowly, too slowly.

Your hands are resting on his toned chest as he struggles to breathe normally.

He pushes up into your body more, trying to stay at your pace but finding it difficult as your beautiful body moves above him. You’re like an angel. Even with disheveled hair and smudged makeup, you’re the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

“Ahh..baby..” Jaehyun licks his lips. “You’re beautiful..so beautiful.”

Jaehyun is fully hard now and reaches into his shorts to pull his dick out. But you hold his wrist and shake your head.

“Not yet..”

You whimper, your entire body trembling as you tease him, your folds now dripping from the steady movement. You swivel your hips and grind down onto him a little harder.

Jaehyun groans just as you lean down to kiss him. The taste of alcohol and coffee on his tongue sends a rush through your head.

“Baby..please..I wanna feel you..” Jaehyun looks into your eyes as you pull away from the kiss. He tightens his grip on your thighs.

You give a half smile then lean down to his ear and whisper. “You can feel me..after you shower..”

Jaehyun pouts.

“You smell like alcohol, babe.” You plop down onto the bed beside him and laugh.

He sighs loudly and turns over to you. “Why do you do this to me?”

You run your hands through his hair. “Get washed up baby, we can’t spend our last day here inside!”

Jaehyun hurries into the shower as you laugh.

You hear the water start to run in the shower and get up to get your outfit for the day together. But as you arise from the bed, you see a notification pop up on Jaehyun’s IPad.

It’s a text message.

From someone named ‘R’.

It was nice seeing you last night ;)

Your brows furrow. Who could this be? Who of Jaehyun’s friends had a name that started with R? And why wouldn’t he just save their real name? How could he have seen this person last night when you were both at the club together? This person had to be texting the wrong number.

Another text comes in..it’s from the same person.

Can't wait til you get back..

You stare blankly at the IPad, trying to remain calm as you read through these mysterious and yet flirty messages. Or were you over exaggerating? Maybe this person was just a classmate working on a project with Jaehyun, maybe it was just someone from your university that just so happened to be in Bali for Spring Break like you guys were, because Bali is a popular destination for college kids, right?

But why were you looking at his IPad anyway? You should’ve respected his privacy, but you had your suspicions still. You just couldn’t push them away, could you?

Another text..

I’m gonna make up for it when you get back, Jaehyun, gonna show you..

“Everything alright?” Jaehyun’s low voice speaks out from behind you. He’s so close, you feel his warm breath hit the back of your neck.

You swallow hard and turn to him. You didn’t hear the water stop or even his light steps. Did he know that you were reading his texts?

He stared into your eyes intensely then shifted his attention back to his screen on the bed. You stepped in front of it and smiled.

“Y-yeah..everything’s fine..I just..I got kinda dizzy when I stood up too fast.” You chuckled but Jaehyun only gave you a small smile.

“Are you okay now?”

“Yeah! I’m fine!”

Jaehyun forces a wider smile and nods. “Good! I was wondering if you wanted to shower with me..we’ll save on water. It’ll be good for the Earth.” He raised his eyebrows and winks.

You smile and join him for a shower, forcing the many thoughts you had away. You don’t want to ruin the vacation as Jaehyun had accused you of doing the night before during your little “fight.” You want it to be a good time for both of you, so you continue on and go to the beach.

‘R’ could’ve simply been a classmate or friend of Jaehyun. You shouldn’t overthink it, there had to be an explanation. While walking on the beach together with your hand in his, you try to think of your moments together. Sweet and tender moments of laughter like this morning, or when he held you bridal style when you first went to the hotel. Or when he surprised you with a large bouquet of flowers while you were in class and risked getting scolded by the professor.

That was the Jaehyun you knew. There was nothing to worry about with him. He loved you and proved it many times, so why did you feel this unshakable tremble in your chest that screamed ‘danger’?

—————

[Two Weeks Later]

Back in class, you tried hard to focus on the lessons, but something still upset you.

“I’m gonna make up for it when you get back.” What did that mean? And what else did that person text.

But then, you rubbed your eyes and looked back at the screen.

You thought about Jaehyun’s sweet smile and how he loved you during your break together. You smiled to yourself and remembered when he told you he misses you whenever he is at work.

The person next to you then took out their container of strawberries and popped the cover off. The sweet smell filled your nostrils and made you exhale. You could really use some refreshing fruit from Bali right now.

That’s it! You could visit Jaehyun at work and drop off a basket of fruits from the market. It was time that you spoiled him for once. He’s given you so much already, it’s the least you could do. You smile to yourself as you imagine the grin that would cover his face once you surprised him.

Luckily, you remember the name of the place that he works at even though he mentioned it only once in the past and never again.

You show up to the prestigious building with your best dress shirt and office skirt on. You wanted to look professional as it was a very serious work place. You just hope that you came late enough to deliver these fruits and not upset the manager.

The woman at the front desk looks intimidating, but you put on your brightest smile.

“Hi, excuse me, I’m looking for Jaehyun. I think he’s working right now.” you give a small smile to the older blonde haired lady with a silk Versace handkerchief tied around her neck.

She gives you a small smile and nods, “I’m sorry dear, but there’s no employee here by that name.”

“Oh..um, could you look again? I’m sure he’s just not showing up in the system, but he’s working until 5 today.”

She sighs then takes a look at her screen. “Hmmm..nope! No one here by that name, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re not thinking of ‘Johnny’?”

“No-no it’s Jaehyun...Um there may be a misunderstanding or something..” you blink rapidly.

She shakes her head and turns the computer screen to you.

“See...here’s the schedule for next week..”

You scroll through the names.

“Normally, I wouldn’t show this to anyone...” she whispers, but you’re too focused on finding his name to listen.

Taeil.

You continue scrolling until you get to the bottom.

Jaehyun’s name isn’t there on the list of employees..

It didn’t make any sense. Your grip on the basket starts to weaken. You can feel a small crack in your beautiful world start to spread.

Jaehyun was lying to you..all this time. This wasn’t even his workplace.

You step back as she turns her screen back to face her.

You look at the floor and fight back tears.

“Dear...are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” But you really weren’t. You couldn’t fight back the tears anymore. The floor below you became decorated with one, then two then three teardrops.

“Here.” You wipe your eyes and hand the fruit basket to the lady at the desk.

She looks puzzled.

“Sweetheart..” she starts.

“Please!! Just take it!..I’m sorry for wasting your time..” you turn and leave the fruit basket on the front desk.

There were too many thoughts running through your mind. You walked heavily, with fury running through your veins and clenched fists.

How could he take you for a fool like this? How could he lie to you? Was he spending time with ‘R’ whenever he said he was “working?”

But you would confront Jaehyun, you would get answers when you met up for dinner. You had to know the truth and let him know that whatever game he was playing was over.

————

[Later That Night]

You meet up with Jaehyun at your favorite restaurant.

You wait for him outside and when you see him walk over you stare blankly.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby!” Jaehyun gives you a bright smile as he trots over. Maybe he didn’t see your frown, or wet, red eyes..maybe he didn’t notice your voice crack before you swallowed hard.

“We need to talk.” You look up at him once he stands over you, his bright smile fading slowly and his grip on the strap of his backpack tightening.

“You’ve been lying to me, where have you been?”

You say sternly, your lips pursed as Jaehyun stands tall in front of you now.

“What are you talking about?” He gives you a confused look.

“Cut the bullshit, Jaehyun, I went to your “job” to bring a gift because I’m a nice girlfriend, but to my surprise you weren’t there. And you know what the icing on the cake is? You’re never fucking there, you don’t work there Jaehyun! And don’t you dare lie to me with some dumb excuse, don’t insult my intelligence! Because the nice lady at the front desk even showed me the schedule and guess whose name was on it? Taeil’s but not yours!” Your voice raises, but there is no one outside to hear.

Jaehyun’s mouth opens and you see a slight panic in his eyes. “Y/n..you can’t be serious.. Why are you getting upset with me? That lady is new! She doesn’t even know how to operate the employee system properly yet! I’ve only seen her once.”

You scoff. “Oh God, here we go..”

“Y/n! I wouldn’t lie to you okay?”

“Then why aren’t you on the schedule and everyone else is?! Did she just delete your name completely?”

“My name isn’t on the schedule for next week because I asked for time off..after all we’ve been through..”

He shakes his head and turns away.

“Don’t give me that, Jaehyun! We just had spring break, why would you need to take time off?”

“Because my dad fucking hates me, okay?!! He keeps putting pressure on me because I’m failing my fucking business classes. They aren’t easy, none of this shit is easy, especially when it comes to being his only son! He’s going to stop paying for my classes if I don’t get pre-selected for the business school by the end of this term, so yeah I need a fucking break!”

He turns back to you once you remain quiet after his outburst. “Listen..I’m sorry..I’m sorry, I’m just stressed out...I should’ve told you I was gonna take time off, but I don’t understand why you are making me feel guilty about this?..”

You feel an immense pain in your heart. You feel guilt, confusion. You had accused Jaehyun without considering his personal issues at home. From the very beginning, he told you just how demanding and controlling his father was. He told you that he loved painting and creating art and hated that he would have to take over his father’s position in a big company one day.

It was something he struggled with constantly. The tug of war between being who he is expected to be and being who he truly wants to be.

“I’m sorry, forget I said anything.” You say quietly now.

“Trust me...please just trust me, I’m not hiding anything, I need you to understand that if we are going to make this work.” Jaehyun steps towards you and places his hands on your arms.

You look away.

“Unless..you don’t love me..do you want to end things? I try so hard, but it isn’t enough is it?” Jaehyun looks at you through teary eyes.

You shake your head and look back at him with furrowed brows. “Jaehyun..”

“No. It’s okay, let’s just end it since you don’t trust me.” Jaehyun says.

“Jaehyun, no, I love you and I’m sorry. It’s my fault for blowing up at you. But I love you so much..I just wanted to surprise you.” You break down into a sob before he takes you into his arms and holds you close.

“Shhh...it’s okay..I’m sorry too..” he kisses your forehead. You look up at him and kiss his lips.

The two of you stand there for a moment, embracing each other lovingly, enjoying the proximity of your bodies and the way they fit perfectly together.

Jaehyun pulls away and looks into your eyes. “Are you hungry?”

You shake your head. “Not really.”

He chuckles. “Me neither. Let’s get out of here.”

He takes your hand and leads you to his car. He then drives and parks in an empty parking lot.

A soft song plays in the background as you begin to kiss again.

Jaehyun’s tongue traces over your bottom lip, you turn your head and run your hand down his chest, your delicate touch sending shivers up his spine.

Your hand travels all the way done to his jeans, then rubs his bulge. He fidgets and moans into your mouth.

“Needy.” *kiss*

“Girl.” *kiss*

Jaehyun growls.

You laugh out, but continue to press onto the growing tent.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” You whisper.

“It was kinda hot.” Jaehyun kisses your neck and pulls your leg over his lap.

“I was thinking of how I would punish you for it..how I’d shut you up.”

You climb over the center console and onto his lap, his arm around your waist as he helps you.

He pushes the seat back and puts his hands behind his head.

“No teasing this time, baby.”

You nod, quickly unbuttoning your shirt. The cold night air hits your chest but the warmth in the car quickly comforts it.

Jaehyun then pulls your bra down, your breasts popping out from it and bouncing gently.

He leans forward to palm both nipples, watching you as you bite your lips and moan quietly. The stars shining on your skin through the sunroof.

He licks one of your nipples and listens to you cry out.

Your head falling back as he flattens his tongue against your heated skin once more.

He looks up at you through his lashes then sucks your nipple.

“Jaehyun..that feels so good.”

He hums and sucks as you move back and forth on his lap. His bulge presses against your underwear as your skirt slides up your thighs.

He zips his jean down. You watch his length spring out, the tip red and dripping with pre cum. You could orgasm from the sight alone.

You leave your skirt on but shimmy out of your panties.

He then pulls out a condom and glides it down onto himself.

“Come here..” Jaehyun calls to you then lays back down on the seat. You lower yourself slowly, thankful for your own essence that allows him to enter you easily.

“Fuck.” You mutter once he fills you up completely, you feel every ridge of every vein run against your silky walls. For some reason, he feels bigger than usual.

You move up and down and swivel your hips. His dick glides into you easily now, your wet entrance happily greeting it each time. He looks so hot below you. His jaw clenched and his abs flexing under his white t-shirt.

Jaehyun watches you through low eyes. He doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t frown. It’s a blank face, it’s almost like he’s not really there with you.

Truth is, Jaehyun was thinking about how close he was to being caught. You went to his workplace and discovered the truth. He was able to cover it up quickly but he made you feel bad in the process. A part of him truly regretted lying to you. But he knew one day he would find a way to explain it all to you and he knew you would forgive him because you love him.

Your whimpers grow louder as you approach your climax, but Jaehyun is nowhere near his. You bounce up and down faster, hissing as you take in sharp breaths and closing your eyes as you clench.

He stares at you again and thinks of how precious you are to him. Your face is beautiful even as your mouth falls open into loud moans and your eyes shut tightly. Your jawline and neck sparkle not only with sweat, but the reflection of the stars above you.

Your womanhood feels amazing around him as it always does. He rubs your clit to push you further along.

“You can do it, baby, cum for me.” His deep voice echos.

The car is filled with lewd sounds of skin on skin and your cries.

“J-Jaehyun..” your name falls from his lips. He watches your perky nipples. He palms one with his other hand then pumps your breast.

You cum hard not long after. Curse words leave your lips as you fall apart on him. He continues to push into you, even as you clench uncontrollably around him.

He grips your waist and slams you down onto him, your tight pussy providing sensational vibrations to his cock.

“Ahh..that’s it, sweetheart.” Jaehyun grunts

“Baby!” Your eyes fly open. You are so sensitive and on the brink of passing out from your intense orgasm but he doesn’t stop to let you recover.

He pushes into you hard from below, you breathe heavily and look up at the sky as tears fall from your eyes.

“This pussy is mine right?”

Jaehyun growls.

“Y-yes…yes.” Your head is empty as he continues to fuck into your body from below.

He then cums and stares at your body above him, so beautiful, so perfect.

You lay on top of him for a moment. He holds you against him in his arms.

“I’m sorry..” he whispers then kisses your ear.

“I’m sorry, too.” You whisper back.

A few minutes later, you get into the passenger seat and let Jaehyun drive you home.

However, he has to make a stop at the gas station to fill up.

When he goes inside to pay the cashier, you grab his phone.

You tried to think of the security code. What could it have been? You tried his birthday, but it didn’t work, you tried several other basic combinations like ‘1,2,3,4’ or ‘9,8,7,6’ they didn’t work.

Jaehyun was still inside, but you only had one more try before his phone would lock itself for a few minutes.

You thought for a minute then tried one final code..your birthday. And it worked.

You quickly went to your contact name on his phone and selected “share my location with this contact.” This way, if you ever needed to get to him, you would know exactly where he is.

The idea sounded crazy to you, but a part of you still felt unsure about everything. You wanted to bring up the text messages you saw, but you knew that would make him upset again. He’d ask why you invaded his privacy. So instead, you decide to have his location turned on for you to see...just in case.

Jaehyun gets back in the car and you’ve already placed his phone back in the cup holder.

“Let’s get out of here..” he gives you a wide smile and winks.

410 notes · View notes

dirty-urie · 3 years ago

Text

Little Brendon

Second Person

Brendon x Female Reader

PFTW Era

Fluff(ish) Oneshot

PG-13? R?

3.6k Words

Warnings In Order of Appearance: real person fic, language throughout, arguably slight smut, minor dirty talk

Author's Notes:

1. I don't know how I got this idea or what possessed me to actually write it, to be honest, but I had fun, so I guess that's all that matters.

2. Posting this in honor of the anniversary of the show I went to on the first leg of the Wicked tour, which was technically yesterday, but this fic wasn’t done yesterday, so here it is now.

“Awww, little Brendon,” you gush at the computer screen.

“Please tell me you aren’t looking at pictures of my penis,” Brendon says, walking into the room.

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Not that your ego couldn’t use a little bruising, but no, I’m not cooing at your nudes. Merch wants you to sign off on the final photos of the Beebo plush, and look how cute he is!” You shift the computer monitor so he can see what you’re looking at.

“Why are you going through my email?”

“You always ignore emails from Merch, and I like looking at all of the new Panic designs!”

“Babe, I work ten hours a day; I don’t want to do anything I don’t have to. Merch will use whatever designs they think will sell well. They don’t actually need my approval. Those sign-off emails are just a formality.”

You pout. “I know, I know. I won’t go through your email anymore.”

“Good,” he says, relieved. "I wouldn’t want you to discover all the messages from my mistresses.”

“You’re a jackass,” you call, flipping him off as he leaves the room with a smirk.

***

“I’m gonna miss you,” you pout, leaning against the door frame to your bedroom.

He kisses your forehead and puts another pair of sweatpants in a suitcase. “You can’t wait for me to leave. You get to have the girls over, watch all your shitty movies, and you won’t have to deal with my dirty underwear or noisy video games in your nice living room.”

You take the t-shirt he’s about to pack out of his hands and throw it on the bed, pulling him into a kiss. You slip your hands under the waistband of his pants to grope his ass. You pull away. “Mhm, that’s what I thought. I don’t ever have to deal with dirty underwear because you never wear any.”

“Hey! Don’t slut-shame me! You love having such easy access to this body.” He gestures to his body with a strange flailing arm motion.

“You know what? You’re right. I can’t wait for you to leave.”

He side-eyes you. “Well, in that case, you won’t want the present I got you.” He shrugs, refolding his shirt.

Your eyes light up, and you go kiss him again. “Have I ever told you how much I love you? Because it’s a lot. Enough to justify a really nice present,” You say after he pulls away.

“That’s what I thought. I guess you’ll get your present after all. Close your eyes,” Brendon says.

You close your eyes, and he hands you something soft. You open your eyes, and it’s Brendon’s likeness in plush form. He’s wearing Brendon’s tour outfit with a gold jacket over a black tee and black leather pants.

“Little Brendon!” you exclaim, seeing the toy in your hands. “Aww, it’s even got your lips and little eyebrow scar! Thank you, babe.” You kiss him and then Little Brendon. “Now I have someone to keep me company while you’re off getting bitches on tour.”

“Oh, come on, babe,” he says, putting his hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes, “they’re not bitches, they’re groupies.”

You smack his arm affectionately and then push him onto the bed to crawl on top of him. “Maybe you should practice for the groupies. Wouldn’t want you to kill their rockstar fantasies because you’re out of experience.”

He flips you over and rolls on top of you, nipping at your neck. “Out of experience? What, pray tell, have we been doing every day for the past two weeks, if not building my experience?” he asks with disbelief, punctuating each point with a bite or kiss. “Remember when I made you come twelve times in one hour before I let myself come? Or when we fucked on the roof of my studio when the neighbors were out of town? Or when you fucked my ass with that new toy, the one that vibrates?”

“Shit, shit, point taken,” you moan, grinding up against him while he bears down on you.

His phone pings, and he slows his hips to grab it from the side table. “Fuck, Zack’s out front. I’ve gotta go.”

You grab the front of his shirt and yank him down for a deep, dirty kiss.

He’s reluctant to pull away, but his other love is calling. Tour, that is, not Zack.

“Okay, let me up, loverboy. I’ll help bring your stuff out to the car,” you tell him.

“Thank you. Most of my instruments and stuff are already with the guys, but I’ve still got two suitcases and a backpack.”

You both stand up, and he grabs the suitcases, leaving you with the backpack. “You’re not gonna readjust, rockstar?” You ask, eyeing his tented sweatpants.

He shrugs, “My hands are full, and it’s nothing Zack hasn’t seen before.”

“You just like showing off,” you accuse, and he smirks a little and winks because you’re not wrong.

You walk him to the car and give him a final goodbye kiss. “I love you to death. Knock their socks off, babe.”

***

Without fail, the one-week mark hits you like a truck. You’ve had your fun with girlfriends, and you’ve enjoyed the peace and quiet, but your bed is empty, and it’s weighing on your chest. Even the puppies seem a little more glum without Brendon.

You feel silly, but finally, after two nights of crying yourself to sleep, you give in and grab little Brendon from your dresser and cuddle up with him.

***

Two weeks later and you and the real Brendon are half-asleep, snuggled up against each other in the nicest hotel room in Houston. You can only spend two nights with him, and you refuse to let him go for even a second more than you have to. Which he did not appreciate when he had to use the bathroom, but it’s his fault for leaving you for so long.

“Baby, I’ve got an interview, but I’ll bring back breakfast, and we’ll eat in bed, okay? I’m really sorry,” He whispers apologetically, peeling away from you.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s what you have to do to pay the bills. Can you hand me Little B? He’s in my purse,” you ask, and Brendon obliges without comment, probably just happy you’re not crying.

You fall back asleep with the little guy in your arms.

Brendon knows it’s irrational when he comes back three hours later at 8 am, and he feels a tiny twinge of jealousy at the plush you’re cuddled up with. However, he feels it is not irrational that he’s upset when he climbs into bed with you, and instead of immediately clinging to him like always, you just clutch Little Brendon harder. Almost as if protecting the toy from Brendon.

“Y/N, I’m back,” he whispers in your ear, half-hoping you’ll throw the doll on the ground and roll over to make burning hot love to him for 12 hours straight. That’ll show Little Brendon. Well, no, it won’t, he has stuffing where his brain should be, but it’ll show him on principle.

You do roll over to throw an arm across him, but you still have little Brendon tucked under your other arm.

Brendon decides to call this one a draw.

“Did you bring food?” You mumble.

“Of course, darling. I’ll do anything to spoil you. That’s one of the perks of having a driver’s license and sentience.”

“…What?”

“Nothing. I’ll get your food.”

He insists on feeding you and rubbing your feet, and letting you watch whatever you want on the hotel TV. And it’s just because he wants to take care of you while you two are together. Definitely no other reason. He certainly feels no joy at the sight of Little Brendon lying discarded on the nightstand. Point Real Brendon.

After the day of pampering, it pains you when you check the clock, and it’s time to leave. “Alright, I’ve gotta head out, B. I can’t miss my flight,” you finally say, changing from Brendon’s T-shirt into real clothes.

Brendon thinks about protesting, but he knows better. You have your own life apart from him, and he respects that.

You cram your stuff in your overnight bag and give your goodbye hugs and kisses to Brendon. Then you kiss Little B before throwing him in your purse. You think you see Brendon scowl at your new companion, but you were probably just imagining it.

***

“Surprise!” Brendon shouts as he opens the door.

“Babe! Thank god I sent the strippers home early,” you joke as he sits next to you on the couch.

“Shit, I missed the strippers?”

“You fucking goof,” you laugh, playing with his hair. “What are you doing home early?”

“Nicole needed to come home for some emergency with her house, so I figured I’d charter the plane and zip down with her and Zack to spend the night with my beautiful wife.”

“God, that must’ve cost an arm and a leg, B.”

He shrugs, “Nah, we were only in Portland anyway, and it’s easier than finding a new bassist on short notice. This way, Nicole and I can be back for the San Jose show tomorrow night, and I get a whole twelve hours at home with my girl and my puppies.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad it worked out for everyone. Especially me,” you say, shifting to sit in Brendon’s lap.

You two finish up the episode you were watching before you insist that he comes to bed because he’s overworked and jetlagged. He’s sleepy and doesn’t need that much convincing, but he tries to put up a fight anyway.

“I only get a little bit of time with you; I don’t want to spend it sleeping,” he complains.

“This is the hardest I’ve ever had to work to get you in my bed,” you respond, yanking him to his feet.

His eyes light up, and you shake your head. “No, sir. We’re not having sex. You’re getting at least seven hours of sleep in your own bed with the love of your life, and then you’re going to take a shower, make me breakfast, and give San Jose the show of their lives. You’ll literally see me again in two days when I come to the LA show.”

He bites his lip, still trying to lay the seduction on thick.

“No! Bed! Or I’m making you sleep in the guest room!”

He sighs, trudging along behind you to the bedroom.

“Um, babe, I think you forgot to kick out your mistress before I got home,” he says, gesturing to his side of the bed where little Brendon is tucked into the comforter.

You scowl playfully. “Oh, shush you. Where else should I put him while making the bed?”

“I don’t know, but letting my replacement sleep in my spot feels a little on the nose.”

“He’s not your replacement, baby.”

“Really?” Brendon asks, picking up Little Brendon and getting into bed, “because” he sniffs Little Brendon’s head, “I’m pretty sure Little Brendon is wearing my fifty dollar cologne.”

You blush, “Okay, well I take him everywhere, and I didn’t want him to smell, and it’s not like I could use any of my perfumes…” you taper off, realizing that you may have given yourself away with the ‘take him everywhere’ line.

He narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything else before clicking out the light.

“Hey, Brendon?” You ask quietly.

“Mm?”

“Um, what did you do with Little B?”

Brendon clicks on the light. “Ah-ha! J’accuse! You’ve replaced me!”

“I just don’t want the dogs to rip him up and then leave me to clean up stuffing all morning!” You defend yourself.

“Well then, you won’t mind me putting him up on the dresser.”

“Of course, I won’t mind.”

Brendon puts Little B on the dresser and goes back to bed, so imagine his surprise when instead of waking up tangled in your arms the next morning, he’s not even touching you on the king bed. Instead, you’re hugging Little Bastard with your nose buried in his fabric hair.

Little B’s smirk taunts Brendon as he storms out of bed to make his damn wife breakfast. His damn wife.

***

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you whine, rubbing your hips frantically.

“Come,” he commands. “Let me see that pretty mouth fall open as you come all over our bedsheets, pretty girl.”

The angle on your clit is perfect, and the image of him getting off on your phone right along with you pushes you into bliss, and your orgasm rocks through your core. You know you’ve affected him when you hear him grunt as come rolls down his fist.

“God, babe, you’re incredible, from a completely different country, fuck, a completely different continent, you still turn me on like crazy,” he admires.

“I could say the same about you. I came so hard just from getting to hear and see you.” You tell him before accidentally dropping your phone. “Shit, sorry, my fingers are a little wet.

Brendon would normally just be admiring the soaked panties he’s getting a glimpse of, but instead, his attention is drawn between your thighs for a different reason.

“Were you getting off by humping Little Brendon?!”

“It’s not what it looks like, okay?” You say, picking up the phone. “He’s the perfect firmness, and he’s way easier to manage than a clunky pillow! It’s purely physical!”

Brendon scoffs, “I’ve bought you thousands of dollars in sex toys, and you turn to him? In our marital bed? I’m being cuckolded by polyester!”

“Brendon, it’s a stuffed animal, not the pool boy. You come back from England in three days, and you can fuck me however you want. Y’know, because of your functioning dick, tongue, and fingers?”

“Just as long as I don’t come back to find you rimming the stuffed tiger from Calvin and Hobbes,” he teases with a smile.

“Hm, is degrading Winnie the Pooh out of the question, too, then? because if that’s the case, then I’ll need to find different plans for tomorrow evening.”

He gives you a pointed look, feigning seriousness before cracking a grin. “Alright, alright, thank you for the orgasm. I’ll see you on Tuesday,” he says before blowing you a kiss before hanging up.

“That plush better count his days,” Brendon mumbles to himself before falling asleep.

***

“Do you want me to go with you to the store?” He offers.

“No, baby, enjoy some of your time at home. I’ll just bring my other husband for emotional support.” You toss Little Brendon in your purse.

“I remember when I was your emotional support at the grocery store…” Brendon starts, looking off into the distance.

“Yeah, me too, and you were terrible. You hated it. Rest assured, I’ll make you come back to the grocery store another time, but right now, I’m being nice because you just got back from tour. And you still have the dishes and the vacuuming to do.”

“Aye, aye, captain. Don’t let the paparazzi catch you smooching Little Brendon while I’m at home doing your dirty work,” he calls as you leave.

“No promises! He’s very tempting!”

***

“You never snuggle with me anymore,” Brendon pouts after you reject his advances in bed.

“It’s August, and you’re hot,” you complain, and he gives you a suggestive look. “Not that kind of hot, Casanova. I mean two minutes in, and you’re sweating all over me. It’s uncomfortable.”

“You snuggled with Little Brendon when I was gone!” He accuses.

“Yes, because I’ve grown accustomed to sleeping with something in my arms, and Little Brendon doesn’t sweat, or snore, or wake me up in the morning with his cock pressing into my thigh, or bicker with me about how I choose to sleep,” you explain, annoyed. Brendon looks genuinely upset, so you soften your face. “When the temperature isn’t in the triple digits, and we don’t literally stick together when we touch, we can cuddle. Okay?”

“Fine.”

***

“Bogart, hey buddy, look at this toy for you to chew on. Bite, bite, bite, kill,” he says, throwing Little Brendon to Bogart.

Bogart sighs and rests his head on Little Brendon like a pillow.

“First my wife and now my dog,” Brendon shouts, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Okay, this has gone on long enough,” you tell him, alerting him to your presence in the doorframe. “Sit,” you order, pointing to the couch. “Brendon, you’re jealous of a toy,” you state bluntly.

He blushes and grabs his stuffed enemy. “It’s not about the toy,” he finally admits.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“It’s just,” he struggles to find the right words, “I love touring. I love seeing all the different cities on my days off, meeting fans, partying with different bands, and most of all playing shows.” He takes a deep breath. “But I also love you. I love waking up with you, going out to dinner, watching you get off on my thigh, and just getting to be near you. So when I have to be away from you to tour, sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, and seeing you do the things I want to do with you with the stupid Beebo plush instead, kept bringing all of those feelings to the forefront” he confesses.

“Oh, B, of course, you made the right choice. I love you, and I miss you when you’re gone sometimes, but I love our life. I love getting my independence when you’re gone, visiting you on-tour, watching you do what you love, having super hot reunion sex. So yeah, sometimes I just wanna squeeze you and smell your cologne and kiss your little face, but I’d never want you to sacrifice your career for that,” you say. “You wanna know why I like Little B so much?”

“Because he’s so good for humping?”

“No,” you laugh, “well, yes, actually, he is. But it’s because he reminds me why I spend some nights alone and hop on dreadful red-eye flights every few weeks and have to hook up with my husband on a fucking bus. So you can put on this dumb gold jacket,” you fiddle with Little Brendon’s jacket, “and perform the songs you worked so hard on for hundreds of thousands of people, and then sell thousands of these dumb little dolls so we can live in a multi-million dollar house with a home studio and a heated pool.”

“So you’re not replacing me with the puppet doll?” He asks.

“Well, maybe a little, but sometimes you feel so intangible. Even when you’re here, I know you have other, more important obligations, so it’s nice to have something constant,” you laugh, “and I think Bogart feels the same way,” you say, pointing to the dog who is curled around his new friend protectively.

***

“You’ve created a monster!”

“Have not!”

“You were the one who gave him Little Brendon!”

Brendon’s eyes dart to the floor because you’re right.

Bogart grew attached to Little Brendon faster than you did and now gently carries the toy with him wherever he goes. If you try to reclaim Little Brendon, Bogart growls and snarls.

“It’s kind of cute, I guess. He’s protecting his daddy,” you say.

“Then it’s your fault for putting my cologne on him,” Brendon retorts.

“Ugh, fine,” you concede.

“Oh look, he’s dropped it,” Brendon points out.

At first, you think it’s a good thing, but you both recognize the look Bogart’s giving.

“Go, Bog! Get it!” Brendon cackles as the dog pounces.

“Oh no, you don’t, bad dog,” you scold, snatching the toy away. “If you wanna hump something, I think Zack’s coming over tonight, but we don’t do that to mommy’s things.”

Brendon’s still laughing his ass off, and you shoot him a dirty look. “C’mon, babe, you’ve blue-balled him,” Brendon says, pointing to the sad-looking dog.

“Bogart is fixed and doesn’t have balls, a characteristic you two will soon have in common if you don’t stop giggling like a ten-year-old,” you threaten, and he, wisely, shuts up. “That’s what I thought. And if anything, this is just vindication for me because I told you Little Brendon was good for humping, and you dismissed it,” you tell him.

“Okay, fine, there was a brief period of time when I was irrationally jealous of a toy,” he admits. “But I think you should get another taste of the real thing before you decide who’s the better lay once and for all,” Brendon says, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

“Brendon!” You lightheartedly protest in his arms.

***

You’re lying on his chest contentedly as he strokes your arm. “You wanna know what I miss the most about getting to cuddle with you when you’re touring? Something Little Brendon doesn’t give me?”

“Hm?”

“Your heartbeat. Feeling it under my head or under my palm. Especially if we’re lying together for a while. I love how it slows and steadies the longer we’re with each other. So comforting.”

***

Little Brendon is sitting on your bed with a card that says, “Squeeze me!” on the front. You squeeze the plush, and you immediately recognize Brendon’s heartbeat coming softly from the chest of the toy. You smile and pick up the card.

Hey, baby! It reads, I’m no doubt missing you on the second leg of tour right now, but if you really need some comfort, I hope this’ll do. The recording lasts about an hour, and I made sure it got down to my resting heart rate before it stops. I’m sorry for being a jealous dick about a stuffed animal, but even my possessive lizard brain wants you to have something to make you feel better if you’re ever stressed or upset. (And now that the Beebo plushies are officially for sale, you can rest easy knowing yours is special)

xoxoxo,

Brendon

#why did i write this?#brendon urie fanfiction #Brendon x Reader #my own work #brendon urie #panic! at the disco #panic at the disco #brendon urie smut #brendon urie fluff

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years ago

Note

Hi babe 🥰

Happy Valentine’s Day! 💕

Si, i gotta ask. How do you think Dettlaff would celebrate Valentine’s Day with his SO/reader?

A/N: I saw my chance to answer another ask so I took it!

***

You gently tugged at the blankets that covered Dettlaff’s sleeping form.

“Dettlaff.” You sing-songed his name, a little smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

The Higher Vampire groaned, readjusting the pillows that he had stuffed beneath his head, and tucked his nose into their warmth.

You pulled away three different blankets from him, pulling them down to expose his bare shoulders to the cold air of the room. You moved from the foot of the bed to his side, your fingers trailing like feathers along his spine.

“Come on, darling. You’ve been sleeping for three hours.”

He shivered beneath your touch, your warm fingers a stark contrast to his chilly skin.

“Lay down with me for just a moment, my love.” His words were muffled by the pillows but you could understand him just fine.

“Now you know that isn’t a good idea.” You propped one knee up on the edge of the bed and leaned down to kiss the space behind his ear. “Then we’d never get out of bed.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”

“No, but everyone will be here shortly for dinner.”

Finally understanding that he couldn’t stay in bed with you for the rest of the night, Dettlaff let out a heavy sigh and rolled over onto his back. He looked up at you for a few moments, icy blue eyes inspecting your features.

“How many of them are coming? Just Regis and Orianna, I hope.”

“Well, they are coming. But so is Geralt and Yennefer, and Lambert and Aiden. Eskel is bringing someone too, though I haven’t met them yet.”

“You know, I think it would’ve been lovely if we had just made plans for ourselves and no one else.” His hand came up to cup your face.

“We can make plans for ourselves any other night of the year. Tonight, we can spend time with friends.” You leaned down to kiss his chest just above his heart.

“We can make plans for friends any other night of the year.” He muttered. His hand trailed around to the back of your head, long and slender fingers carding through your hair.

“Dettlaff.” You sighed softly. “You were excited about it when we put the plans together two weeks ago.”

“That was two weeks ago.”

“I should know better by now. My lovely introvert.” You teased as you leaned forward once more to kiss him.

“You really should. You’d think you’d learn your lesson after spending half a decade with me.”

You were glad to see he was in a good mood. Hopefully that meant this evening would go over smoothly.

“Come on.” You patted his chest and slipped out of the bed. “We’re going to go for a little walk before anyone gets here just so we can have some time to ourselves. I’ll be leaving a note on the table should anyone arrive early.”

“Regis.” Dettlaff grumbled as he sat up.

“He does like being punctual.”

***

The moon hung high in the sky, shining down through the thick tree canopies.

Dettlaff walked alongside you, your arms woven together as you leaned into him.

“I think it will be fun.” You thought out loud.

“What will?” He turned his head to look at you.

“Spending the night with friends. Well, they’re practically family, aren’t they?”

“You could say that.” Dettlaff nodded. “Though I think it would’ve been wiser to spend Valentine’s night with you alone in our home than crowded around a table with a bunch of loud dogs.”

“Hindsight is 20/20.” You giggled. “Don’t worry, darling. You’ll have plenty of time after they leave to spend alone with me.”

He grumbled something incoherent under his breath.

“I do appreciate you agreeing to this, Dettlaff.” You came to a stop and turned to face him. “I know crowds aren’t your favorite and you aren’t one for socializing. It means a lot to me that you suggested we do something like this tonight.”

His blue eyes stayed on you as his hand came up to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“I know how much you enjoy their company. And I’m willing to sacrifice my sanity for a few hours to see you happy.”

You smiled.

“But that isn’t my only gift for you. I do have something else.” He dug his hand into the pocket of his coat. “Can I see your wrist please?”

“Which one?”

“Either one.”

You gave him your left, watching as he clasped a silver bracelet around your wrist. Before letting you go, he brought your wrist to his mouth, pressing a tender kiss to the veins on the underside of your wrist.

“It isn’t much, but it made me think of you when I saw it.” He explained, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, not exactly you. I-I thought that it would remind you of me. I know I’m not always around. Sometimes I’m gone with Regis and other times I’m just…. So I wanted you to have something that reminded you of me.”

You turned your wrist around, examining the piece of jewelry. There was a little bat charm on it that made you smile.

“Dettlaff, it’s beautiful.”

“You like it?”

“I do.” You nodded, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and squeezing him tightly. “Thank you.”

He hugged you back, tucking his nose into your shoulder.

“I have something for you too.” You pulled away, keeping one hand on his shoulder. “But it’s back home.”

“Let’s finish our walk and we can go back.”

***

You led the way down the hall towards your shared bedroom with Dettlaff.

He listened to the way your heart picked up pace, the way it changed from that of the flap of a butterflies wings to something more akin to a hummingbird. You were excited.

You guided him over to the bed and gestured for him to sit.

“Stay here and close your eyes. I’ll go grab it. It’s in my study.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, eyes following you as you left the room.

“Are your eyes shut, Dettlaff?”

“Of course, my heart.” He answered, closing his eyes.

“Will you keep them shut?”

“Do you not trust me?” He teased.

“Don’t use any of your vampiric magic either.”

He grinned a little. Though his eyes were shut, he could still tell exactly where you were in the house. You were in the closet in your study, moving things around. You cursed a little and muttered under your breath about how cluttered things were. After a few moments, however, you were making your way back towards the bedroom.

Dettlaff couldn’t figure out what it was that you were gifting him. It had no smell, no taste that tainted the air. It emitted no sound. He listened more carefully, but was dumbfounded. All the ideas that had been forming in his head were disappearing.

“Darling, can I open-,”

“No.” You answered quickly, your voice sounding strained. “Keep them shut just-just a moment longer.”

It took all of the Higher Vampire’s self control to not open his eyes and see what it was that you had. But he didn’t want to upset you. He didn’t want to ruin your surprise.

You grunted a little and there was a deep thunk.

“Damn.” You cursed quietly.

“Is all well, my love?”

“Yes, yes. Just fine. You can open your eyes now.”

Dettlaff opened his eyes and instantly found you standing in front of him with a wide smile on your lips. Your hands were clasped together in front of you and you were messing with your fingers.

“I know how frustrated you get when you can’t find a mirror that works for you.” Your voice was quiet and timid. You stepped aside to reveal a large square mirror leaning against the dresser behind you. “The ones I have here, they are made with silver. So I had one specially made for you.”

Dettlaff’s lips parted as he looked at the mirror, seeing his own reflection in the surface. He couldn’t find the words to express what was going through his head.

Being that you weren’t sure how to take his silence, you continued to talk, your nervous ramblings getting the best of you.

“I know you like to get ready in the mornings with me and it puts quite a damper on the mood when you can’t see yourself. And-And you do take pride in your looks. You’re a dashing man-,”

“My heart?”

“Yes?”

“Come here.” He held his hand out for you.

You moved towards him, settling between his parted knees with your hands in his.

“Thank you.” He kissed your knuckles. “That was very kind of you. And very expensive, I presume.”

“That doesn’t matter.” You shook your head, reaching one hand around to place it on the back of Dettlaff’s head. You pulled his head into your chest and kissed his hair. “I wanted to do something for you.”

“And all I got you was a little bracelet.”

“It isn’t a competition of who gave the most expensive gift, Dettlaff.” You reminded him, pulling away so you could get a better look at him. “I’ve been planning this for a while, and it just happened that I had the means for now.”

His eyes lingered on you, a little smile on his lips.

“I am the luckiest creature alive, you know that right?”

“Oh, perhaps.” You grinned, giving him a chaste kiss. “I should go start dinner. I’m surprised Regis and Orianna-,”

A knock from the other room cut you off.

“You spoke too soon.” Dettlaff sighed. “It’s only Regis and Orianna. Hopefully the wolves are late.”

“Knowing them, they probably will be.” You moved towards the bedroom door. But at the last minute, you turned to look back at him. “I love you, Dettlaff.”

“I love you more, my heart.”

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alia-turin-fanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

@golden-olea something for you hopefully to satisfy your Aedan needs. Always happy to write more on the subject if interested.

NSFW below.

Aedan opened his eyes, the place was familiar, he couldn’t remember how or why. The forest was something he knew as well as he knew his face in the mirror. So close, so...home. A boy walked out of the woods, blonde hair reaching up to his shoulders, bright blue eyes...he knew the boy, that was him.

“What…” the boy passed just next to him and did not hear him. What was going on? The kid continued walking to the house nearby, Aedan followed. He didn’t remember that moment in particular, but he somehow knew it.

There was a woman in the house, her long golden hair reaching up to her waist. She turned around as the boy walked in, smiled warmly and took the rabbits from him.

“Your father will be proud.” she said.

His father was fighting somewhere, Aedan remembered how much he begged him as a child to take him away.

Show me who you are.

A voice.

He felt a presence but couldn’t identify what.

He looked around but didn’t see anyone. It felt like...someone was behind him but every time he looked back, there was no one.

Show me who you are.

He opened his eyes. Different house, no forest, big barren field. A boy, barely a teenager, longer golden hair falling past his shoulders. He was saddling a horse. A man walked to him, messy silver hair covered his head, sharp blue eyes were now watery, defeated.

“You can’t win with that horse.” his father placed a hand on the horse’s neck.

“You can’t grow crops here, but here we are.” The words were bitter and now Aedan can see they wounded his old man, but he didn’t know it then. He had been frustrated, working hard and getting nothing in return. His father made a better soldier than farmer, and so was true for Aedan.

This is not who you are. Show me who you are.

That presence again.

Aedan opened his eyes. Horse race. The blonde boy was the same age as in the previous memory, he knew that had happened just hours later. He jumped off the animal, people cheering, the other riders looking at him in disbelief.

“That was a good ride, son.” a man in cavalry boots approached him. The boy smiled, he was high on adrenaline. “You ride as if you were born on a horse, your poor mother.”

The boy was too young to understand the joke, too young to be racing, too young to have this conversation. Aedan wanted to scream at himself and tell himself to walk away, have that conversation three years later, not now. He wanted to tell the boy that he needs to fall in love, live some more before he gave his life away.

The boy nodded, too proud with himself, his arrogance and confidence already beyond anyone’s control.

“Do you want to be a cavalryman, son?” the older elf asked and the teenager’s eyes lit. All his life he had wanted to be a soldier like his father, he could be a cavalryman, he could be better than his father.

He was too young, but no one was there to tell him that.

“What is the point of that?” he screamed at the invisible presence but all he got in response was laughter.

When he opened his eyes again, the boy was older, just a couple of years, still foolish, still a teenager, not even a man.

No.

He had already earned some scars, already seen a good friend die, lost a horse, that hurt more. There was a girl in the room. Aedan could still remember the smell of her hair even after so many years. She watched as the boy walked in. Warm brown eyes filled with...what? He didn’t know then, he knew now.

The boy smiled and walked toward her, grabbed her face in his hands, but she stepped away.

“You can’t do that. We need to talk.” she said, he didn’t care.

“Do what?” The arrogant smile on his lips never disappeared and he stepped closer again, trying to pull her in his arms, but she walked away, further from him.

“I’m not a whore, you can’t be gone for months and then come back for a night, then be gone again and come back for a night.” he didn’t understand her words then, he wasn’t sure he understood them now. “I love you, but I need you for more than a night every few months.”

Aedan remembered that her words lit a fire in him that he couldn’t understand. Rejection turned into anger and malice. If he were older he would have understood, he understood now, but then? He was a boy living a man’s life. He wasn’t ready.

“We are all whores my dear, we just sell different parts of us.” his arrogant smile changed to something more vicious. “I sell my skills, you...well the best parts of you.”

She slapped him, Aedan actually did not remember that. He remembered what followed.

“Eilis, are you okay?” a man walked in from the other room. The boy tilted his head.

“As I said, selling the best parts of yourself.” he walked out, not a word. The fool he was, none of that was what it seemed.

That hurt. He had hurt himself, all that could have been avoided. He had met her years later. She had a family, a son, he had his sword and his horse, they both seemed happy even if he wished she was in his life.

Nothing was the same afterwards. Different women followed, different rooms, sometimes he didn’t even need a room. Never in the same bed unless it was his own and he was alone.

“Not funny whoever you are.” he was trying to figure out what was going on. It felt like dreaming, was he dreaming? Maybe. He could however feel. There was this presence, unnerving, like an enemy that sneaked way too close. There was also sensation, as if his wrists and feet were not getting enough blood. He looked down, but there was nothing to see.

He opened his eyes. He was in the training yard…

The teenager was a young man, way too young. Aedan could see the anger, fists tight, the fire in his eyes burning like nothing before. His gaze was fixed on an older man training further away. Aedan wanted to slap himself, it was the day he was told he cannot lead and that some lordling from Tir na Lia will be their new leader. He had just seen his captain die, in his arms, and now this dark haired man who was no one to any of them had to lead.

He walked to the lordling, when something made him look to his right and duck. His attacker missed the young man and his punch hit the new captain right in the chest.

The young man stepped away, it was the blacksmith. The man was not phased at all that he just hit the lordling, but turned around and launched again.

“You bastard!” the blacksmith shouted as the young man pulled a knife.

“My mother would be surprised to hear that.'' The man was about to punch him but then a figure moved between the two of them, placing one hand on the backsmith’s shoulder, another grabbing the the young man’s hand so he couldn’t move.

“What is going on here?” his captain’s emerald eyes moving between the two.

“He slept with my sister!” the man roared.

“I would apologize, but she seemed happy to me.” The young man grinned.

Aedan actually laughed. The blacksmith punching Eredin instead of him was among his favorite moments in life. Especially because it was over something so silly. He hated Eredin then,

He was in the forest again, the young man was on the ground bleeding, his leg had been shot by an arrow, he pulled it out, but the blood was just pouring.

Eredin rushed to him, his shoulder was bleeding, Aedan noticed that just now. His captain applied pressure on the wound, the younger man almost losing consciousness but he did not make a sound.

“Pouch at the back.” Eredin said and the young man reached there pulling a potion that the captain poured on his leg.

“Where is your horse?” Eredin asked.

He pointed back to the animal, heavy breathing suddenly filled the air, the horse was dying.

Eredin reached for his knife, but the young man stopped him. He stood up and walked to the animal. It wasn’t his first time when he had to do it, but it was never easier. He could drive his knife in a man’s heart while watching him in the eyes, he could never do that with a horse. The young man knelt, found the heart and pushed his knife in. It was quick and bloody.

“We need to move.” Eredin gave him his hand. “The rest should be south of here.”

“Never got used to the horses dying.” the young man walked like a drunk man, he had lost too much blood. “I’m okay with men dying, I don't like it, but I get over it. The horses get to me. I won’t be sad if you die lordling”

Eredin turned toward him with a raised eyebrow.

“No offence lordling, but why are you here? Daddy didn’t love you? Need something to brag to your lordly friends in Tir na Lia?” no answer. “I mean I appreciate the help and all, I probably would have bled to death but…”

“Do you ever shut up?” Eredin stopped and turned around. The young man stood in his place even. Aedan had to admire himself, knowing what he knew now about Eredin, he was lucky he was alive.

“No.” he finally answered with a smile.

“Fall in line. Or don’t. I don’t care. I can make you and I can break you, up to you.”

This was not your home. How did you get there, I see who you are, show me how you found the place. We don’t have time That presence again...they didn’t have time for...what?

Aedan opened his eyes, he walked through the portal, his whole body shaking from the jolt. He rubbed the ring on his left index finger, the gemstone missing.

He woke up.

As his consciousness started coming to him again he groaned, unable to move. His eyes were looking at an unfamiliar ceiling. He wanted to rub his forehead, maybe that will force the headache away, but as he tried to move his arm he felt it bound. He looked to where his hand was, his wrists were tied to the bedpost with ribbons. His brain was working now faster he looked around, he could not recognize the room. Stone walls, dark grey colour almost black in places? Bed in the center of the room, interesting choice, dresser in one end of the room. His shirt was gone, he had only his pants on, even his boots were gone. He tried to remember how he got himself in this situation but he couldn’t. Last thing he remembered was going trough a portal. He didn’t even recall where the portal led.

He pulled on the ribbons again with all his strength, he could see the veins on his arms filling with blood as he put all his power into it but as fragile as the bonds looked they did not move, just dug deeper in his skin.

“Welcome.” He didn't see the woman until she spoke, she was behind him and then walked around the bed. Aedan stared at her, she had a small frame, shorter than him, if he could stand up she would probably reach to his chest or below. Her hair was raven black falling down her back, a golden tiara placed on her head, her body was covered in a sheer black dress that was leaving nothing for his imagination. She moved with confidence he had seen in a few others. She wasn’t elf, but her features were not entirely human either, more elegant, more refined...more beautiful.

“I usually don’t complain when women tie me to a bed, but asking me first would have been nice.” he forced a smile on his lips, but he wasn’t really in a playful mood. Whoever she was, she tied him to that bed, and that ribbon was pure magic otherwise he would be able to tear it. What bothered him more was he couldn’t even remember himself being captured or even walking into that building, whatever it was. He remembered walking through the portal and then...nothing. He dreamt and he woke up here.

“I saw who you are.” she ran a finger over his forearm tracing one of the visible veins, she moved slowly to his biceps and then his shoulder. His body tensed, there was no malice in her action, if it wasn’t for the confusion he would probably even find it erotic, but he had to wonder how long before she pulled a knife.

“Do I need to pay extra for it?” Aedan pulled again on his restraints, the muscles on his shoulders tightening under her fingers, but the ribbons did not move. “I’m more fun with my hands free.”

“You are a beast.'' She moved her hand from his shoulder and traced a scar on the right side of his chest. “I saw how you fight.” her fingers reaching to the side of his ribcage and tracing the fine lines of his tattoo there, horse standing on its feet and breathing fire. “Is that your god?”

“No.” he looked around trying to find something that might help him.. There was a fountain in the furthest corner that he did not see before but he wasn’t sure where the water came from. “I think you owe me at least your name, given how helpless I am.”

“You have never been helpless, Aedan, even when you were bleeding in the woods and you needed your friend to help you. Or was he your enemy then? Hard to say with these memories.” the woman looked at him as she spoke, copper eyes pinned on his as if she was looking in his soul. Just now he realized it. The presence in his dreams, that was her. She was that voice in his head. “My name is Fay, I’m the Queen of this world.” He looked at her as she continued tracing his body, her small gentle fingers tracing another scar on his abdomen, until she stopped at his belt. “Why are you here?”

“You tell me, your highness, I’m tied to a bed” Aedan smiled in the way that always got him what he wanted and he could see the curiosity in her eyes.

“I don’t mean you.” she pointed at him. “I mean your kind. You are just the hunting dog, loyal, good at what it does.”

“If I am a dog, why are you looking at me the way you are?” He smiled at her again, but this time his eyes were not fixed on hers, he was looking at her body fully aware she knew what he was staring at. “Release me, I won’t hurt you. You have my word.”

“I saw what your kind does to other worlds.” she stepped closer to his head again. “You are here to conquer and take.”

“Not always.” it was true, they didn’t always do that, it just so happened he was a soldier and soldiers usually didn’t go on exploration. “A predator will always hunt a prey, no matter the prey. You don’t strike me as prey.” He wasn’t coy with her, she was half his size, but she probably knew magic that could unmake him.

“My people are.” That was the first time he sensed any emotion in her voice. It wasn’t fear, probably concern or something stronger. She cared. “If I free you, do you promise to leave my people alone.”

“Yes.” he couldn’t do that, in fact he had no idea if her people were of any interest to Eredin. He didn’t remember. He was going to cross that bridge when he came to it.

“If you are lying to me I will curse you.” she placed her hand on the ribbon over his wrist, her skin felt so warm. He wasn’t really lying. He wouldn’t hurt her people, now Eredin and the rest were a different story.

“What’s one more curse to the list?” he tugged on the restraints and he felt them lighter. He pulled again using all his strength and the ribbons tore, freeing his arms. Aedan pulled himself up and untied the ribbons around his feet and then he sat on the bed. The woman had stepped back watching him carefully. She was a witch that much he knew, he couldn’t kill her even if he wanted to. “What now, Your Highness?” he had no idea what to do...or where he was. He knew he had to find Eredin and the rest, but where? For all he knew they might not be here anymore. No. Eredin would not leave his men behind until he found at least a corpse.

“Do you want me?” Aedan almost choked as he heard her question. He wasn’t shy by any standard and it was not like the first time a woman asked him that, but a moment ago he was tied to a bed, now...and the confidence in her voice...no shyness, no embarrassment.

“Where is your king, Queen Fay?” he got up and stretched, his body felt as if he had been sleeping for days, it was good to feel his muscles. He stretched every single part on his torso, not failing to notice the way she watched him.

“Does a Queen need a King? I cannot rule over this place alone?” she stepped toward him, her voice harsh now, she found his words offensive and they were not meant as such.

“In my experience they go in pairs. Need? No. Can you rule alone? I’m sure you can, you tied me to that bed and you are half my size.” She was close enough to him and he touched her face, her skin softer than anything his fingers had caressed. “Kings have other uses.” He didn't care about that, he did not want to be stabbed in the back as he was too lost in his own pleasure. He placed his thumb on her lips, he wanted to kiss her. She was beautiful, but there was magic around her, something that attracted him in a way he could not explain. He had been in love a long time ago, that was not love, but it was an attraction like he had not felt.

“What if there is? I have seen your memories, you are not really worried about stepping on another man’s territory.” she wrapped her small fingers around his hand and pushed his thumb in her mouth, her tongue rubbing against his skin, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked.

“Never knowingly and I avoid it when I can.” That wasn’t a lie, there were things even he wouldn’t do.

Aedan pulled his hand away from her mouth and she looked at him confused. He didn’t give her a chance to think about it, his hands were at the collar for her dress, gripping it as hard as he could before he tore the fabric.

“Animal.” she hissed at him teasingly.

“You knew that before you asked.” he watched the torn dress fall at her feet, her body was absolute perfection. She reached for his belt but she grabbed her hand and pulled it away. “No, Highness, you have been playing games with me all day, it’s my turn.” Her head was barely reaching his shoulders. He grabbed her throat, but he didn’t squeeze, applied enough pressure to remind her he was there. Her eyes fixed on him with so much confidence, someone else in her place would be alarmed, her reaction excited him more than her naked figure. He could break her neck easily like that, so thin and fragile under his grip, she probably won’t even be able to cast a spell.

“I want you.” he watched every sound leave her mouth.

He leaned forward to kiss her deeply, stealing the air from her. She moaned as he pushed her a step back, and then another one, until her back hit the cold wall next to the door. Aedan might be losing himself but his instincts were still working for now. He turned her around, her hands pressing against the wall and her back against his already hard cock.

“I think you are about to beg.” she turned her head so she could see him but Aedan smiled. He could wait. He leaned forward and moved her long hair to the side revealing her thin neck and elegant shoulders. He placed a kiss just below her ear, one arm wrapping around her body, his hand easily finding her breast and pinching a nipple making her moan and jerk herself toward him. His fingers didn’t stop playing with her sensitive skin as his other hand found its way between her legs, feeling the wetness and the heat. He ran a finger over her clit, gently, easily until he pushed a finger in her, slowly circling inside, enough to allow her to feel him, but not enough to please.

“Is it me who turned you on?” he nipped on her neck leaving a red mark. “Or the thought that I am below you and I’m about to do you dirty?” he bit again, lower harder. Her copper eyes looked at him surprised. He knew she had seen who he was, just a random boy, he was no king, not a nobleman, he was even bad at helping his dad with the crops, no talent for this sort of work, just very good hunter and killer and now she was his prey.

He pulled his finger out of her moving back to her clit, he made soft circles until he felt her relax and then increased the pressure. She gasped, her nails scratching against the wall.

“His Highness must be negligent.” he whispered in her ear then bit the earlobe, his fingers dripping down to her entrance but he didn’t push it, just rubbed the wetness he found all over. “You are a mess, Your Highness.” he teased her, his fingers just circling her entrance until he finally pushed two of them inside. He felt her stretching, her body jerking in pleasure in his embrace. He wasn’t slow this time, but his pace was nowhere near what he thought would make her come in his arms. He constantly changed the pace, going from faster to slower, curling his fingers in her or just using them to stretch her further, she groaned in frustration and he smiled.

“You will pay for that.” she said as he pulled his fingers out of her. Aedan almost laughed as he moved his fingers back to her clit, but he moved slowly knowing that was not what she wanted.

He stepped away, she turned around looking at him angry, he was chuckling, he could kill for the look she was giving him.

“What is it, Your Highness?” He teased his, eyes drinking her flushed body, wanting to take her right now against the wall.

“Insolent…” he leaned forward and kissed her before she could finish. As he pulled from her she gasped for breath. “On your knees.”

Aedan looked at her with all the arrogance in his body, he obeyed, he was going to give her as much. His eyes fixed on hers as he went on his knees, she reached for his head, but he was not going to allow her that. He placed his hand on her stomach and pushed her against the wall, before she could understand what was happening he reached for her legs and lifted her with ease, placing her legs on his shoulders and pushing her against the wall. His mouth was just where his fingers had been a second ago. He was no longer in the mood for teasing, he licked a long stripe before his tongue started mercilessly working on and around her clit, his mouth sucking as his fingers dug in her flesh trying to keep her stable on his shoulders. Her fingers dig in his hair trying to maintain some control, but the pose did not allow her to do anything more than that. Aedan knew that frustrated her, but she was too far lost in her pleasure to complain. Her legs tighten around his head, he knew she was close but he didn’t stop, his tongue had found that one sweet stop and he was moving mercilessly as she came around him, body shaking as he increased his grip so she didn’t fall. He gave her a second to calm before he placed one final lick, her body shivering from the sensitivity. He let her step on the ground gently and he got up as well, towering over her small frame.

“You are absolute mess, Highness.” he reached to adjust the tiara on her head mockingly. “My mess.” his voice was husky and lit a fire in her eyes he had not seen yet, she slapped him. Aedan’s head turning to the side, more for dramatic effect rather than from her strength. He ran his finger through his jaw, then turned around bending down and lifting her up against the wall. “I will nail you to that wall.'' He moved one hand away, he was strong enough to support her with just one arm. He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants hall around his ankles. He didn’t give her a warning as he pushed his length in her, slowly, but her tightness and wetness around him was so much that he barely could control himself. He stopped halfway, looking in her eyes, making sure she was well. She had bitten her lips but her eyes were fixed on him pleading to go further. It was all he needed. He had no idea it was a spell or just her, but he couldn’t stop the most animalistic instincts in himself. He picked up a harsh rhythm, his fingers leaving bruises where they dug into her skin. As he found the right spot in her he moved faster and harder, her moans filling the room. He couldn’t get enough of the way he felt and the way she was just falling to pieces in his arms.

“Touch yourself highness.” he chuckled as he said that her eyes shooting him a surprised look. “It’s an order.” he said teasingly and stopped his move, his cock sheltered deep in her, but he did not move.

“Insolent dog.” she hissed at him.

“And I’m still balls deep in you.” he used again one hand to support her as he reached for hers, his large palm guiding her fingers where the two of them were connected. He waited. Her fingers started slowly circling around her clit. “Good girl.” He started moving in her again, as fast as he had been just a moment ago. Both of his hands back on her hips, holding her tight as his rhythm was becoming more uneven, his hips crashing against hers and pushing her to the wall. He was getting close and he could feel her fingers trying to get her faster over the edge. He felt her tighten around him, hard, he couldn’t control it anymore, his own orgasm hitting him with force, he came harder than he had in years, the whole room suddenly spinning as he had to put whatever little effort he had into holding her.

A moment passed and he stepped back, pulling out of her letting her legs step on the ground gently. Fay’s back was pressed against the wall, she was breathing heavily, her breast raising and falling with each gasp for air, the same way his chats and abs were moving as he was trying to even his breaths.

Aedan reached to pull his pants up when he felt a smirk.

“A pity.” she said as he was tightening his belt. “You are quite a sight without your pants.”

“First time is free, second time will cost you.” he chuckled. “Now I will need my shirt and my armor.” He didn’t mind a second time. Or a third. He had not felt so attracted to a woman in very long time, even if in this case it was only physical.

She just smiled and walked to the nearby dresser, slowly opening it, his eyes not leaving her naked shape. She wrapped herself in a robe and tossed something at him. His shirt. He put it on, wondering where the rest of his things were. Sword, knife, bow, armor…

“So business-like.” she turned toward him with a teasing smile. “And you were all charm prior to that.”

“I’m still charming. I’m just not stupid.” he knew whatever that was it was just a game. A good game, he liked it, but he had to find a way out of here, and she had to do whatever she had to do. No pint to lie to himself even if sex had been good and he liked the little dominance dance they did. Maybe if there were next time he would allow her to tie him again. He wanted to see her small body move as she fucked herself on him.

“Come.” she made a sign with her hand for him to follow as she walked to the random fountain in the room. “If you look into it, you can see your future.”

“I prefer surprises.” Despite his words he looked down. It wasn’t really curiosity that drove him, more like someone saying look and you feel the need to look. He saw a stone wall, a room, not familiar, he had never seen this place, a man with a sword in front of him, Aedan flicked his knife in hand. The vision vanished.

“This is where you die.” she said, concern in her face. “Hundreds of years from now.”

“We all will die one day, if it’s a sword that kills me, so be it.” He had made his peace with that a long time ago. He wrote his goodbye letter to his father when he was just a month in the cavalry, a stupid kid, at that point not even sure how a naked woman looked like, but he wrote his last words, they had not changed much since then even if he revised the letter every year or so.

“You can stay here, just the two of us.” she placed a hand on his chest, her touch bringing back memories of what they did just minutes ago. His eyes looked at the bed behind her. His thought was interrupted by the sound of horses. “Your friends found you it seems.” She looked at him and she looked at the window. Aedan wasn’t sure what to do. Grab her? Just wait and see how that played out?

Steps followed, the door opened, Ciaran walked in first, sword in hand, Eredin followed. His general lifted his sword and pointed it at Fay, she wasn’t moving, she wasn’t a threat, but Eredin did it all the same.

“Aedan.” The dark haired man greeted him. “I see you are alive. Want to introduce us?”

“You are not welcome in my home soldier.” Fay spoke before he could even open his mouth.

“You have something that belongs to me.” Eredin pointed at Aedan with his sword; it wasn’t a threat just making sure they were all clear where they stood. “You also killed two of my men.”

Aedan looked at her confused, two of his men? A memory came to him, he was in the woods, scouting, there were two others with him, yes. A bright light, so bright that everything turned black. Then he woke up in the bed. Yes, there were two others with him. She killed them?

“He is lying.” Fay turned to Aedan, her eyes pleading with him. “I never saw your men. Someone else did it.”

“She is a witch.” someone spoke but Aedan couldn’t recognize the voice, it was all the same.

“You can stay here. Stay with me.” she ran a hand down her body, over her breast and stopped at her belly. “You will not lose your head here.”

“No.” Aedan took a step back, it was probably the second hardest thing he had done in his life. He saw Eredin chuckle, a knife flew out of somewhere, Fay disappeared in front of him, a bunch of black feathers spread in the air as if a pillow was opened, but the woman was gone without a trace as if she was never in the room.

“Damn it.” someone swore but all he could do was watch the father as he grabbed one. Raven feathers.

“Aedan.” Eredin was now in front of him, he never noticed the man moving. “You are drugged.” his general said as he held his jaw with a hand and turned his head left to right. “What happened?”

“I…” he couldn’t tell him what happened, that would be awkward. He went for the next thing he remembered. “I don’t recall.”

“You were gone for two days.” was that concern in Eredin’s voice. “You don't remember anything?” Aedan shook his head. He really did not remember anything that happened today. He looked at the feather. Beside that. He remembered that.

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skylarmoon71 · 4 years ago

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Bumblebee x Reader (Transformers)- Chapter 4

“Did I oversleep again?”

You squint, raising your head from your pillow. You almost jumped at the sight of the Autobot sitting in your room.

“B-Bee!”

You covered your mouth when you realized how loudly you said that. Running to the door, you locked it before turning back to him.

“W-What are you doing, how did you even get in with no one seeing.”

Looking out the open window, you realized it was still pretty dark. You just sighed. He was sitting with his legs pulled to a side. Because of his size, and the lack of room, there wasn’t much space for him to spread out.

“I missed you sport.” you couldn't be mad after he said that. It was only a weekend and he was already lonely.

“I’m surprised Sam never notices when you sneak away. Then again he’s probably used to it by now.”

Bumblebee was just sitting attentively, looking at you with those curious blue eyes. Now that he was just staring at you, it made you a little self conscious. You hadn’t exactly prepared for his arrival. All you had on was a tank top and a pair of shorts. You tugged at the shirt, looking down at your feet nervously.

“(Y/N).” you looked up at the sound of his call. He held out his hand for you. Stepping forward a bit hesitant, you took his hand. He guided you to the spot right between his legs, and you followed, sitting down. With your back to his chest, you tried to keep your eyes forward. Your nerves were on end.

“Bee you...when did you get your voice fixed?” you needed to make some type of conversation to keep your mind occupied, that seemed like the best topic. He sounded so different when he said your name, with no help from the radio it appeared.

“Ratchet has been helping me, do you like it?” you nod, turning slightly to look up at him.

“Mhmm, it suits you.” He sounded like a regular teenager. Yet still slightly mature.

“I’ve been learning a lot of things while you’ve been away (Y/N).” you raised a brow.

“Really, like what ?”

“Like the way humans interpret things compared to us. On cybertron we form bonds through our spark. It connects us. “ He pointed to his chest.

“Physically, we don’t have a heart, so there are still a few parts that I’m trying to understand. Like pain, pleasure..” you swallowed. Was it just you or did he say that part pretty seductively.

“O-Oh, well that’s r-really cool Bee.”

Why were you getting so worked up, you were imagining things. There’s no way that Bumblebee was trying to come unto you. That was ridiculous.

“Can I ask you a question (Y/N)?”

“Yeah sure, hit me.”

“Can I touch you?” you almost choked.

“T-T-Touch me!”

His hand came down, metal fingers resting on your knee. You were so small compared to him. The thought of him touching your body didn’t scare you, more like it excited you. That’s what sort of scared you.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“N-No of course not, it’s just that I-I...well I..” you stammered, not sure how to phrase it.

“You’ve never been touched by anyone.” your cheeks burned. You weren’t sure how to deal with your embarrassment, so you just buried your face into his chest plates, nodding slowly. A deep chuckle echoed throughout the room, and hell it was definitely the sexist thing you’d ever heard.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m kind of relieved. Lately just being with you doesn't seem like enough. I can't stop thinking about you. Your eyes, hair, lips..” His tone sends you into a small stir. It's so entrancing.

“Bee..”

Where did this side of him come from?

“Yes.” you gripped at his arm. Closing your eyes.

“Y-You can.”

“I can, what?” He was obviously teasing.

“Touch me. I want you to touch me Bee..” His engine reeved slightly.

The hand that reached down and slid between your thighs had your head spinning. Your fingers were digging into the metal of his hand as you tried to remain calm. You whimpered slightly. With your already lacking clothing, you could feel everything. His fingers were cold, but the moment it touched your most sensitive area, your entire body set aflame. Bumblebee was watching, studying every little sound you made, quick breath you took. He was getting pretty heated himself. Your breathless expression was so arousing. He wanted more, needed more. His free hand groped your chest softly and you moaned out his name.

“This is incredible.” He whispers. You were shaking in pleasure with every stroke of his hand to your core. You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle your moans.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to keep it in (Y/N), I want to hear you. Does it feel good?”

It felt amazing. If only you could put that into words. You settle for a half nod.

“I love you like this (Y/N), you’re so submissive it’s adorable.”

Another helpless whimper left your lips as you bucked.

“Bee...Bee..Bee!”

You gasped, rolling unto the floor with a thud.

Looking up, your eyes were wide.

“N-No way…” you did not just do that.

“Oh shit.”

You had a wet dream, about Bumblebee.

“I’m screwed. “

That you were.

~~~~~

Waking up the next morning was a struggle. You twisted and turned in bed, and at the end, you only managed to get two hours of sleep. The blaring alarm clock on your dresser made you groan, rolling over.

“I really hate school.” This was the worst way to start Monday morning. Standing up begrudgingly, you started your morning routine, dreading what was about to await you.

~~~~

“What’s got you so cranky.” you turned to your friend, opening your eyes a bit wider and she just started laughing. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks, what happened?”

“Had a weird dream.” There was no way you were going to tell her you had a sexual dream about your alien robot friend who you were hopelessly crushing on.

“Stop watching those crime shows before you go to sleep. I keep telling you but you never listen."

If only she knew.

With a long sigh, you gripped your bag, pulling it over your shoulder. At least school was over. You barely made it through the first period. If not for the nap you took at lunch, you would have been out the rest of the day. Walking in step with your friend, your eyes drifted to the yellow vehicle parked outside your school.

“Hey (Y/N)!”

The window rolled down, and Sam grinned at you. Mikaela was in the passenger seat, wearing a smile of her own.

“Hey guys what’s up?”

The both of you went to different high schools, so it wasn’t unusual for him to stop by every now and then.

“Bee was getting a bit impatient, so I decided to just come pick you up.” Your heart skipped. Your friend nudge your hand with a smile, in which you returned with an eye roll.

“See you later (Y/N)~” She really did remind you of your mother sometimes. You waved her off, opening the door as you slid into the seat. The door closed and Sam pulled off. The conversation was light, you added in a word every now and then just to let them know you were invested, but your mind was elsewhere. You slumped a little in the seat. Just staying awake in class was a challenge. You were exhausted.

“Can I touch you (Y/N)..”

Your eyes flew open. You couldn’t even close your eyes anymore. You folded your hands on your lap, trying to steady your breath.

“Don’t make a scene, calm down, calm down.”

“You alright back there?” Sam watched you from the rear view mirror. Mikaela turned, and you were positive she noticed the flush in your cheeks. “I...I..” you couldn’t even speak properly.

“It's a girl problem isn’t it?” Mikaela interrupted. You were confused for a second, but the look she sent you, you knew she understood what was happening somehow.

“Y-Yeah, these cramps are torture.” Sam grimaced. “Enough said. Bee, step on it.” He didn’t even question it. You smiled at Mikaela appreciatively, mouthing your thanks.

The ride went by faster, and when you stepped out of the car, Mikaela followed. “I’m gonna help (Y/N) Sam.” He nodded. “Do what you gotta do.” You could tell he just didn’t want the details. It was funny how childish he was when it came to that stuff. She kissed him goodbye.

“B-Bye Bee.” you mumbled.

“Later.” you didn’t need to be a genius to know he was disappointed. He was obviously looking forward to spending the evening with you. All that was running through your mind, there was no chance that would happen. You could barely survive a car ride, you weren’t sure you could sit through a conversation with him without those images flashing in your head. Opening your front door, you headed straight for your room, Mikaela behind you trailing silently. Inside your room felt like your own little safe space, and the moment you dropped your bag, she was watching you with a smirk.

“Okay spill, tell me everything.”

“W-What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, you were blushing in the car, and I’m one hundred percent sure it wasn’t because of Sam. “

So she did realize. You were honestly praying she would assume you were crushing on Sam.

“Would you believe me if I said he’s kind of cute?”

She looked unimpressed. “Nice try, now spill. “

You fell backwards on the bed covering your face.

Mikaela’s face lit up. “Oh my goodness you have a thing for Bumblebee!”

“Shhh not so loudly!” you almost fell off the bed for the second time that day.

“You have to tell him, I can tell him if you want.”

“No! No one’s saying anything especially after that dream I had.”

Shit.

“Oh..my goodness.” Mikaela mouthed. You groaned.

“You had a dirty dream about him!!”

“AHHH!! Would you keep your voice down woman!!”

There was a whole lot of talking after that. The biggest reason behind your fear of anyone finding out was more because you thought they would judge you. Bumblebee was a robot, yet to you he just felt so human like that you barely paid mind to the rough exterior. He didn’t even have a beating heart, but he held the power to make yours go into overdrive with just a look. You were hopelessly in love with him.

How would you hide that?

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mysticalnightenthusiast · 3 years ago

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S.N.A.F.U CH42 ‘SURPRISE!’

Due to their physical activities the evening before Eadaoin didn’t wake when Daniel rose the following morning, she woke just before lunchtime before venturing downstairs and meeting Tiffany Valtteri’s girlfriend in the lobby, the pair of women then ventured into the centre of Austin for a bit of shopping. Daniel was busy all day with media and team commitments but still managed to check in on her with text messages and mini videos of what he was up to, it was then with some surprise just after five o’clock Eadaoin returned to the hotel, laden down with bags to find Daniel in their room a towel wrapped low around his hips having obviously just gotten out of the shower.

“You’re back!” she exclaimed in surprise dumping her bag on the end of their bed and kissing him soundly on the lips “I wasn’t expecting you to get back before me.”

“My last thing for the day ended a little earlier than I was expecting,” the curly haired Australian replied cheerfully “I do have another small thing to do in an hour or so but that should only take a few minutes.”

“Another media thing?” Eadaoin enquired as she dug through one of the bags she had brought back with her.

“More PR,” Daniel replied easily “then we can head out to dinner, Pippa booked us a table at my favourite restaurant and live music venue, you’re going to love it darling I know you are.”

“I saw something today and I immediately thought of you,” Eadaoin said eyeing him up and down and licking her lips lasciviously her gaze lingering on his semi-erect cock as he dropped the towel around his waist and headed for the dresser drawer “so I bought it. Would you like to see what it is?”

Daniel noticed how she was looking at him and winked.

“Can I at least put some pants on first?” he asked.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Eadaoin said beckoning to him salaciously with a singular index finger “come heeere.”

Daniel made his over to her and jumped slightly as she grasped his cock and slid her lips over the head and down the shaft.

“Ahhhhhhhhh!” he moaned “oh god that feels gooooood!”

“Been wanting to do this all day,” Eadaoin purred a line of saliva connecting her mouth with his hardness “I just about had to go buy some new knickers you were making me so wet.”

“How?” Daniel exclaimed in surprise as she pumped him agonizingly slowly “I left before you woke up this morning and I literally didn’t see you all day.”

“HmmmmMpph....you didn’t need to see me to make me wet.” Eadaoin replied flicking the head of his cock with the tip of her tongue “just the texts, the selfies....”

“None of which were sexuaohjesusfuck!”

Daniel was cut off mid sentence at the precise moment she decided to swallow him whole, the tip of her nose just touching his muscular abdomen. He grabbed her hair roughly and thrust into her mouth, a deep feeling of anticipation settling in his stomach.

“Keep doing that and I’m not gonna be able to control myself!” he groaned as she slurped at him with unrestrained enthusiasm “god your mouth looks good on my cock, oh yeah that’s it UGH!”

Daniel grabbed Eadaoin’s ponytail and fucked her mouth right to the point of climaxing, he then yanked her up, pushed her against the dresser, pulled up her dress and yanked aside her knickers before thrusting himself into her.

“You’re a fucking tease,” he snarled in her ear fucking her with as much force as he could muster “so fucking wet for me, did you touch yourself today huh?”

“N-gh-no,” she choked out “c-could-n’t get t-time ‘lone. Would r-ather y-you t-ouch me.”

Daniel reached down and slapped Eadaoin’s clit.

“Gonna make you scream baby,” he groaned in her ear “you gonna come around me?”

Eadaoin arched her back which caused her to sink further onto him.

“Ug huh,” she moaned “fuck me Dan, fill me up babe,”

The words slipping from her lips was enough to turn Daniel into an animalistic predator. He fucked Eadaoin with every ounce of his being grabbing her hips and biting her collarbone in a way he knew would leave obvious bruises in a few hours. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she came, her climax hitting her so hard she lost the ability to stand up under her own power. Daniel grabbed her hips even harder with one hand and continued his assault on her clit with the other.

“C’mon baby one more time for me,” he groaned as he felt his own moment near “I haven’t seen you alllllll daaaaaay.”

“Noooooo I caaaan’t!” Eadaoin moaned as she tried to writhe away from him “too sens-sitive!”

“You-can-do-it-sweetheart,” Daniel breathed in her ear as the lamp and Eadaoin’s handbag fell from the dresser fell onto the carpeted floor “just one more time Darling for me?”

Once, twice and the third swipe of his fingers on her sensitive nub was enough to send Eadaoin over the edge again, she climaxed violently and feeling her peak was enough for Daniel to follow her over the edge, he released into her with a deep guttural groan, thrusting into her lazily as he came down from his own high.

“Oh d-darling that w-was-out of th-is world!” he heaved once he had recovered enough to speak “can you stand up on your own?”

The sassy redhead wordlessly shook her head, unable to vocalise her response. Daniel gently wrapped his arms around her waist and held her securely as he slipped from her, she groaned as the feeling of fullness disappeared and their combined release poured out of her and down her legs.

“Fucking hell housekeeping are going to kill us,” he joked leaning down and gently picking her up “are you sore?”

“Little, y’bit me,” Eadaoin replied slowly reaching up to her collarbone to where he had bitten her in a moment of passion “fucking hell, you bit me! Who are you and what did you do with Daniel Ricciardo?”

Daniel couldn’t help it and laughed

“Sorry I got a bit carried away,” he said sheepishly taking her into the bathroom “and now I need another shower.”

Daniel set Eadaoin down on the ledge of the shower and turned the water on.

“That was out of this world,” Eadaoin said in a quiet voice trembling slightly as Daniel began washing her lovingly “I’ve never lost my mind like that before. I swear I passed out.”

“Nah you were with me all the time,” he said pouring some of her favourite body wash onto a puff and rubbing her body with it “I would have stopped if you had passed out.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to go out tonight,” Eadaoin said a few minutes later, leaning into his touch as he rubbed shampoo into her hair “I’m always knackered after we make love.”

Daniel felt a slight panic rise in his chest at her words.

“Aw darling you have to come out tonight, Michael and Blake want to catch up, they haven’t seen you in weeks, plus there’s brisket!” he said “neck a Red Bull and that’ll perk you up.”

“I’m going to have to; I barely have the energy to sit up!” Eadaoin exclaimed with a giggle “you didn’t fuck me that hard in St Tropez, and we had sex last night too!”

“Eh something about you flips a switch,” Daniel said gently rinsing her hair “how are you feeling now?”

“Better,” Eadaoin relied slowly standing up “thanks for looking after me.”

Daniel pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“That’s alright darling,” he said softly.

Daniel and Eadaoin spent another half an hour under the scalding water then got out and began getting ready for their night out. Eadaoin was in the bathroom finishing off her hair when Daniel’s phone rang flashing the caller I.D ‘P.A EXTRAORDINAIRE!” grinning, he picked up the device and answered it.

“Hello?” he said cheerfully.

“Hey Danny it’s Pip,” Pippa said “I’m here in Donnacha, Roisin and Cahir’s suite. Can I bring them upstairs yet?”

“Give it ten minutes, Eadie’s just finishing her hair,” Daniel said “I’ll make up some excuse why we’re not leaving for dinner straight away okay?”

“You got it kiddo, see you soon.”

Daniel hung up and made his way into the bathroom where Eadaoin was brushing her hair into a high ponytail.

“You’re glowing,” he said watching her twist an elastic around her hair.

“Yeah well that’s because you fucked me into next week isn’t it?” she reasoned with a wry smile “I still feel sensitive down there you know. We might need to lay off the hanky panky til after the race on Sunday.”

“I didn’t mean to be so rough on you,” Daniel said apologetically.

“Babe stop apologising, that was literally the best sex I’ve ever had, I’m not complaining,” Eadaoin informed him with a giggle “to be honest it was a huge turn on you being rough and animalistic.”

“Maybe after the race we can explore that a bit more,” Daniel suggested with a grin “though part of the allure was the spontaneity.”

“I’m down for whenever it happens next,” Eadaoin informed him as she applied a little dusky rose lipstick to her lips “How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” Daniel replied tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear “my phone rang while you were drying your hair, Michael and Blake are ten minutes away, when they get here we can head off.”

“Good I’m starving,” Eadaoin replied as she made her way back into their bedroom “I’m almost as enthusiastic about brisket tonight as you are.”

Daniel couldn’t help it and laughed heartily

“Worked up an appetite then?” he said cheekily smacking her backside “so what were you going to give me before we got carried away?

“Oh I forgot!” Eadaoin exclaimed as she made her way over to the pile of bags she had brought home from town “here...”

Eadaoin retrieved a small and worn velvet ring box from one of the bags and held it out to him. He took it with a raised eyebrow and a smirk

“Is this how you planned to propose?” he asked.

Eadaoin rolled her eyes.

“I’m not proposing,” he said dryly “if I was going to do that it’d be in entirely more romantic circumstances.”

Daniel fixed her with a curious look then opened the box and immediately laughed inside the box was a gold men’s signet ring with ‘Let’s Fuck’ engraved on the face.

“Let’s fuck?” he said with a snort “where did you find this?”

“In an antique store right in the middle of the city,” Eadaoin replied with a grin taking the ring and slipping it onto the ring finger of his right hand “it fits too, d'you like it?”

Daniel grinned.

“I love it,” he said “I’m going to wear it all the time.”

“Oh don’t do that, someone will take a pic of you wearing it, the fan girls will blow it up and you’ll be a fandom meme,” Eadaoin told him “just wear it once in a while when you’re feeling cheeky.”

“If you’re around I always feel cheeky darling,” Daniel informed her with a wink.

A few minutes later a knock came at the suite door.

“I need you to put this over your eyes,” Daniel said handing Eadaoin one of his apparel shirts.

“What? Why?” the redhead asked in confusion.

“Because that knock at the door is the next part of your birthday present and it’s rather bulky and I don’t want you to see it before I bring it into the room,” Daniel said “please darling?”

Eadaoin rolled her eyes and sighed.

“You’re the only person I would do this for,” she said in amused exasperation as she folded the shirt into a blindfold “I usually prefer to wear a blindfold in slightly more salacious circumstances.”

“Well maybe we can explore that line of entertainment later tonight when we go to bed,” Daniel suggested as he helped her affix the blindfold to her head “okay stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Daniel left Eadaoin sitting on the end of the bed and made his way out into the main part of the suite; he hurried to the door and looked through the peep hold before opening it to Pippa standing with Donnacha, Roisin and Cahir. He immediately held a finger to his lips.

“Hey hey,” he said in a low voice “shh shh she’s in the bedroom, come through.”

“I’ll see you at the restaurant,” Pippa told her charge.

“Thanks Pip!”

“Has she twigged yet?” Cahir asked in a whisper.

“Nope she has no idea,” Daniel responded with a grin leading the trio further into the suite “wait here, I’ll go get her.”

Daniel left Donna Roisin and Chair in the middle of the suit and slipped into the bedroom to get Eadaoin.

“Darling your present is ready,” he said gently grasping her hand and helping her to her feet “you ready to open it?”

“Is it something lascivious?”

“Nope definitely not, come on.”

Daniel led Eadaoin from the bedroom and out into the suite, he shut the door behind them then positioned the redhead in front of her family.

“You ready?” he asked excitedly.

“You sound more excited about this present than I do,” Eadaoin said dryly.

“Are you ready?”

“I am.”

Daniel reached up behind Eadaoin’s head an unknotted the t-shirt blindfold. Eadaoin opened her eyes and her gaze immediately fell on her family. It took a nanosecond but then her jaw fell open her hands flew to her mouth and she let out a screech of recognition.

“MAM?” she screeched “DAD? CALLY?”

The redhead immediately burst into tears and leapt into the arms of her father the elder O’Siodhachain lifted his daughter up and engulfed her in a crushing hug

“Ó a chailín, is maith an rud é tú a fheiceáil!(Oh baby girl its so good to see you!)” he murmured his voice muffled by her hair.

Daniel’s eyes welled with tears as he watched his girlfriend reunite with her family, he dabbed at his yes with a tissue and watched as Eadaoin released her father then dove into her mother’s arms.

“Ó a Dhia chaill mé thú! (Oh god I’ve missed you!)” She whimpered tears pouring down her cheeks “Tá an méid sin caillte agam (I’ve missed you so much!)”

Eadaoin dove into Cahir’s arms next

“Tá an méid sin caillte agam! Fiú tú, tú doofus mór!” (I’ve missed you so much, even you you big doofus!)

“What are you all doing here?” Eadaoin asked incredulously after several long minutes of reunion greetings “oh my god I can’t believe you’re here! This is unbelievable!”

“You tell the story,” Daniel said in a thick voice as Donnacha looked at him.

“About a month ago Daniel rang us and said he wanted to surprise you for your birthday,” Donnacha began “he said he could have bought you your own McLaren or fancy piece of jewellery but he wanted to gift you something lasting, something that would be meaningful and he decided that would be reuniting us here in Austin. He paid our way over here. We’ve been in the States for a few days. We did some touristy stuff in Los Angeles first and got to Austin late this morning.”

Eadaoin strode over to Daniel and engulfed him in a hug.

“Thankyou,” she whispered tears pouring down her cheeks “thankyou thankyou thankyou!”

Daniel swiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb and pressed his lips to hers.

“Happy birthday darling,” he murmured returning her hug “I couldn’t think of what else to get you.”

“This is the best present ever!” Eadaoin informed him.

Eadaoin didn’t let Daniel go for several minutes, she then released him her eyes red and swollen from crying so much.

“This is the best birthday ever!” she exclaimed happily “I don’t know who to hug first! How long can you stay?”

“Well we figured we’d follow you and Danny back to London,” Cahir informed his sister “well you anyway, he said after the race you and he are going to kick back in Austin and L.A while he does some media PR for a few days so we figured we’d stay with you and keep you company when he’s doing what he needs to then we all go back to London when he heads to Mexico for the GP there.”

“And after that?”

“I’ve taken indefinite long service leave so I figured I’d stay in London til at least the New Year,” Cahir replied cheerfully.

“We can stay and watch the Brazil GP with you then we have to head home,” Roisin added wiping her eyes with a scrunched up handkerchief “though if you and Cahir are going to stay in the UK for Christmas we figured we’d come back over for Christmas.”

“That long?” Eadaoin replied clapping happily “oh that’s great!”

“What are you doing for Christmas honey?” Roisin asked Daniel.

“I’m not sure yet,” Daniel replied honestly “I don’t know if the government’s COVID restrictions will allow me to go home for Christmas at this point. If they don’t I’ll stay in London and spend the holiday season with Eadie and if they do I’ll probably go home and do what I did last year and spend a few weeks at the farm.”

“If your folks can spare the time away from the farm we should have a huge Christmas together,” Eadaoin suggested “that would be the best Christmas ever!”

“I’ll suggest it to them when I talk to them after the race on Sunday,” Daniel said “so shall we head out to dinner? I’m taking you to the best Brisket and live music venue in Texas!”

Eadaoin rolled her eyes as he began speaking in a sharp southern drawl.

“The accent?” she said “really? You’ve been doing it since we landed in New York last week.”

“So shall we hit the town?” Cahir suggested “Pippa said this restaurant she’s booked us into is the best Brisket joint in Austin.”

“It is,” Daniel said cheerfully as he led the way out of the suite “all the team personnel go there at some point during race week, we’re meeting Pip, Michael my trainer and Blake my manager there and it’s likely we’ll see other drivers there.”

“Dad and Cally are trying so hard not to fangirl about that right now,” Eadaoin teased as they made their way out into the hallway “they might faint if we run into Max or Lando tonight.”

“Oh shut up,” Cahir groused.

“Well Lando you’ll meet at the track during the Practice, qually and race days and Max you’ll definitely see Sunday night because he’s coming along to Edie’s party,” Daniel said with a grin “I’ll have a word to him and see if I can get some signed Red Bull merch for ya.”

“You keep saying shit like that Dad’s going to ask you to marry him,” Eadaoin joked as they headed for the lift.

“Ó nach mise, coinnigh leanbh ciúin! (Oh I am not, keep quiet child!)” Donnacha said blushing the same colour as his hair.

“So you get to drive Earnhardt Snr’s Chev on the weekend,” Cahir said to Daniel as they travelled down to the lobby “I bet you’re tripping major nutsack about that.”

Daniel lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Oh yeah,” he said excitedly “more than the race itself if I’m being totally honest. The final prep is being done on the car now and on Saturday afternoon between FP one and two I take it on a hot lap. I’m literally a little kid in a lolly shop. Sky are filming a segment on it too so it’ll be on permanent record. I’ve driven Senna’s last world championship McLaren and I’m about to drive Earnhardt Snr’s Chev, only got to win a world driver’s championship and I could quite literally happily retire.”

“Would you even if you won the title next year?” Donnacha asked in surprise.

“If it happened next year, nah, I love driving and if the passion stays alive I could see myself in the game as long as Kimi’s been in it,” Daniel replied “the minute the passion disappears I’m going to retire and sit on the couch getting fat.”

“Would you stay in F1 in some capacity when you do eventually retire?” Roisin asked in interest.

“Maybe?” Daniel replied “it would depend on what opportunities are out there. I can easily see myself going home to the farm and breeding beef cattle, Merino sheep and Alpacas like Mum and Dad do or staying in Europe and flipping houses for fun. Or who knows I might move to the boonies and start an etsy shop selling dog bandanas with swear words on them.”

Eadaoin let out a snort of laughter

“You ought to add dog bandanas to your website shop,” she suggested, slipping an arm around his waist “they’d be great to add to the Enchante range, they could have French swear words on them!”

Daniel grinned.

“I’ll put it to my marketing team,” he suggested brushing his lips against the top of her head as they arrived in the hotel lobby “but for now its Brisket time!”

#F1 #DanielRiccardoFanfiction

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negandarylsatisfaction · 4 years ago

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[SUMMARY: Negan deals with Lucilles r*pe.]

TW: mention of r*pe, aggressive assault

Fluffy smut

Negan and Lucille.

Negan walked in after being gone most of the night, his shirt bloody, his face and hands filled with blood.

“You’ve been out for a long time.” You spoke softly as he turned to you, his bat in his hand. You could see the pieces of flesh hanging off it, it always disgusted you.

“I had to take care of something.” He responded coldly making you sigh.

“I hate when you do this stuff, was it really necessary?”

Negan looked down at the bat before taking a deep breath and throwing it to the side.

“Lucille, baby..I have to do what I have to do to protect us from what’s out there. I’d rather be safe than sorry.” You looked away from not agreeing with what he had been doing lately.

“I’m just afraid you might come across someone...with more defense than we can handle. I-“

“We are not handling anything. I am and I told you not to worry about it. End of discussion.” Negan left to the bedroom to clean up and change. He seemed to think he was invincible when he was out there and you were always worried about something happening to him.

The two of you sat together to eat dinner after he cleaned up. There were no words exchanged and he knew why, he knew how you felt about the bat. You hated the day he ever made the damn thing. After you both finished you stood up to clean the table when he stood up beside you and pulled you in against him.

“Come here.” He whispered holding you close.

“You know I don’t like it when you stay mad at me.” You looked up at him and sighed before you got distracted with something on his face.

“What is it?” He frowned noticing the changed look in your eyes.

“You...you still have blood on your face.” You turned away from him picking up the plates and taking it to the sink.

“Lucille you know why I have to do this.”

“No actually. I don’t. So many groups you come across, you’re not afraid of it backfiring one day? Someone following you back here?”

“If someone breaks the damn rules, I need to do what has to be done. If not, these as shoes will take advantage.” He began to raise his voice only angering you.

“No it doesn’t have to be done-“

“So do you expect me to let other assholes kill our men one by one, you want to give them that chance?”

“There’s other ways this can be handled, Negan.”

“Listen baby, just leave this to me.”

Constantly you were afraid of who Negan could come across. He never give you much information on what happened when he left the sanctuary as he knew you didn’t like hearing it and he didn’t want to worry you.

A couple days later you over heard a few of the men speaking about Negan making something even. The sound of it made you nervous, the men hadn’t seen you at the top steps over hearing their conversation.

A little while later Negan came back into the bedroom as you brushed your hair. He kissed you gently on the cheek as he took off his leather jacket before you caught him off guard with a question.

“Where are you going tomorrow?”

He slowed down looking over at you confused.

“Did someone say I was going somewhere?” You knew he wasn’t being honest and you didn’t have the patience for it.

“What do you have to make even, Negan?” You asked as you stood up turning to him.

“Woah woah woah, who said I was getting even with anyone?”

“Negan.” You placed your hands on your hips as he frowned staring down at you.

“Who told you something, Simon?”

“No one told me anything, Negan. I’m not deaf I hear things around me.” He sighed looking away, he didn’t want you to know of this, he didn’t want you to worry.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Damn it, Negan I’m tired of this already. I just want to be at peace with you here with me. I’m constantly worried about something happening to you.” Negan looked down at you gently taking your face in his hands.

“Baby don’t you know you’re with a man that knows how to handle shit. I’m here every night with you but in order to keep it that way I have to keep others away. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded knowing he was only trying to protect his life with you. You hated how he went about it but what more could you say?

The next day you watched as your husband and his men packed their belongings. He promised he would be back tonight but gave you no other information about the situation.

He leaned in for a kiss before hopping in the truck and being driven off with Simon.

Negan had faced many different people, they all feared him and he drove off their fear, until he met this last group. This last group was giving him more trouble than the others, they had actually killed two of his men from another campsite. Negan had never told you this as he didn’t want to upset you, but attempting to get even he was only able to kill one man from their side. He made a promise he would return to kill another.

An hour had now passed since Negan left, he left one guard at the entrance named Benny to be on watch. He knew he wouldn’t be gone long. But Benny didn’t realize they were already being watched by two men apart of the very group Negan was going after. For the past couple of weeks the sanctuary had been under close observation. They studied the sanctuary figuring out a way inside without going through the entrance. They saw Negan and they would see you. At first you weren’t of importance to these men but as they watched they realized you were someone important to Negan.

You were now their target.

The sun was going down now as you looked out the window, you sat on the corner of the bed in your favorite pink silk robe Negan had found for you. You thought to yourself how things were and how long they were going to be this way. Taking a deep breath feeling relaxed you had no idea the men had made their ways in. They knew exactly where to find you. As one of the men waited by the entrance of where you stayed to keep watch, the other man slowly snuck his way inside. You heard the floor of the hall creek making you quickly look up before brushing it off turning towards your dresser. Your door was half open making it easy for the man to sneak inside your room without making a sound. Humming to yourself, your back was to the door as the man pulled out a knife slowly getting closer to you. Again you heard the sound of the floor creek behind you making you frown in confusion.

“Negan?” You turned and before you could scream a man charged towards you covering your mouth and pointing a knife to your face.

“I’ve been waiting for this.” The man had a black ski mask on and all you could see was his piercing dark eyes. You whimpered as he slid the knife down to your neck and looked down at what you were wearing. A sadistic smile forming on his face.

“This is nice.” He pealed one side of your robe aside with the knife as you began to cry making him look back up at you.

“Shut up.”

“Please-“ you cried with his hand still over your mouth making him laugh before he slowly let go just to hear you beg.

“Why are you doing this?” You whispered in tears.

“Why? Well your husband...see..he did something that pissed me off. He killed someone that was...important to me.”

The man explained that Negan had killed his cousin. Yet, this man was not honest on why Negan had ever killed one of them in the first place. You had no idea these people had butchered two of your very own from the other campsite. You closed your eyes as the tears fell from them, you knew this day would come. You knew eventually someone would make their way back to get even with your husband.

“Just...don’t let me turn...kill me in a way that my husband won’t have to find me..like that.” You whispered when he tilted his head in a confused manner.

“Who said I was gonna kill you?”

You opened your eyes confused looking up at him.

“I’m gonna hurt your husband in the worst way I can.” He began to laugh before suddenly turning you around and slamming your face against the wall, you felt him pushing your robe up and you began to panic.

“No please! Please don’t this this!” You fought as hard as you could turning back to him before he smacked you in the face. You screamed as he pulled you by the hair and threw you face first on the bed. You cried trying to get up when he suddenly put his arm around your throat and you felt the tip of the knife against your skin.

“You’re gonna do what I say unless you want me to wait patiently here for that husband of yours to return so I can kill him myself. Do you want him dead? It’s your choice.” You shook your head in tears knowing what this meant. He threw you back down on the bed as you heard him begin to unzip his pants, you cried in silence praying that it would be over soon and everything would be fine as long as Negan stayed alive.

After some time Benny caught the sight of something strange at the entrance of your door. The man on watch hid in the corner waiting for him to get closer. Benny frowned as he walked towards it slowly, his gun in hand ready for fire.

“Lucille?” Benny called out when the man came rushing out towards him making him drop the gun. The two of them fought when the man yelled out for the other.

“Jose!” After making sure Benny was down the two men ran out and quickly left the sanctuary.

It felt like the man had been in there with you forever. Still shaking you pushed yourself off the bed in a state of shock. Looking down at your robe you found it ripped apart, you cried trying to cover yourself as glimpses of what this man had just done to you replayed in your head.

“Oh shit....Lucille-“ Benny ran in out of breath as you quickly tried to cover every part of yourself.

“Get out!” You screamed as he stayed staring at your disheveled clothes. He froze for a moment before you ran to the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

“Shit..” he whispered, he knew how protective Negan was of you and he knew there was going to be a massive problem when he returned.

Negan arrived to the group with his bat over his shoulder. One of the men had a slick look on his face knowing the two guys were at his sanctuary at that very moment.

“Wipe that damn smirk off your face.” Negan spoke heading his way before Simon ran up to him.

“Hey, Negan is it? I have a question for you.” The man responded as Negan ignored Simon and stepped closer to him intrigued by the nerve this man had to continue speaking.

“How’s that wife of yours?” Negans whole demeanor changed at the mention of you. How the hell did they know about you at all?

“Negan, I double counted. There’s two missing.” Simon whispered close to Negan who began to put two and two together realizing this was all a set up.

“Son of a bitch.” Negan ran to the truck ordering Simon and his men to watch the rest of the group.

Negan drove speeding through the road, he was eager to get back to you. His body was tense, his hands clenching the steering wheel, the thought of anything happening to you drove him insane.

Holding yourself in the bath tub you hadn’t come out, you didn’t want to. Benny went to get your friend Abigail to talk to you, you could hear her knocking on the door but you didn’t want to deal with anyone. You knew Negan would be returning soon, the damage that man would do once he’d find out what happened was something you didn’t want to be around for.

Negan arrived at the sanctuary, running to where you were and found Benny right outside. The look of fear in his eyes at the sight of Negan charging towards his direction.

“Where is she?” He yelled as Benny ran beside him.

“Sir, I didn’t see those men come in I swear. I was in the front the whole time-“ Negan suddenly stopped and turned to Benny and grabbed him by the collar.

“What the hell happened to my wife?”

“I...I don’t know....she’s in the bathroom...I couldn’t get them. They ran out.” Negan pushed him aside before continuing to make his way to you. He stopped and looked at the bedroom, rage building in him at the sight of things broken and thrown around...anger taking over knowing it was you who was in that very room.

“Lucille please open, I just want to see if you’re ok.” Negan turned hearing Abigail call out to you in the bathroom.

“I got it from here.” He muttered low to your friend who quickly got up and left the room.

“Lucille-“ your heart stopped at the sound of Negans voice, you didn’t expect him back so soon.

“Lucille, baby..it’s me. Please open the door.”

The sound of his voice made you cry, you couldn’t see him, not like this. You could hear him turning the knob trying to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. Slowly pushing yourself up and covering yourself the best you could you walked towards the door and slowly opened it. Looking away from Negans eyes you didn’t see the way his eyes darkened at the sight of you. With deeply furrowed brows he looked down at your body and noticed your robe had been ripped apart. A twitch of anger above his lip as he noticed the marks on your body. His hands forming into tight fists, his knuckles turning white from how hard he squeezed. A death stare forming in his eyes, he did his best not to act on impulse, he knew you needed him in that moment. How could anyone hurt a woman like this, he thought to himself, let alone his woman. You quickly wiped away a tear and crossed your arms. All he wanted to do in that moment was destroy the house, yet for your sake he held his anger in. Without saying a word Negan began taking off his jacket and slowly placed it over you. You struggled to hold your tears and you couldn’t any longer, once he got close to you, you suddenly grabbed onto him tightly and began to cry. Negan closed his arms around you, he felt a knot in his throat develop at the sound of your cries. In all the years he had been with you never had he heard you this way.

“I promise you, I’m gonna fucking get him.” He whispered. Slowly you looked up at Negan, meeting with his eyes for the first time.

“I...I tried to stop him. I thought he was going to kill me..-“ you cried as you explained what happened.

“Did you see his face?” Negan asked looking down at you, you quickly shook your head in response.

“Jose. He came with another guy and the guy called him Jose. He told me this was a message to you.” You could see the the fury in his eyes, you knew they would feel his wrath. He took a deep breath and looked away not wanting to show you his aggression.

“Come on, let’s get you changed.”

You held onto his jacket around you looking at the floor as Negan walked you past the bedroom making you panic.

“No!” You screamed pushing past Negan as he caught your arm turning to you.

“I’m not going back in there, I’m not going in there-no.” You cried in a panic making him reach behind him and close the bedroom door.

“Ok, we’ll set up another room.” Negan bought you down the hall to another spare bedroom and had got you new clothes to put on. You felt exhausted all you wanted to do was lay down and sleep, but not alone. Negan stood awkwardly in the room as you stood silently staring at him with the clothes in your hand.

“Can I change alone..please?” Never had you felt uncomfortable to undress in front of your husband but he understood.

“Of course, baby.” Negan walked out closing the door behind him. His hands brushing through his hair as anger slowly took over him. Abigail knocked on the main entrance door making Negan look up.

“Is she ok?”

Negan shook his head in silence.

“I need you to stay with her while I take care of something.”

“Of course.” She responded walking towards your door before Negan quickly walked out. Negan didn’t want to waste any time in finding the man who did this. After making sure you were safely secured he got back in his truck and drove back to where Simon was.

Negan walked right in charging straight for the man who spoke to him before he left. He grabbed the man by the collar dragging him as Simon watched on. In all the men he had witnessed Negan kill, never had he seen him so angry.

“Where’s your friend Jose?” Negan held him against the wall looking down at him with a menacing look.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man responded making Negan slam him against the wall harder.

“Listen you little fuck, I’m not in the mood for any games-“

“Negan there’s someone coming in back here!” Simon yelled out to him before running towards the two men making their way in. Negan pulled out his knife and without warning slit the mans throat before walking off. The rest of the group being held captive by the Saviors, Simon made the two men drop to their knees. Negan slowly approached them with his bat over his shoulder. Taking a deep breath he stopped before them as Simon stood behind them with guns to their heads.

“Which one of you pricks is Jose?”

One of the men smiled giving Negan his response.

“See....I have a rule I make clear to every man I come across. We do not rape. One of you pricks decided to go against that rule, you decided to hurt a woman. A woman very fucking important to me.” His nostrils flared as he gripped his bat tightly, he wanted to rip this man to shreds. He slowly walked up to him then looked down at his bat before throwing it to the side.

“Get up.” Negan spoke in a low voice. Jose chuckled making Negan pull him by his shirt roughly.

“You think this is fucking funny?” Negan looked at him in rage as the other man looked down in fear.

“Not as funny as your wife calling for you.” Negans expression turned dark, the thought of you calling for him and him not being around felt like a plunge to his heart.

“What the hell did you just say to me?” Just as Jose went to speak Negan punched him in the face knocking him to the ground. Simon watched on in silence. Usually Negan would end it with a bat but a bat wasn’t enough for him today, he wanted to destroy Jose with his bare hands. Thinking of the way he found you and the sound of your cries gave him adrenaline to keep going after him. Punch after punch, kick after kick Negan grunted hitting with full force. A pool of blood forming around him as he moaned in pain, Negan stared down at him out of breath with a grin.

“What’s a matter asshole? Not as tough as you thought you were?” Negan got down and looked at him in disgust before wrapping his hands around his throat and strangling him. Jose shook struggling to breath as Negan pressed down harder waiting until he no longer move.

“You should’ve never fucking touched my wife.” He spoke under his breath feeling the man die in his hands. He stood up out of breath not taking his eyes off him.

“What do you wanna do with this one?” Simon asked making Negan look up.

“Shoot him.” The man began to yell when Simon shot him in the eye.

Negan returned to the sanctuary stopping at your bedroom door. Abigail and you were talking when you became distracted by the sight of him.

“I’ll leave you guys alone.” Abigail whispered before quickly getting up and leaving the room.

“Where were you?” You whispered as Negan stared down at you in silence. The look of guilt in his eyes before he looked away. He couldn’t help but think over how many times you begged him to just stay home. How many times you asked him to not do certain things and for him not listening, it came back and hurt you...at least that’s how he thought of it. He blamed himself.

“Lucille....I’m sorry.” His words making you tear up as he sat beside you on the bed.

“I should’ve never left-“

“It’s not your fault, Negan.”

“It is.” He spoke low looking at the ground, his hands together when you looked over and noticed his bruised knuckles. You gasped making him look back at you.

“What did you do?” Negan hesitated for a moment looking at his hands.

“I did what had to be done. I promise I’ll never let anything happen to you again. Ever.” And Negan meant exactly what he said.

Seven long months had gone by, Negan remained by your side as you struggled to heal through the trauma. Seven months without you being intimate with him. It was hard, some days you’d cry, you couldn’t stop replaying certain things in your head. You could see the pain in Negans eyes every time you woke up from a nightmare. Some nights you’d wake up screaming, he hated seeing you this way. A part of you felt guilty for not being able to be intimate with Negan but you were thankful with how understanding he was.

Standing in the kitchen you thought to yourself how you did miss your husbands touch. Taking a sip of your water you heard Negan step inside the room.

“Baby.” His voice made you smile, he learned you didn’t like anyone coming to you from behind. He always made sure that you heard his voice whenever he enterted a room so you wouldn’t jump. You appreciated his considerate ways.

“Ready for bed?” You turned to him with a smile, he took your hand and led you to the room.

Negan took off his shirt and lay beside you, his arm over you he held you close. Nervously, you looked over at him with his eyes closed, hesitant to say anything.

“Negan?”

“Mm?” He raised his brows taking a deep breath.

“Make love to me.” His eyes shot open meeting yours he was speechless at first.

“Please.” You whispered, you felt your body ready, most importantly you felt your mind ready. Negan lifted his head up, looking down at you silently before leaning in for a soft kiss. The feel of your soft lips against his sent shivers down his spine. As he kissed you his hand moved under the covers, slowly going under the his shirt you wore, his hand was in between your thighs. You gasped loudly pushing him back making him quickly move his hand away.

“It’s me.” He whispered before gently taking your hand and kissing it.

“It’s me, Lucille.”

“I need to see you.” You whispered looking up at him, feeling his face. You smiled as he slowly got on top of you and between your legs. The only thing separating his skin against yours was your panties and his boxers. He instantly became aroused being so close to you, closer than he had been in months. You felt him grow hard against you, he wanted more but your comfort was his main concern.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly, you nodded in response. He kissed your jaw line and your neck as you felt him begin to thrust against you. Slowly he began to arouse you, his touch easing you so much that you closed your eyes. Without you noticing at first, Negan pushed down his boxers.

“Negan..” you whispered in between kisses making him stop and look down at you out of breath.

“Lucille, you just say the god damn word and I’ll stop. You hear me?” You nodded quickly in response.

“I don’t want you to stop, Negan.” He looked down at you and smiled before kissing you some more. As he did he reached in between the two of you and slowly pushed your underwear to the side. He felt you begin to shake beneath him as you felt the tip of him begin to enter. He looked you straight in your eyes holding you close.

“It’s me, baby. Look at me.” Negan thrust forward groaning deeply. You held your breath until you fully felt him in you and breathed slowly. You could see the strain in his expression as he felt you, all of him just wanted to dive into you hard. His desire for you was strong. He continued to move, his arms shaking as he did his best to control himself from moving in full force. You held onto him as he began to move a little faster, a soft moan escaping your lips making him look down at you.

“Talk to me-“ you moaned closing your eyes as he moved faster. He was making you feel something you never pictured yourself feeling again. The view of you enjoying yourself sexually was something he had been wanting to see for so long.

“Fuck-“ Negan could barely form words, his grunts turning you on more than you already were. You looked up at him and ran your hands up his chest and over his shoulders bringing him closer to you.

“Lucille..” every touch from you sent him to the edge. It had been so long since he felt you this way, everything in him built up intensely, and with one last thrust he cried out roughly against you. His body collapsed against yours, you didn’t want to let him go.

“Negan...” you could hear him out of breath against your ear before he lifted up his head and kissed your shoulder.

“I’m sorry for-“

“What are you sorry about? You were perfect.”

His words made you smile, you could always count on Negan to make you smile.

#jeffrey dean morgan #the walking dead negan #negan x lucille #negan x you #negan fan fiction #twd fic #negan imagine #negan fanfiction #twd negan #the walking dead fandom

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kjack89 · 4 years ago

Text

Determination of Death (pt. 2/2)

Continued from here.

All of the angst. If y’all thought this was going to secretly be angst with a happy ending, well...you’ve got another think coming.

Former E/R, modern AU. CW: car accident, major injuries, discussion of end of life care, referenced major character death.

Joly led the way out of the meeting room, and Grantaire remembered only upon seeing the expectant faces staring at them from the waiting room that no one else knew what was going on. “Oh, and can you, uh, fill everyone else in?” he asked Joly weakly, unable to bring himself to look any of them in the eye. “You have my permission, or whatever.”

“Of course,” Joly said quietly. “Though you should know...they’ll probably have some opinions on what decision you should make.”

Grantaire snorted. “Your friends? Having opinions? I’m shocked, I tell you. Shocked.”

Joly cracked a small smile. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you,” he informed Grantaire. “It never has. Besides, it’s ‘our’.”

Grantaire frowned at his back. “Our what?”

“Our friends. Not just mine.”

Grantaire’s expression softened. “Maybe that was true before—” he started, but he broke off when Joly came to an abrupt stop outside of a hospital room door. “Is this it?”

Joly nodded. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

Grantaire’s initial instinct was to say no, but judging by the look on Joly’s face, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone with him, at least at first. “Yeah,” he said. “Please.”

“Of course.” Joly pushed the door open and held it for Grantaire, who took a deep breath before stepping into the room. It was quiet, especially compared to the chaos of the hospital; the only sounds were the beeping from the heart monitor and whooshing sound from what Grantaire assumed was the ventilator.

And there, lying on the hospital bed, more still than Grantaire had ever seen him, was Enjolras.

Even with Enjolras’s head bandaged, even with his face bruised and bloody, even with tubes coming out of him from seemingly every angle, Grantaire still would have recognized him. Every line in Enjolras’s body was as familiar to Grantaire as breathing, even now, even like this, even after so much time had passed since he had last seen him.

He crossed to him almost without thinking, drawn as always to Enjolras like a moth to a flame. But this time, Enjolras didn’t glance up at him in irritation for disturbing him when he was working, or with his expression softening when he saw it was Grantaire. He didn’t tilt his head up automatically for a kiss or roll his eyes and brush Grantaire off. He didn’t scrunch his nose and groan because the alarm clock just went off and he didn’t want to get up yet.

He just lay there, completely still, and even though Grantaire had been expecting it, had been bracing himself for it, it still knocked the breath out of him.

Grantaire reached automatically for his hand, running his thumb automatically over the bare spot on Enjolras’s ring finger where his wedding ring had once sat. He wondered briefly what Enjolras had done with it. Grantaire used to joke to anyone who would listen that he had chucked his into the ocean because good fucking riddance, but he hadn’t – his wedding ring was in the back of the top drawer of his dresser.

He had never been able to articulate why he kept it, but looking at Enjolras lying there like that, feeling the way his own heart stuttered in his chest, he thought he might’ve finally figured it out.

“He’s so warm,” he remarked absently, turning Enjolras’s hand over in his own, rubbing the pad of his thumb across Enjolras’s palm in a way that used to make the man laugh and scold him for tickling him, though there was no reaction now. “I don’t know what I was expecting—”

That wasn’t quite true. He had expected him to be cold.

He had expected him to be dead.

Sympathy was clear in Joly’s expression, and he reached out to gently touch Grantaire’s shoulder. “Are you ok?” he asked softly.

Of course he wasn’t ok – he was never going to be ok again. But he forced a smile for Joly, and jerked a nod. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine.” He cleared his throat, looking back down at Enjolras again. “How – how soon do I need to make a decision?”

“Like I said, we’ll retest for brain activity in a few hours. If we still see some functioning, you technically have as long as you want or need—”

“Joly.” Grantaire didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to know – Joly knew him well enough to know he just wanted a straight answer.

“But I’d recommend making a decision on withdrawal of care sooner rather than later, especially if you want to donate his organs,” Joly finished. “The sooner we can harvest them, the better the chances are that they won’t suffer any damage.”

Grantaire nodded again, and Joly squeezed his shoulder. “If you need anything, just push the call button. I’m gonna…” Joly had to pause and clear his throat. “I’m gonna go fill everyone else in.”

“Good luck,” Grantaire told him, meaning it more than he could possibly convey. Joly patted him on the shoulder once more before leaving, and Grantaire was alone with Enjolras.

He had imagined this moment so many times, but never like this.

He sat down in one of the chairs next to Enjolras’s bed without letting go of Enjolras’s hand. Part of him wanted to touch Enjolras, to run his fingers across his cheekbone or trace the line of his jaw, but the bruising and swelling stopped him.

The last thing he wanted to do was cause Enjolras any more pain than he already had.

Instead, he raised Enjolras’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to his knuckles like he had done a thousand times before. “Hey Enj,” he whispered. “It’s been a long time, huh? I know you said you never wanted to see me again, but...I think given the circumstances, we can make an exception.”

Enjolras didn’t respond, and Grantaire just sat like that for a long time, holding Enjolras’s hand in both of his, completely unaware of anything else, including the tears that streamed down his cheeks.

----------

Maybe it was the fact that he’d gotten no sleep the night before, or maybe it was the unbearable emotional trauma, but at some point Grantaire must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, someone was shaking his shoulder gently. “Hey,” Joly said, sounding just as tired as Grantaire felt. “I figured you could use some company.”

Grantaire slowly sat up, looking automatically at Enjolras, who hadn’t so much as shifted in the bed. He was still holding Enjolras’s hand, and he squeezed it once, even though he knew he wouldn’t get a response. “I’m always happy for company, but you’ve had an impossibly long day. Shouldn’t you be getting home and getting some sleep?”

“I actually wasn’t talking about myself,” Joly said, opening the door. “I brought some other folks who want to see Enjolras.” Grantaire blinked as all of Les Amis filed in, many with telltale red eyes and exhaustion tightening their features. “Visitors are supposed to be limited to no more than four, but I figured no one in the hospital would mind. Provided, um, you don’t mind either.”

As if Grantaire could very well kick them out now that they were all in there, looking at him expectantly. “Of course not,” Grantaire mumbled, looking back at Enjolras before standing up stiffly. “Someone else can sit with him for a bit—”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Combeferre and Courfeyrac had sat down, Courfeyrac taking Enjolras’s hand, and Grantaire bit back the jealousy he had absolutely no right to feel at that.

He ducked his head as he pushed through to the back of the room, nodding in response to the few murmured greetings he got from the friends he hadn’t seen in almost as long as he hadn’t seen Enjolras. He found himself next to Jehan, who didn’t even hesitate, looping his arm through Grantaire’s and pulling him close, resting his head against Grantaire’s shoulder as if no time had passed at all.

“You doing ok?” he asked him in an undertone, and Grantaire just shrugged.

“Define alright,” he murmured, giving Jehan a tight, strained smile. “I’m alive. Which is about where the bar is at right now.”

Jehan stifled a laugh, which Grantaire found a little gratifying. Then again, if anyone would appreciate morbid humor at a time like this…

Judging by the dirty look Feuilly shot him from his other side, Jehan was about the only one who appreciated it.

He forced himself to look at Enjolras, watching as Combeferre reached up to rest a hand lightly on the top of Enjolras’s head, almost as if he was trying to stroke Enjolras’s hair despite it being hidden by bandages. Courfeyrac let out a shaky sigh. “He could almost be sleeping,” he said.

It took everything in Grantaire not to laugh, though clearly something of what he was feeling must’ve shown on his face, because Jehan arched an eyebrow at him. “What?” he whispered.

Grantaire shook his head, not intending on explaining, but this time, it wasn’t just Feuilly who gave him a look – everyone swiveled to stare at him, as if he had just sworn in church or something. “Nothing, it’s just…” Grantaire cleared his throat. “Clearly none of you ever saw Enjolras sleep. He was the least peaceful sleeper of all time. I think I’ve still got the bruises on my legs from him kicking me as he thrashed around, and it’s been a few years since I was subjected to it. It was like sleeping with a very large, particularly violent fish.”

Bossuet looked very much like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh or cry. “That’s – that’s horrible.”

Grantaire shrugged, managing another small smile. “Maybe. But it’s also true.”

“I really don’t think,” Combeferre interjected, his voice sharp, “that this is an appropriate topic of conversation. If this is the type of thing you want to talk about, maybe you should step outside.”

Combeferre’s disapproval was hardly anything new, and maybe it was just because Grantaire’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point as it was, but he met Combeferre’s icy glare with one of his own. “And seeing as how this is still my husband and I’m still his medical proxy and you’re all here with my permission, maybe you should go fuck yourself,” he said pleasantly.

Combeferre stood up so suddenly that Courfeyrac, who had been resting his head against Combeferre’s shoulder, was almost knocked out of his chair. “Is that really how you want to do this?” he snapped, angrier than Grantaire had ever heard him. “You want a long, protracted legal battle while we get a judge to agree that while you were married to him for all of thirty seconds, we’re his family?:

Joly cleared his throat. “Guys—”

“Good luck with that,” Grantaire said with a smirk. “Just because you hate me doesn’t change the law. I know this wasn’t what you had in mind when you marched and protested in favor of gay marriage, but unintended consequences and all that—”

“Guys,” Joly repeated, louder this time. “All of you need to go outside. It’s time for us to do Enjolras’s repeat brain function tests.”

It was as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Combeferre’s shoulders slumped, and all the fight left Grantaire just as quickly. They all filed out just as they had filed in, though this time, Grantaire went with them, refusing to look back at Enjolras, mainly because he wasn’t sure he would make it outside if he did.

As soon as he got out in the hallway, Grantaire slumped with his back against the wall, slowly sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. He wanted nothing more than to hide his head in his hands, to block the world out so that he could pretend this was all a bad dream that he might still wake up from.

But that would just delay the inevitable, and Grantaire had never much cared for that option.

Instead, he forced himself to look up at Combeferre, who was avoiding looking at him. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, and Combeferre’s eyes met his. “Of course I don’t want that. And I didn’t mean—”

“Neither did I,” Combeferre told him, exhaustion clear in his expression. “I know Enjolras loved you. Even after everything. We all do.” Grantaire glanced around the circle of his former friends, and all of them were nodding. His chest suddenly felt too tight, but before he could say anything, Combeferre continued, “And you know just as much as any of us. Probably better than most of us.” Combeferre gave Grantaire a tentative smile. “Besides, he and I had to share a bed at a conference once and I’m pretty sure I limped for about a month afterwards from how many times he kicked me.”

But Grantaire didn’t smile, Combeferre’s words picking open a scab on his heart that he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying with him. “I don’t know him anymore,” he said softly, and Combeferre’s smile disappeared. “I mean, honestly, I don’t know if I ever did. I thought I did once, maybe. But now…”

He trailed off, and they all fell into silence. After a few minutes like that, quiet, unrelated conversations broke out. Grantaire watched all these people he had once considered his closest friends, watched Courfeyrac wrap his arms around Pontmercy from behind, resting his head against Marius’s back because Marius was too tall for him to rest his chin on his shoulder. He watched as Jehan and Combeferre sat down across the hall, discussing some article they had both read in quiet tones, both clearly looking for a distraction. Bahorel and Feuilly offered to get coffee for anyone who wanted it, and both headed in the direction of the cafeteria, neither walking quite as fast as they usually did. Bossuet sat next to a pretty woman in scrubs who Grantaire didn’t know but realized must be Musichetta, who he had heard about but never gotten a chance to meet before everything fell apart.

That was nice, Grantaire thought distractedly. They all had someone.

Well, except for him.

Grantaire was alone.

When the door to Enjolras’s room opened and Joly stepped out, all conversation died. Joly’s expression was unreadable as he looked down at Grantaire. “We should talk privately,” he said, but Grantaire shook his head.

“Whatever you have to say, you might as well tell all of us,” he said tiredly. “Saves you from just having to repeat it in five minutes.”

Joly nodded. “Ok,” he said before taking a deep breath and glancing around at all of them. “The scans revealed the same level of brain activity as before. Meaning he is not legally brain dead.”

Grantaire groaned, tipping his head back to rest it against the wall. “So the ball’s in my court,” he said heavily, and Joly nodded again.

“Yes. It’s your decision where we go from here.”

Grantaire exhaled sharply before barking a laugh. “You know, the irony is, he said that I would know,” he said to no one in particular.

“What?” Combeferre asked, his brow furrowed.

“That’s why he picked me,” Grantaire said, staring up at the ceiling. “I told Enjolras when we got married that he should still make Pontmercy his medical proxy like everyone else did. Told him that I would probably be right there with him getting my ass kicked so I’d be useless anyway. But he said that he trusted me.” Tears pricked in the corners of Grantaire’s eyes but he didn’t bother trying to stop them as they fell. “He said that I’d know when his work was done, when it was time to let him go.”

Silence again fell over everyone, but this time, it was Bahorel who broke it, blurting, “That’s seriously what you two would talk about?” Everyone stared at him, and he shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I just – I always wondered.”

“I think we all did,” Jehan muttered, and Grantaire cracked a smile.

“In fairness, we talked about a lot of things, not just what to do in the case of a traumatic injury.” His smile faded. “But given the likelihood that he’d get his head bashed in at a protest one day, it wasn’t exactly a random hypothetical.”

But in the end, it hadn’t been Enjolras’s activism that had killed him, the way Grantaire always feared it would. It had been a car accident, a random, cruel accident that had ended his entire world, and he was sure there was some lesson to be drawn from that, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

Instead, he twisted his head to look up at Joly. “Anyway, I, uh, I need some time.”

“Of course,” Joly said instantly. “Take as much time as you need.”

Grantaire looked away, glancing around the circle before adding, “And, um, everyone should take some time with him. To say...whatever you need to say.”

He let them work out who was going to go in first as he instead picked himself up off the floor and made his way over to Marius to ask in an undertone, “Can we talk?”

Marius nodded, looking concerned, and they walked away down the hallway. “What’s up?” he asked when they were out of earshot.

Grantaire let out a shaky breath. “I, uh...honestly?” He let out a noise that might’ve been a cough, or a very dry laugh. “It’s going to sound stupid, but I wanted to make sure I haven’t committed tax fraud.”

Whatever Marius had been expecting, that was clearly not it, since he stared at Grantaire as if he’d grown a second head. “Tax fraud?” he repeated.

“Yeah, since I’ve been under the impression that I’ve been divorced, I’ve been filing my taxes as single.”

Marius barked a laugh, quickly covering his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not funny. None of this is funny. I just can’t believe that’s what you’re worried about.”

Grantaire flinched. “I mean, I’m worried about a lot of things. This is just something that I can do something about.” He glanced at Marius. “Or not, and the IRS is putting a warrant out for my arrest as we speak.”

Marius laughed again, but gentler this time. “You will not be going down for tax fraud,” he said. “The designation is single or married filing separately, which you technically are. Or were.”

The past tense was like a knife to the gut, and Grantaire jerked a nod. “Good,” he said hollowly. “Because if I go down for tax fraud because Enjolras forgot to file our fucking divorce papers, I swear to God, I’ll kill him myself.”

Something shifted in Marius’s expression. “You know, I’m not sure he did.”

“Did what?” Grantaire asked tiredly.

“Forget,” Marius said, before adding in what he clearly thought was a helpful way, as if Grantaire was incapable of following the simple thread of the conversation, “To file the papers, I mean. I think he didn’t file them on purpose.”

Grantaire stared blankly at him. “And yet he clearly didn’t want to be married to me, so…”

Marius shrugged. “Maybe not. I can’t speak to that.” He hesitated before telling Grantaire, “Technically this is breaking attorney-client privilege, but...he came to me, after you had signed the papers. And he asked me what would happen to his trust fund in the divorce.”

“His trust fund?” Grantaire asked blankly.

“Yeah,” Marius said. “According to your pre-nup, in the case of divorce, all of his original assets revert to his sole ownership, save for what he would owe in spousal support.”

Grantaire shifted uncomfortably. “Look, I never wanted his money—”

“But Enjolras didn’t want that,” Marius continued as if Grantaire hadn’t spoken. “He wanted to make sure you had more than that. So I started to tell him about the process of signing over certain trusts to your name, and he blew me off. Said he’d take care of it.”

“Right.”

Grantaire wasn’t sure what he was agreeing with, but it didn’t really matter, since Marius ignored him. “But I think what he meant is that he’d take care of you.”

Again, Grantaire’s chest felt painfully tight. “By pretending we were divorced?” he asked skeptically.

Marius shrugged again. “Well, I’ve never once argued that the man’s methods were anything resembling sane, but…” Almost despite himself, Grantaire laughed and Marius managed a small smile. “But yeah, I think that was what he was trying to do.”

Grantaire shook his head slowly. “After all this time...I really didn’t think he could surprise me anymore.”

“He loved you,” Marius said simply. “I don’t know what happened between you two, and frankly, I don’t want to. But I know that much is true.” Grantaire couldn’t seem to speak, but Marius looked like he understood. “Anyway,” he said, “can I answer any other legal questions for you? Or do anything at all?”

Grantaire was about to tell him no when a sudden realization hit. “Actually, yes,” he said. “Can you get Combeferre and Courfeyrac for me? I want to talk to them.”

---------

As it turned out, between everyone saying their goodbyes to Enjolras and the general chaos of the hospital, including a very angry nurse coming to tell them that they were all liable to get kicked out if they didn’t keep it down, Grantaire didn’t get a chance to talk to Combeferre and Courfeyrac together until it was just the three of them left in Enjolras’s hospital room. Combeferre and Courfeyrac were seated on either side of Enjolras, and Grantaire stood at the end of the bed, wanting to be anywhere but there, talking about anything but what he needed to.

“What would you two do?” he asked finally, when the silence had gotten truly unbearable.

Combeferre looked sharply at him. “Legally, it’s not our decision to make.”

“I know that,” Grantaire said tiredly. “But you knew him better than I did these past few years, and I want to know what you would do.”

Combeferre and Courfeyrac exchanged glances, and it was Courfeyrac who spoke first. “Enjolras wanted to help people,” he said simply. “Yeah, his aim was always more systemic, because he knew as well as any of us that to truly help folks in the long term required breaking the system that was oppressing them in the first place, but that’s still what he wanted to do: to help.” He paused and took a deep breath. “And I think that in this case, even though it’s not a systemic help, he would still want to help people with his death, if he could. So I would– I would withdraw life support so that he could donate his organs.”

Grantaire nodded slowly. “What about you?” he asked Combeferre hoarsely.

Combeferre shook his head, looking back at Enjolras. “I know what the statistics are,” he said, his voice low. “And logic would say that pulling the plug probably makes the most sense, given the odds of him recovering. But as long as there is a chance, any chance…” He swallowed. “Science is progressing rapidly and he could live like this for years, until they’ve developed a treatment that could bring him back to us. We learn more about the brain and healing from brain injuries every single day, and he deserves a chance to see if we discover how to heal him.” He raised his chin as he looked back at Grantaire, something like defiance in his expression. “His work is not done, and I can’t imagine him giving up that chance, no matter how slim the odds are.”

Again Grantaire nodded. “In other words, you’re both completely fucking useless.”

“Enjolras said as much, many, many times,” Courfeyrac said with something like his usual cheerfulness. “Everytime he wanted us to agree with him on something and we didn’t.”

“So like, once a week, at least,” Combeferre muttered, and he and Courfeyrac exchanged a smile at the shared memory. Then he looked back at Grantaire. “But at the end of the day, we’re not the ones making this choice. He didn’t—” His voice broke. “He didn’t choose us. He chose you. And you know him better than you think you do, because you know the parts of him that none of us ever got to see.”

Grantaire opened his mouth to argue with that, but Courfeyrac stood, squeezing Enjolras’s hand once more before releasing it. “We should leave you alone,” he said softly. “Give you some time with him.” He looked at Grantaire, his eyes shining. “Whatever choice you make, you have my full support. Because despite everything, I know you loved him. And that’s enough for me.”

Grantaire could feel tears threatening to fall again, but this time, he brushed them forcefully away as Combeferre and Courfeyrac slipped away. Grantaire took Combeferre’s vacated seat, staring down at Enjolras as if the man might give him a sign, any sign.

He had hoped Combeferre and Courfeyrac would give him some kind of clarity, but he should’ve known they wouldn’t. Especially since they were both completely wrong.

They had known Enjolras, yes, and loved him, but they hadn’t loved him like Grantaire had. Like Grantaire still did. Loving Enjolras for Grantaire had always meant seeing more than just the leader of Les Amis, but seeing the whole man, even for all his many, many faults. Enjolras cared deeply like Courfeyrac had said, yes, but not about helping any one person; he cared only about destroying the systems that kept people in whatever metaphoric chains he cared about that week. He wouldn’t be swayed by the argument that he could save lives or else he would’ve been a living kidney or partial liver donor.

And he wasn’t a hopeless believer either like Combeferre seemed to think. The thought of Enjolras waiting around for a miracle that might not even happen was utterly laughable. The man’s patience was non-existent. He wouldn’t be content to lie in bed for years on end. He was a man of action, and if there was nothing actionable, it wasn’t anything worth his time. It was, after all, probably why he had been so quick to give up on them, since there wasn’t anything left for him to do or fix.

There was only one argument that would sway Enjolras, one way or another. An argument about the Cause, about the work left undone, and as much as Grantaire was the wrong messenger for anything relating to the Cause or Enjolras’s work, he knew that only he could tell Enjolras what he needed to hear.

Grantaire would obviously never know, but he couldn’t help but think that this was why Enjolras had chosen him. Because whatever else he was, or wasn’t, had been or hadn’t, Enjolras was already gone. Whether they removed the ventilator today or tomorrow or in a week or a year, Enjolras would not be any less gone.

But Grantaire had already lost him, years ago now, and maybe that’s why Enjolras had let this be his decision.

Because he was the only one who could make it.

And he knew what he had to do.

So he squeezed Enjolras’s hand one more time before standing and going to the door, his eyes clear for the first time all day. “Can you get Joly for me?” he asked Courfeyrac, who was standing closest to the door as if keeping watch. “I’ve made my decision.”

----------

Grantaire stroked the top of Enjolras’s head, pretending that the rough bandages under his fingers were instead the fine blond curls he had never quite been able to capture with the right color when he painted Enjolras. He had spent hours some evenings just running his fingers through Enjolras’s hair, watching the different shades of gold tumble through his fingers, while Enjolras had worked on something or other.

He would always miss that, in particular, those evenings they spent just the two of them. He would always miss the version of Enjolras that had been his husband. But that was an old hurt now, no matter how much circumstances might make it feel brand new again.

“Damn you,” he said, which wasn’t exactly how he had anticipated starting his goodbye speech, but if he couldn’t be honest in these last moments, then when could he? “Damn you for loving me, and leaving me, and still somehow putting me in this position. For making me be the one to decide, and the one who has to live with that for the rest of my life. You always were an asshole, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but…”

He trailed off, and took Enjolras’s hand, lacing their fingers together, marveling as he always had at how well their hands fit together. There had been a part of them that had always worked, even when nothing else between them seemed to, and it had been that part that he had clung to even when they were well past their expiration date.

He wondered if that was the part that had stopped Enjolras from filing the papers.

“We were supposed to die together,” he whispered, the breath hitching in his throat. “That’s what I promised, when we got married. That we would be together until we were old. And even if we died early, because of a protest gone bad or something, I still just assumed it’d be you and me leaving together. I never– I never thought I’d be the one left behind.”

He lifted Enjolras’s hand to his mouth again, this time pressing a kiss to the finger where, years ago, he had placed his ring and promised Enjolras he would love him forever. “I didn’t lie, you know,” he told Enjolras. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you.” He shook his head slowly. “I will you until the day I die, no matter if you’re still here or not. And—” His voice broke. “And Joly wasn’t supposed to tell me this, I think it’s supposed to be confidential, but...at least a part of you will still be here. Because there’s a 10-year-old girl in Pennsylvania who’s going to get your kidney. And a 45-year-old father of two who’s getting part of your liver. And your heart—” Again his voice broke. “And your heart is going to keep beating for a very long time because it’s going to a 28-year-old woman.”

When Joly had told him where Enjolras’s organs were going, when Grantaire signed all the consent forms, he had told him as if it was a comfort, somehow, as if Grantaire didn’t now have a list of people to resent because they were going to live, and Enjolras was not.

But it was better than no comfort at all.

“You have done more in your brief life than most people could accomplish in two lifetimes,” Grantaire continued, “and more importantly, you are leaving behind people who will continue doing your work. That’s the part of you that I know you care about, so you can rest easy knowing that they will carry you with them for the rest of their lives, fighting the battles you always wanted to. And as for the rest, well—” He was sure that he was crushing Enjolras’s hand with how tightly he held it. “I’ll carry that with me. I’ve got you, I promise. I always have.”

He had figured he would cry, would weep, but instead, he felt strangely at peace, looking down at Enjolras and telling him all of the things he had always wanted to say but had never been able to bring himself to. Just their fucked up luck that it had taken this.

He leaned in close, his voice no more than a whisper as he told him, fiercely, “Others will take your place in the Cause, and keep fighting. I promise you that. So you can rest now, ok?” He bent over Enjolras and kissed his forehead, his eyelids fluttering closed. “It’s all I ever wanted for you, was for you to rest. And maybe this is selfish of me, maybe it's the most selfish thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t care.” He opened his eyes, searching Enjolras’s face for some sign, any sign, that he heard, that he understood. He knew he wouldn’t find any, but that didn’t matter.

“The work will never be done, but your part in it is.” His voice cracked. “I love you, and you can stop fighting now.”

They stayed like that for a long moment, Grantaire holding onto Enjolras with everything that he had left. Then a nurse poked her head into the room. “Are you ready?” she asked softly.

It was an asinine question. Of course Grantaire wasn’t ready. He was never going to be ready.

But he jerked a nod anyway and stood, taking a step back so the flurry of doctors and nurses could make Enjolras ready to move, so they could take him to the operating room where they would remove his life support and take the organs he was able to donate. “I love you,” he told Enjolras one last time, something desperate in his voice. “I love you. Don’t fight anymore, ok? Just...just rest.”

“Sir,” one of the nurses said, her voice gentle. “Sir, you have to let him go.”

“Oh,” Grantaire said numbly. “Of course.”

And he let go of Enjolras’s hand.

#enjolras x grantaire #exr #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #les amis #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #former relationship #car accident cw #major injury cw #end of life care cw #major character death cw #angst #all of the angst #truly

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writing-fool · 4 years ago

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mlqc | like it’s a bad thing pt. 1

I think these are ‘fighting’ scenarios, but I’m not 100% sure at this point. It’s like a ‘relationship on the cliffs’ thing. Pt. 1 for Victor and Shaw because I noticed these were getting a tad long. And they kind of carry the same theme, I guess. Wanted to include Lucien, but I ended up not being able to finish his for now...so if I make the next part, he’ll probably be on there.

I’m still working on a hp!au for Victor, but that may take a while since the inspiration doesn’t seem to be arriving anytime soon. It’s all been a bit tough, sorry. I say this all the time, but I apologise for the lack of fics; my writing pace’s been slow.

As always, enjoy the read!

Love,

Warning(s): slight angst, profanity, mention of mature content.

Victor

You love Victor. You really do. But sometimes, just sometimes you wonder why you put up with this man and his bullshit. A great downside to being involved both romantically and professionally is that those types of relationships tend to bleed into one another. This could be in the form of an office quickie...or something a lot less fun.

On the outside, Victor may seem put together, but you know him well enough by now that this month has been incredibly stressful for him. But so has it been for you. Safe to say, it’s been tense, even at home. Victor’s constant nagging about work performance and his snide comments at your so-called slacking off have pushed you to the breaking point, and you’re really not going to sit there and take it today.

“Do you even understand what I’m saying? LFG can’t move forward with your company if you continue working at this inefficient pace. You, as the head of a company, should know how to improve the quality and efficiency of your work.”

You sigh, not taking your eyes off of the laptop in front of you as Victor exasperatedly throws another one of your proposals on the coffee table. “I get it. Just give me some time.” You rub your temples, getting back to your own work.

“Do you? It doesn’t seem like you get the point here. You. Do. Not. Have. Time,” he harshly points out.

“You know you’re able to manipulate time, right?” You raise an eyebrow and look up at his unamused face.

“I can’t favour you like this. Did you really think I was going to stop time to solve your inefficiency problem? You can’t rely on others all the time. A company that can’t pull itself up is use—”

Something in you snaps at that very moment. “I get it. We’re useless, inefficient, and we’re so lucky LFG is even willing to support this failing company. I’m a useless boss, I can’t do anything right, I’m leeching off of my rich, CEO boyfriend to get ahead, I fucked my way to the top, whatever. Tell me something I don’t know,” you snarl, slamming your laptop shut with a resounding snap.

“You know that’s not what I’m saying.” Victor’s glaring now, sharp, stormy eyes boring into yours.

“Oh, do I?” you mimic his words, narrowing your eyes, “Because you sure don’t seem to tell me otherwise. I can’t read minds, Victor, and all I hear from your mouth are insults telling me how incapable I am as a boss. So pray tell, how am I supposed to think I deserve my job when not only the entire business world, but also my own fucking boyfriend tells me I don’t?”

Victor’s clearly taking aback by your sudden outburst, but his need to get his point across in this argument seems to win over the instinct to lighten your mood at this very moment. “First of all, I don’t know why you care what others say—”

“Because I’m human! Maybe you don’t think of people calling you names anymore because they’re lost in the sea of people literally grovelling at your feet, but I’m not you,” you rub your temples again, voice lowering as the mental exhaustion kicks in.

“I don’t know if I can live like this anymore. Fuck Victor, you make me feel like a failure and you just don’t seem to care.” You push past his stunned form and head to the bedroom.

“Sleep in your office if all you care about is work.” You glance back at him for the last time before slamming the bedroom door shut.

Victor messed up. Royally. He didn’t mean to take his stress and anger out on you and he definitely didn’t mean to act like your boss at home.

He’s been trying to get back to work for the past two hours while giving you some space, but the lingering guilt and worry in the back of his mind prevent him from actually doing anything productive. What if you really meant it? What if this is it? He can’t lose you just because he acted like an idiot. Victor’s always assumed you knew he cherished you more than anything in the world...but maybe he’s been neglecting you as a partner.

With a steel resolve to make it right, Victor leaves his home office and walks to your shared bedroom. The light from the hallway streams in as he opens the door, illuminating your sleeping figure. You’re curled in on yourself in a protective, almost guarded way, something you never do (you’re usually the kind of sleeper that has their limbs flopping everywhere on the bed). Victor feels a sharp pang in his heart at the notion of seeing you look this broken...because of him.

Gently, as to not wake you, he shuffles to the dresser, carefully taking off his shirt and folding it over a chair. After sufficiently (un)dressing himself, he slides under the sheets.

Victor tentatively reaches a hand over to touch your arm, only to feel you turn away from his touch. Instead of pulling his hand back, Victor brings his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against his bare chest.

You’re awoken by the sudden movement, and in your sleepy state, you lean back into the warmth surrounding you.

Victor’s breath grazes your ear as he whispers. “I’m sorry.” Hm?

Your mind slowly registers that the warmth is, in fact, caused by Victor’s body heat, and more importantly, that you’re still very much upset with him. You struggle to get out of his grip, but that only seems to tighten the hold Victor has on you.

“Don’t. Stay with me,” he pleads, voice tinged with despair. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before. You still your actions, instead opting to turn around to face Victor.

“I don’t know if this is what I want,” you speak up after a long moment of silence, “I love you, but I don’t want to be stuck in a relationship where I’m not welcomed.”

“Do you feel like you’re stuck here?” Victor asks.

You avoid his gaze. “I’m not sure. It’s not all your fault, but I do wonder whether you stopped caring about me sometimes. You’ve been so harsh to me, lately.”

“I didn’t, I never stopped caring,” Victor takes your hand in his left one, interlacing your fingers, “But I understand that I’ve made you feel insecure and uncared for. I never wanted to make you feel worthless, but I’ve gone too far this time, haven’t I?”

A mirthless chuckle escapes your mouth. “That’s an understatement,” you quip.

You expect Victor to retort back with something mean, revert to his distant self (at least, to the distant person he’s become this month), but instead, he gently cups your cheek with his right hand, raising your face up to look at him again.

A soft kiss is placed on your forehead. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be less harsh, and I’ll do anything it takes for you to forgive me. I’ll fix it all, your insecurities, your anxiousness. So give me one more chance, please. Let me fix it.” Victor’s beautiful grey eyes look into yours, sadness apparent on his face. You lie there for a long while, staring into his sombre eyes in silence.

“You’ll do anything?” you finally ask in curiosity. A resolute nod is your answer. “Even stop talking about work at home?” Victor nods again. You pause for a while, contemplating your next request. “...And take me to Souvenir and make me pudding every day?”

Victor snorts. “That’s the least I can do, dummy,” he chuckles lightly. Suddenly, his eyes widen. “I don’t mean you’re dumb. I just—”

Your soft giggle breaks his anxious ramble, and Victor feels like he’s just won the biggest prize at the lottery. “Just this is fine,” you whisper, “I thought it’d take longer for me to forgive you. But for some reason...I’m just happy to see your old self again.”

Victor sighs, pulling you closer. He presses his lips onto the crown of your head, inhaling deeply. “Dummy, don’t be so kind to me. I won’t know what to do,” he mumbles, relishing in the dark quiet of your bedroom. Truth is, he probably never knows what to do when it comes to you.

“You just have to love me, that’s all,” you pull your hand out of his, instead hooking your pinkies together, “No take-backsies.”

He rolls his eyes at your antics, a fond expression betraying the lack of annoyance behind the gesture. His pinky finger curls around yours ever so slightly, as if it’s desperate to hold onto yours. As if he’s desperate to hold onto you.

“No take-backsies.”

Shaw

“Not again,” you growl under your breath.

Shaw’s always been popular with the ladies, the gents, and the non-binary friends. Which is fine, it’s fine. You’re not a jealous person. You’ve dealt with people asking him out, people asking him if he was a celebrity and making you take pictures of him and some other person on a date, older ladies in your family groping him whenever you bring him to a family function (which really, isn’t about jealousy. You got mad, rightfully so, because they were harassing him). You can’t even remember how many times one of his campus students has confessed to him. With you right next to him at the table! Is it that unbelievable that I’m his significant other?

But too far is too far.

You walked into the fancy nightclub tonight, expecting to get a drink or two in your system, let loose with Shaw for a couple of hours, drag his drunk ass home and cuddle in bed. Not this.

The moment you walk in, you spot Shaw’s lavender coloured mop of hair sticking out over one of the booths. But he’s not alone, oh no. He’s surrounded by young men and women fawning over him like he’s some kind of celebrity or host club guest. And even though he looks a little bored, he’s not exactly bothered by the attention he’s getting. Because of course he isn’t. The moment his eyes land on you though, he looks you up and down appreciatively before shooting you a challenging smirk. He reaches over to a long-haired girl next to him, lazily fingering a lock of her hair. She looks up at him with a coy smile, but his amber eyes are fixed on yours, gauging your reaction. Oh, so he wants me to come over? Play the little jealous significant other? Hah! Not today, boy. I didn’t come here to play games.

You raise an eyebrow, a visibly annoyed expression showing on your face. Instead of heading in his direction, you strut to the bar, shoes tapping rhythmically on the floor. I look hot, I feel hot, and I need a fucking drink.

You order a bourbon on the rocks, gulping down a large sip of the beverage a soon as it gets to you. Bourbon is made to be savoured. You hear Victor’s voice resounding in your mind from the time he taught you how to judge alcohol for a production. So am I, but nobody’s been thinking of that, apparently. You turn around with a scowl, leaning against the bar. You feel horrible, and the fact that Shaw’s back to his childish antics isn’t making that any better. An exasperated sigh leaves your lips as you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. The flashing lights are blurry, but still noticeable through your closed eyelids. But what you don’t notice, is the man heading over to you from his side of the bar.

Shaw notices. How could he not? The moment you walked in the room, all he could see was you. And he knows he’s being a little shit, trying to make you jealous like that, but he can’t help wanting to play with you. It’s just a game of push and pull, and maybe he just wanted to see how hard you’d pull for him.

He didn’t expect you to react like that, though.

So here he is, so uncharacteristically walking (or strutting, because he is still sort of himself, after all) away from the admiring crowd of people around him and towards his clearly pissed off lover. And the man who’s clearly trying to chat you up.

“—buy you a drink?” he overhears. Shaw halts and watches the blinding spotlights in the club illuminate the sight in front of him.

He sees you lean closer to the man, foreheads almost touching in a conspiring way, before you shrug and the two of you turn to the bar. The man flags down the bartender, holding two fingers up. He’s just ordering two drinks for himself. That’s it.

His gait picks up again as he sees the bartender slide your favourite drink across the counter. Before you can even take a sip of bourbon, the textured glass is ripped out of your hand. Shaw downs the amber liquid, the burning sensation washing away the bitter taste of jealousy.

“Thanks for ordering me a drink, honey,” he emphasizes the pet name, grinning at you before turning his head to the man with a fierce glare. The man raises his hands in defense, shakes his head at you with a smile, and promptly heads back to the other side of the bar. Shaw turns to you, the grin slipping back on his face momentarily.

“Already cheating on me?” he asks, masking the slight hurt behind a teasing façade. Shaw plops down on the stool next to you, watching your face. You look slightly guilty at first, but then your expression morphs back into one of anger...and exhaustion. You aren’t actually cheating on me, are you?

“Funny thing for you to say,” you ground out.

“...So you were jealous.”

“That’s what you take from that?” You stare at him incredulously, his smug grin slowly sliding off of his face. I’m making it worse. Why did I make it worse?

“Jesus, you’re a prick,” you sigh, “No drink can fix this evening. I’m just going to go home. Do what you want, I don’t care anymore.” You climb out of your seat, making a beeline for the exit. Shaw is quick to follow you outside, grabbing your wrist before you can flag down a cab.

“Let me go, Shaw.”

“Hey, hey, it was a joke. You know that, right?” His ears are ringing from the loud music back in the club, but the sudden quiet’s more deafening than any song booming from the speakers. It feels sad, and Shaw hates it.

“I said, let me go.” You’re refusing to look at him. Why is it turning out like this?

“It was a joke. If I let go, you’re going to leave. Don’t leave me,” the slight pleading of his voice makes you turn around to look at his face. He tentatively releases your wrist, and you make no move to leave...yet.

“I don’t want to play these games anymore.”

He looks at you with furrowed brows. “I don’t understand,” he says.

“Is it fun, to try and make me jealous? To remind me of the fact that I’m somehow not suited for you, that after this amount of time, I’m still not enough for you?” you poke a finger into his lithe chest, “Because guess what, you succeeded. I’m jealous. I admit it, you won.”

“I didn’t—And you took that guy’s offer for a drink! You’re not better!” Shaw suddenly raises his voice, his stance akin to that of a wolf on guard.

“I told him I had a boyfriend! And you know why he bought me a drink? Because he said I looked like I needed a pick me up. And you didn’t even notice! Even worse, you’re the fucking reason I needed one in the first place!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know you were going to throw a hissy fit over me hanging out with some friends?” he spits out.

“Friends? They were hanging onto you, Shaw! One of those girls had her tits so close to you, she almost suffocated you with them. And you know it,” a humourless laugh escapes your lips, “You love the attention. And we both know I was never enough to provide that for you. So I quit.”

Shaw deflates. “What do you mean, you quit?”

“I don’t want to be vying for your affection with the rest of them, I guess. It’s selfish of me, but somehow I thought I’d be special, or something,” you scoff, kicking a nearby rock of the pavement, “But I don’t think I am. Not to you. So I think we should stop all of this before one of us gets even more hurt. I think we should break up.”

Shaw halts, burying both of his hands in his hair. His breathing quickens as he processes your words. “No, no, absolutely not. We aren’t breaking up.” he looks at you with the same pleading eyes he used that time when he got sick and begged you to cuddle him instead of getting his medicine. Back then, everything seemed so...lovely.

“I don’t know what else to do, Shaw,” your voice breaks, and Shaw feels his heart shatter at the notion of you hurting this much. “I just don’t know why you do this, I—”

“Because I don’t deserve you.”

“What?” You shake your head in confusion.

“I know it’s fucked up. Everyone around us knew that I wasn’t deserving of you. Just look at me,” he gestures at himself, “I’m a fucking gangster dating someone who deserves better. So I tried pushing you away, and then you pulled back, and you fought for me. And I just don’t know how to deal with that, ‘cause people don’t do that for me.”

You sigh. “You deserve to be fought for.”

“I don’t. I really fucking don’t. Because here I am, with the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m about to lose them. And it should be what I want because I keep pushing and pushing and pushing, but now the only thing I want is you. I fucked up.”

You lean against a nearby wall, silence hanging above you two before you break it. “I...don’t think this dynamic is healthy,” you start.

“I know, I’m sorry. I fucked up, but I promise I’ll—”

“And if we’re going to try this again, you’re going to have to fix your attitude,” you interrupt him.

“I—you’re serious?” a careful nod has Shaw’s expression turning from dumbfounded to ecstatic. His grin’s back, but now it seems more...genuine. More innocent.

“Fuck. I can’t believe it,” he tilts his head up to the sky in glee, but soon looks back at you with resolution in his eyes, “I’m going to be the best boyfriend you’ve ever seen.”

You laugh. “Is that a challenge, pretty boy?”

“You bet your ass it is,” he teases, swiftly scooping you up into his arms, “I fucking love you, and I’ll do anything I can to prove it,” he mutters into the crook of your neck.

“Shaw...I love you too, but people are really staring, actually.” You cast worried glances over his shoulder.

“Don’t care.”

“...Of course you don’t.”

Shaw’s scenario was a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, to be fair. I think I made him pretty OOC, but I’m filling in a lot of the blanks in regards to his personality, and for some reason he has serious trauma and insecurities here, which is either kinda valid, or projecting. I don’t know if I’m satisfied with it...but it’s going I guess.

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc shaw #mlqc imagine #mr love #love and producer #victor li #shaw #mlqc scenarios #li zeyan #ling xiao #long live the queue

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joontier · 4 years ago

Text

The King’s Guard | Chapter 7

pairings: kim seokjin x reader ; jeon jungkook x reader ; min yoongi x reader

series rating: R(18+) | genre: angst, forbidden love, longing, immense pining

warnings: none to note

word count: 6.6k

g/n: HAHGFJFIE FINALLY!!!!!!!! that is all. ((also painfully and regrettably unedited)) thank you. THIS IS THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR ASJDFOAWJEFI SEND ME YOUR THOUGHTS PLEASE?

The King’s Guard - Masterlist || navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 7

“Hoseok.”

Yoongi keeps his voice low as he attempts to poke the general awake, vigorously, yet with the right amount of caution so as not to wake the naked sleeping court lady in his arms. Chaeyoung, was it? The southern king ponders on wistfully as he pulls the blanket up again to maintain the modesty in the room - if there was any left, that is.

The young king of the south had already sensed the tension between the pair when they were first acquainted with each other. Yoongi, not a stranger to the wants of the flesh, already knew this was coming. If it only weren’t for the places they hold in the palace, they would have made a great couple.

Surely though, the two were old enough to know that clothes were still warranted even after what Yoongi could only assume to have been a steamy evening between the two. It wasn’t appropriate to just go sleeping in the nude especially when one could easily barge in at any time of the day, just as Yoongi had done.

The blonde-haired king continues poking at the general by the ribs, cursing when the latter won’t respond and instead rolls over to the other side, pulling Chaeyoung closer in his arms.

Good heavens. Why does this have to be so hard?

For one, he’d already wasted time this morning trying to locate Hoseok, who he reckons no longer enjoys sleeping in his own quarters; finding more comfort in the danger that lies with sleeping in the court ladies’ quarters instead. He makes a mental note to address this to Hoseok later as this was going to be a major headache later on.

Should this relationship of theirs proceed with its imminent direction, not only the general will be facing the grave consequences of their actions, but the poor court lady will have to take responsibility as well.

“Hoseok.” The young king of the south nudges him once more, this time stronger than the last. Yoongi hears the general groan in response, and lets himself sit back against the wall in relief. At least this reaction was better than the log he was trying to wake just moments ago.

That is, until he realizes he spoke too soon.

Hoseok rolls over and proceeds to lie on his stomach. Yoongi cards his fingers through his temple, jaw clenched as he tries to figure out a more effective way to get the general up on his feet.

He spots a vessel on top of Chaeyoung’s dresser, and Yoongi smirks as an unorthodox idea of waking up someone pops in his head. Quietly creeping up from the floor, he grabs the clay container by its neck and tilts the vessel, pouring the water onto Hoseok’s bare back. This ought to do the job. Just as expected, the liquid had the southern general scrambling to his feet.

Squinting his eyes as he looks around, Hoseok comes face to face with his king, eyes trained on him like a tiger waiting on his prey. Hoseok immediately sits up, cowering under the king’s daunting gaze, “M-my king…”

Yoongi promptly gets up, not wanting to bother himself with another look at Hoseok’s naked form. “Get up. Meet me by the stables,” the king orders, sliding the door open, “and next time, please maintain some dignity and remember to put clothes on before sleeping.”

The general clambers from the court lady’s yo, taking his discarded clothes by the corner of the room as the southern king heads to the stables first.

“Did she really knock you out that bad that you were harder to wake than a sleeping cow?”

Even at dawn when the sun hasn’t risen yet, Yoongi sees the general blush under the sky’s soft shade of purple. “If I could say so for myself, she was quite flexible, your Highness…” Hoseok whispers shyly as he chews on his lip. Yoongi’s mouth falls agape at his general’s confession, grimacing at the awful mental images it brought to his mind this early in the morning.

“General.” Hoseok straightens himself atop his steed, knowing that the king meant business when he calls him by his official title. “You should know that what I had said was a question I needed not answered.”

“My apologies, my King.” Hoseok says, expression unchanging when he whispers under his breath. “It’s not like I’m the only one who’s getting frisky with the women of the palace.” Yoongi’s eyes narrow as he glares at the general, guiding his horse nearer to Hoseok’s, seemingly taunting the latter to say more. “Ah yes,” the general gets the message and bows, but Yoongi doesn’t miss the small smirk playing on the younger man’s lips, “this is the part where I keep my mouth shut.”

Bored out of his wits (and disrupted from his very lovely sleep), the general turns to his king, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, jeonha, but where exactly are we headed to at this time of the day?”

“We’re already here.” Hoseok, with his question answered in the most unexpected manner, gives an awkward nod as a reply to the southern king. He studies the place where Yoongi had led him to in this early morning and in recognition, his would seemingly winces at him as he remembers the day they’ve faced death in the eyes, and luckily got away with it.

In subconscious reminiscence, Yoongi flexes his shoulders, a short tinge of pain stings through the breadth of his back. Hoseok, in similar thought, does the same, reaching over to his side to feel the slowly healing wound.

The small clearing was not as ghastly as it had been when they had first arrived at this part of the forest. The previously horrific scenery was no more; the doltap shrine, formerly made from dead bodies toppled over each other was now replaced by actual rocks and other mementos of the deceased.

Yoongi dismounts from his horse, a small cloud of dust appearing as he lands on the ground. Just like that, he’s taken back to the same night he’d met Seokjin – the same night he and Hoseok had narrowly escaped the hands of death. The southern king closes his eyes, reliving the scene like it was just yesterday.

“Forgive me, jeonha, but why are we here? If I should say so myself, my king, we we’re lucky enough to get away last time…if we stay here any longer, I’m not particularly sure what or who could be waiting for us this time.”

“We have to look for something.”

“Which is?”

“I’m not sure too. Just… I don’t think Seokjin is dead yet.”

Hoseok looks at him, worry painting all over his features. Yoongi had never concerned himself with the capitol, all the more with its king. The southern general couldn’t quite put a finger on it yet, but he is sure that there is a missing piece of the puzzle he has yet to discover. It won’t be long before he does.

Jungkook watches you from the shade of another nearby tree, indulging himself with an apple he picked earlier on the way to the gardens. You’ve just finished teaching five new characters to the class, and as a reward for their exemplary behavior, you decided to treat them with a story – one you’re telling with such animation right now.

He joins the children in laughter when you imitate a creature: an elephant, he reckons, though he’s never seen one in real life. Subsequently, you use your arm as a trunk and even start to make the strangest sounds to mimic the animal. Peels of the sound of amusement resonate throughout the open space. Even the court ladies you’d initially came with join soon afterwards, making their best impressions of different animals.

The sight was most endearing. You’re a natural when it comes to children, Jungkook attests to himself. You were patient, caring, and kind – all the traits of a good mother already inherent in you. It was no question that you child will grow up to be just as wonderful as you are.

Being a widow though? Not so much.

Despite the bountiful radiance brought about by these children, he could still see the sadness in your eyes. Gone are your usually bright orbs, mirth and brilliance swimming freely in your pupils.

It’s only been a week since the news of Seokjin’s passing and the announcement of your pregnancy. You’d maintained your cheeriness but Jungkook fears it all might have been just a façade because your smiles never reached your eyes unlike before.

Jungkook knew you were strong. Even the whole palace would agree on that fact. You were stronger than anyone could ever admit and you were far stronger than you think you were. It was a trait of yours that even only the bravest could only hope to be bestowed with. Your resilience was one of your many characteristics that Jungkook admired so much.

But at the same time, he fears this mask of courage you put on was going to be the same thing that was going to destroy you slowly from the inside.

Jungkook understood where you were coming from. Truly, he did. He’s dealt with enough royals all his life to know that a simple display of weakness could be perceived for something far greater than it is. Royals are groomed and nurtured to perfection from the moment they are born, and in their lifetime, they are only afforded a specific set of standards they had to live by strictly, else they lose the respect of the council and subsequently, their people.

It was madness at the least, to think that royals are supposed to be as stiff as their forefathers now commemorated by figures made of stone or some precious mineral. How strangely ironic.

Crown aside, you are but a human being, a woman, who had just lost her husband, and is now burdened with having to deal with your pregnancy alone. On top of all the responsibilities of a queen, including those of which Seokjin had left you.

Jungkook knew he was a mere soldier in your eyes, but he wanted to help you in the hopes to alleviate the pain you were going through; he wanted you to know that he feels your pain and he knows the suffering of one who has likewise lost a loved one.

He knows you’re constantly pre-occupying yourself with these things, always looking for a distraction to forget your personal sentiments. Jungkook could only imagine what struggles you’re going through right now and how badly he wishes he could hold you in his arms and tell you it’s going to be alright and he’s going to be there for you no matter what.

“Jungkook? Captain?”

“Huh?”

Jungkook scrambles to his feet as he sees you looking down on him as he rested by the bark of the tree. “Jungjeon-mama!”

Chuckling, you remove a stray leaf that stuck itself to his pants. Jungkook’s heart flutters at the small gesture. “Are you alright, captain? I’ve been calling for you but you seem busy staring off into the distance…” He gulps.

“Alright. Will you accompany me to the doltap shrine then?”

“Of course, Mama.”

Just like before, the two of you walk in comfortable silence, although the captain beside you looks more tense than ever. “Jungkook. Are you sure you’re alright? If you’re unwell, I can just go on my own. You can head back to your quarters.”

The captain quickly shakes his head, but when you meet his eyes, there’s a heavy weight in his stare that you wish to mention, but you don’t want to push his boundaries any further, especially when the two of you had been closer than any of you would have imagined.

You look away as you reach the top of the tiny slope, the dock finally in view. Jungkook immediately offers his elbow for your support, and you place a hand on the same with much gratitude.

He steps into the tiny boat first, readying the oars where he can reach them easily for later. Extending a hand out, he beckons you over to the canoe. Due to an unknown factor, you miss the gap between the boat and the dock, tripping slightly as you get inside. “Mama! Our– the baby!” You laugh at your own clumsiness before placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’m fine! I’m fine… stop acting like I’m a porcelain doll…” you joke, settling yourself on the seat.

“I’m just concerned about your well-being,” Jungkook mumbles, not meeting your eyes as he fixes the oars with a pout on his face. What a big baby. Gently, you put a hand on his knee, urging him to look at you, “I know,” you give him a warm smile, “and I’m very thankful to have you nearby all the time.”

It was the whole truth. Ever since Minho came barging in with your husband’s clothes and until the announcement of your pregnancy with the council, Jungkook has always been there. Since then, you’d opted to stay inside your hanok most of the day, unless you had to come out for your official duties.

He’d always be there, waiting outside your hanok as you’re about to leave for your responsibilities. You’d even suggested having Yunho come with you instead but the stubborn captain insisted, telling you it is his greatest honor to be your personal guard.

The boat pushes forward and you tilt your head back slightly, enjoying the cool, crisp air. “It’s a beautiful day today isn’t it?”. Jungkook smiles this time, “Certainly, wangbi.”

You decide to leave the shrine late in the afternoon as Jungkook wasn’t able to bring a lamp with him. The sky is becoming a lovely purple, and as the captain manages to safely bring you both back across the river, you make your final request of the day from him. “Why don’t we sit here a while longer? Enjoy the sunset perhaps?” You’re already patting the grass beside you, leaving Jungkook no choice.

Jungkook finally gathers up the courage to ask you this time, “How about you, Mama? Are you alright?” Jungkook doesn’t know what kind of response to expect but he hopes that you will be able to recognize the true depth of his sudden inquiry.

You don’t answer at first. It seemed as if you were trying to gather your thoughts before you reply. “I’m alright,” you retort with a smile. There it is again – the ingenuine grin. “Taehyung had just visited me yesterday to recommend meals I could have prepared that will give me and the baby enough nutrition.”

Right, you were also pregnant. He almost forgot that for a moment. That was another reason he couldn’t sleep at night – could he possibly be a fath-

“How I wish my child’s father was still here to witness him or her grow up.”

Oh. Right. Jungkook chokes back a sob.

This was only one of the many times he’d realized he’d been a fool all along, but this realization had been the most painful yet.

Just as if on cue, Jungkook feels something cold hit his cheek from above. There’s a grey cloud reigning over them, like it’s giving a warning signal of the storm that’s about to come.

He turns to you, worry apparent in his features once more. “Mama, we have to go back!” Just then, there’s a downpour of water, evidently drenching you both. He extends his arm out, even offering you a ride back home on his back. You stand up on your own though, but you don’t take his hand, nor did you follow him back to the palace.

“Mama?”

“Let’s stay for a little while longer.”

“But you might catch a cold, mama.”

“Since when was a cold fatal?” The smile on your face is almost devilish and Jungkook finds himself powerless to say no. “Come on!” you urge, clapping excitedly. “When was the last time you played under the rain?”

“When I was a kid?”

“All the more reason to have fun then!”

The last time he purposefully stayed under the rain was with you, and he promised himself that he would never do it again if you weren’t going to be with him.

You were both young and your rendezvous at the southern forest were nothing short of cherished moments. There were days when the downpour was ultimately unavoidable, especially when you’re playing in the middle of the forest. Rain hadn’t stopped you both from meeting nonetheless. There were also days when he just waited at your designated meeting place, only accompanied by the angry clouds while his body shivered from the cold.

When the years had passed by, Jungkook didn’t find anything enjoyable with staying under the rain so he stayed indoors most of the time, unless it was part of his official duties. Besides, everything else seemed to lose its purpose if you weren’t in it.

Life for him was a storm he was waiting to pass, but since he’d met you that day in the forest all muddy, he learned that life was about learning how to dance in the rain. Ironically enough, you were also the sun that brought light to his life, providing him with enough energy to last for centuries.

You feel something by your feet, prompting you to jump into Jungkook’s arms in fright. The captain gets surprised by your actions, causing him to almost lose his footing. Jungkook looks down to see any damage and sees a brown slimy creature camouflaging with the grass, “Mama, it’s just a frog…”

You frown adorably, giving him a hard time with an irresistible pout. How he wishes he could just kiss you right now. “I’m not particularly fond of these creatures…” You gasp when another one croaks, tightening your grip around the captain’s arms. Jungkook’s mouth twitches in silent celebration at your touch. He may or may not have flexed his muscles too on purpose – but that was most likely a primary instinct when the woman of your dreams encourages physical contact, albeit subconsciously.

Jungkook’s jubilation is cut short when more frogs start to appear out of nowhere, causing you to squeeze even tighter, your grip bordering on pain. For some unknown, you’ve managed to latch on his back with your constant avoidance of the tiny, slimy creatures. “Jung!” you shout, now relentlessly slapping his arm; Jungkook huffs - so much for his fantasies. “We have to get out of here Jungkook!!”

The quick-witted captain crouches low enough, telling you to jump on his back. He didn’t need to actually tell you though, because the moment he’d turned around you already had your hands hooked over his shoulders, trying to get him to hurry. Because of all the movements and the noise, the frogs share the same level of alarm as you – one even manages to fasten itself on your shoe. You flail your foot about, subsequently making it fly about a few feet away and thus, making Jungkook burst into laughter.

He remembers the time he’d surprised you with a frog inside a box in front of the whole class, and now you’d managed to get a whole army of frogs chasing you both. It was a living nightmare – for you at least, Jungkook on the contrary though, is positive that he’s having the time of his life watching frogs terrify you.

Just as expected, Jungkook loses his breath from laughter, setting you down gently as you go over the slope. You’re a little bit too hesitant to let go though, that even when Jungkook has turned to face you, you’re still clinging onto his jeogori as if your life depended on it. It’s a relief when he hears you giggle in his chest, assuring him that you were no longer frightened.

Only silence remained as the laughter dies down. There’s the muted croaking of the frogs in the distance, but other than that, you’re left standing in his arms, quiet as ever. “Is it alright if I hold you like this for a while?”

Your sudden request throws the captain off guard. He’s powerless to say no, not when this is the moment he’d been waiting and imagining for years. “Can we just stay like this for a moment longer, Mama?” His voice almost breaks, pleading at the least.

“Of course, Jungkook.”

It seems like a hug is what you both just need.

Just as the rain pours over them, Jungkook feels his own tears rolling down hotly against his cheeks, contrasting the cold droplets of rainwater. His heart hurts. He’s crying.

Actually, you both are.

You find Yoongi lounging extremely close by the doors of your hanok two days later.

The proximity of the southern king startles you and as a gust of wind blows by, some of his bright yellowish hair fly straight into your mouth, “Yoongi!” He fumbles as he pushes his hair back over his shoulder. “Apologies my queen.” There are at least two strands left in your face and Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to reach out his hand, taking out the strands with such tenderness, shivering when you feel the cold pads of his fingers against your cheek.

It takes you a moment before you realize what’s happening and you pull away, turning on your heel. “What are you doing here anyways?” you ask, sliding your doors close. You’re meant to wake a lot earlier than you did today and if you don’t hurry, you might just miss your music class with the village kids.

Yoongi hurries after you, trying to keep up with your pace, “I was…um…wondering if I could come to your class today?”

“You?” you think out loud, not sparing him a glance. You don’t put much thought to it with your haste to make it in time, and you tell him he’s free to do whatever he wants. He doesn’t say anything else after that, so you quicken your pace towards the palace gardens.

You reach the reserved spot in no time, with the children already settled in, chatting and playing among themselves. Just as you’d requested the night prior, your gayageum has been assembled just underneath the oak tree.

“Jungjeon-mama, who is that ahjussi behind you?” Turning to see who the child was pertaining to, you come to see Yoongi standing behind you, seemingly offended at how he’d been perceived to be way older than he actually is.

“Ahjussi?!” Yoongi exclaims, face twisted into a grimace, “Who are you calling ahjussi, kid?”

The children are taken aback by the tone of his voice, unaware that he hadn’t taken any offense with the child’s question. The poor boy’s lips quiver in fear. You give the southern king a quick glare before calling the boy over and letting him sit on your lap. While Yoongi approaches the both of you with a softened gaze, the boy nuzzles his head by the crook of your neck, murmuring his fright over the man’s temper.

“Hey little bud,” Yoongi crouches, tapping the boy’s shoulder twice to get the latter to face him. The boy peeks slowly from your neck, eyeing the blonde-haired man warily. “I’m sorry about earlier son. I was just surprised because no one had ever called me that –“

He wasn’t actually going to explain it is he? You clear your throat, interrupting him. Yoongi’s mouth presses into a thin line.

“Right. Say, could you tell me your name?”

“It’s Jinseo.”

“Hello, Jinseo. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Yoongi. Could I make it up to you by playing a song?”

Jinseo paused, head titled slightly to the right as if in deep thought. “It isn’t mine to give you permission. You should ask Mama,” he says smartly, pointing at you. Kids are getting smarter these days.

“Jungjeon-mama?” Yoongi asks with an expectant look. With the other children following suit, you are left with no other choice but to say yes. Reluctantly, you lift yourself up together with Jinseo and taking a spot next to the other children.

“Let me just try to…” Yoongi adjusts himself on the seat, plucking the strings in an uncoordinated manner, “remember…” All of a sudden, he claps like he’d just produced gold from thin air, startling everyone around. “I got it! I got it now, don’t worry.”

You and Jinseo share a look.

If there was any discipline of the arts you could take pride for in yourself, it would have been music. Your father, King Daesin of the south, aside from occasionally practicing medicine, also had the ear for music. He had taught you how to play the gayageum, an instrument you’ve been acquainted with for as long as you could remember. Because of fair years of playing, you could freely boast to anyone that you’re quite exceptional at it, but now with Yoongi and his hands on your beloved instrument... Yoongi was tremendously better at it than you probably ever will be.

A smile creeps onto your face when you realize his acting earlier, pretending to be a beginner with the instrument when he could totally be mistaken for a musical prodigy. What a humble bragger. Yoongi had his eyes closed, pouring his emotion and soul onto the instrument, and even without having to enunciate lyrics to get the message across, it was clear to everyone that the song conveyed sadness in all forms. Each vibration of the string – every sound it made spoke in volumes, moving everyone present in class. By the time he’d finished, all the children were as silent as mice, rigid as statues. This was the first time you’ve seen them all well-behaved.

It also dawns on you that this was the first time any of you were deeply moved by music.

The rest of the class stay silent moments later, all in deep contemplation despite the differences in your ages. From your side, you hear a child sigh to the girl in front of her, “I came to class happy this morning. Now I’m sad.” All of a sudden, Jinseo scrambles out of your lap and rushes to Yoongi, hugging the older man’s side in an awkward manner. Yoongi is caught off guard by the gesture, patting the little boy’s head in a similarly awkward manner.

“Ahjussi,” Jinseo calls once more, maintaining his hold on Yoongi’s waist. The southern king heaves a deep sigh, knowing he’s going to have to deal with that a lot longer than he intended to be. “Why are you sad? You played sad music for us. Now we’re all sad too.” Yoongi is rendered speechless and looks at you with wide eyes, seeking for your help. “Uh...Jinseo, why don’t you ask your Yoongi-hyungnim to play us a happy song then?”

“A happy song!” Sheepishly, Yoongi cheers, clapping his hands in an attempt to get everyone back in high spirits. Thankfully, the children seem to enjoy the idea, so they goad the ahjussi on, wanting to see if he’s just as talented with cheery songs as he is with sorrowful ones.

With a small smile, Yoongi mouths a ‘thank you’ in your direction before placing his hands on the gayageum once more.

“Thank you for saving me a few times earlier during your class,” the southern king says, leaning towards you while he mimics your movements as you wave goodbye to the children. “You haven’t had much experience with children, haven’t you?” you raise a brow at him while a laugh escapes your lips.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Yoongi replies, chuckling to himself.

“It’s good practice though, what you did earlier. One day, you’re going to be a father as well.”

Yoongi eyes you slowly from the side, checking if you realize the gravity of your words. His eyes lower down to your stomach, imagining if the baby growing inside of it was his own blood. Perhaps it was? Perhaps it wasn’t?

He’d been especially concerned about your well-being since last week when shocking news had been continuously delivered right to your arms. He wanted to approach you badly during those rough days, but you were far too pre-occupied to even spare him a second glance. The young king wonders how much of a difficulty it might be for you, but all he wanted was to show you that he was willing to support you in any way that he can.

Yoongi sees Hoseok approach with the jumeoni he’d personally prepared early in the morning. He sees his brother trail not far behind, studying the silk bag in Hoseok’s hands. The southern king had been nervous since last night, continuously practicing his lines to the point where he’s not sure why he’s doing it in the first place. It’s now or never.

“Jungjeon-mama?”

Yoongi winces inwardly as he hears his own voice wavering. Heavens. Why was he so nervous around you? You turn to him with a warm smile. Ah yes – that’s why.

“May I invite you for a walk?” The southern king asks as he beckons his general over who hands him the silk bag. “And lunch perhaps?”

You pause for a moment, recalling your thoughts if you had anything else planned after your music class with the children. Yoongi tries hard to not show too much excitement when he hears your yes. Extending his arm out, he motions for you to walk with him. He feels Jungkook follow you both, and he leans to your side a little, whispering, “I was wondering if we could perhaps…go alone?”

You look at him, as if studying his facial expressions. Turning around, you tell Jungkook to stay put. The captain’s eyes dart back and forth, giving his own older brother a steely gaze before nodding his head and bowing to you. “Don’t worry captain. I’ll scream loudly if anything bad happens,” you tell him as a reassurance.

“In all seriousness, Mama…” Yoongi says, putting on a stern face, even though you are both experiencing clear difficulty with keeping a straight face after hearing Yoongi’s stories. “…do I seriously look like an ahjussi to you?”

You place a hand over your mouth, ineffectively hiding your giggles. Yoongi grimaces, clutching his chest to express his hurt over your reaction. “We can’t blame the kids though. And besides, Jinseo had a valid point.” The young king gives you a playful glare.

Yoongi had been expressing his sentiments over the whole ‘ahjussi’ situation earlier, arguing that he didn’t have enough wrinkles on his face to be even considered one. In Jinseo’s earlier defense though, he stated that only old people had white hair, and if he wasn’t old – why would he even have white hair in the first place. To which, of course, an agitated Yoongi replies: “It’s not white. It’s yellow…ish. And it’s bleach! It’s something I discovered during an overseas travel! A lot of people have this kind of hair color…”

“How are you feeling? Is your pregnancy going well?”

“How did you know about my pregnancy?” Yoongi shrugs as he replies, “Walls are never thick enough to hide news like that.” “Oh.” ‘Oh’ is an appropriate reaction, Yoongi reckons, as he’s had the same sort of response when he’d heard of the news.

“Well, for one, our royal physician Taehyung had scheduled regular visits to keep my condition in check. So there’s that. He advises that as long as keep a stress-free environment, my pregnancy will be just fine.”

Using your chopsticks, you fiddle with the mandu he’s made hours prior, deep in thought as you stare into the distance.

Yoongi hopes that the apparent death of your husband isn’t conducive of stress of a stress-free environment. He makes an inward scoff – as if that’s most likely going to happen. If he’s already thorned by occurrences that seem insignificant to those of the capitol’s then he could only imagine the sort of struggle you have to go through, especially when the backbone of your government is composed of vile men who are strongly displeased by the thought of having a woman on the throne.

The young man lies on his back, stretching out his legs to get rid of the tingling on his soles due to their prolonged sitting. With a long exhale, he closes his eyes, letting his thoughts drift along with the steady breeze.

He knows he’s neglecting his duties as the king of the south by prolonging his stay here, but Seokjin’s death won't settle with him nicely. He has to get to the bottom of this. Even if he’s still holding a grudge against Seokjin for taking you away from the south (and had even secretly wished him dead at some point) he could never plunge a sword to another king, much more to the same one who had taken care of the woman he wanted to call his wife.

He hears rustling from your side, and Yoongi opens his eyes a little to check on you. He watches you clean the bowls and reorganize them back onto the bag he’d brought. You slowly start to turn to face him and Yoongi quickly shuts his eyes, solely relying on his other sense to figure out what’s happening.

“Oh? You must’ve fallen asleep huh?” Yoongi hears more rustling around. “Maybe you could still listen to me even during slumber…” You inhale deeply, “You know…Seokjin was always good with children.”

Yes. Of course, speaking of the spirit.

“Jinseo was one of his favorite students. Jinseo was actually really shy and quiet at first – yet for some inexplicable reason, Seokjin had successfully helped him to come out of his shell and the little boy has been brighter since. Seokjin was always so playful yet so gentle at the same time that whenever he’d visit our classes the children would go crazy over him.”

Well, that’s nice to hear, especially when he’d made a particularly bad first impression with the children earlier.

There’s momentary silence. Yoongi hears a sniff – and a shaky exhale afterwards.

“I miss him Yoongi.” Another sniff. “I miss him so much that it hurts every day. Everything reminds me of him.” The sound of your silent crying rings throughout his ears, yet he can't bring himself to get up and wipe them away, fearing it might cause you to stop pouring your heart out.

Mourning was part of healing. You’d feel lighter after crying. At least that’s what he’d learned from having lost his mother too.

At the same time, Yoongi feels his chest constrict at your words. While you pour your fears out to his sleeping form, he struggles with maintaining a stoic face to keep his act up. His empathy is fighting to register in his features, and when he can no longer hold it in, he turns his back to you, swallowing back his emotions that threaten to pour out after years of hiding.

“Jeonha, I can't seem to find any sign of him anywhere.”

Hoseok slowly and carefully gets back up from his crouching position, groaning in relief as he hears his joints cracking as he twists his torso from side to side. Yoongi does the same, shaking his legs one at a time to get rid of the numbness.

It’s been a few hours since they’ve arrived and Yoongi is getting more hopeless with every passing moment. They have searched everywhere for anything – any sign that he’s still alive.

He’d promised you he’d find your husband and bring him back. Even though you hadn’t exactly heard the silent vow of the southern king, he was a man of his word and he’ll be sure to do everything in his capacity to do it.

Yoongi couldn’t even find the reason why he was going to do it or why he should do it in the first place – whether it be for his own peace of mind, for your happiness, or for the future of the country.

He knew they’d left Seokjin that night and the chances that his fellow ruler was still alive was almost slim to none. He knows that trying to look for a clue and actually succeeding was going to be a long shot, especially when it has already been quite some time Yoongi had returned this morning to make sure but after hours of looking, the place was clean and empty, thus pushing down that gut feeling that maybe, just maybe, your husband was still alive.

Else he’d be forced to prolong his stay and resort to more meddling to protect you from harm.

They’ve already gone through this area, Yoongi thinks, recognizing the same stump he’d seen earlier. He settles himself on the tree remainder and picks up a fallen leaf. Just then, something glimmers from the ground and the curious king bends over once more, picking it up. It’s a bracelet.

Yoongi scoffs to himself: an even more shocking discovery. It’s not just any bracelet – it’s the kind of bracelet only royals can have. And if that isn’t the most astounding part of it yet, etched in the gold pendant is the emblem of the south.

Besides you, there could only be one other person who’d be wearing the same. If he’s still alive that is.

The man’s wife places a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder, massaging them gently to ease the tension on his muscles. She’s never seen him his distraught since…since they left their previous home. Eunkyung is unsure how to give her husband the least solace, not when the circumstances only allow them to hope for the best.

For a moment, they stay like that, quiet and observant. In fact, they had been for almost a full moon, just watching the man they had taken into their home. The man had been looking for firewood that early morning, and he’d found this severely wounded man barely alive in the woods.

He’d carried the man on his back and hurried back home, his initial quest and the pains that came with old age completely forgotten. He had closed off one of his rooms reserved for his patients to tend to this not-so-stranger and had let his wife tend to his other patients while he carefully worked this man back to life for weeks.

“Do you think he will still wake?”

The man is unable to answer promptly as he tenderly takes the sick man’s hand in his and says a short prayer to his ancestors, as well as incorporating a lesson he’d learned back when he was still an apprentice – that human touch was an integral part of the art of medicinal healing.

The physician faces his wife and pulls her closer, likewise placing her hand on top of his and letting her join in his silent prayer. His thumb runs over the ring on the man’s finger, remembering a similar one of his own possession quite a few years back.

“He will. That is what I believe and that is what we are also praying for,” the man replies, checking the temperature of the cloth he’d laid on his patient’s forehead. It’s warm when he takes it, and he makes a mental note to cite this observation in his notes.

“Daesin,” Eunkyung calls, touching her husband’s now bare wrists, “your bracelet…where is it?”

The man sighs heavily, deflated as he rests his weight on his calves. “I…I don’t know, really. I must have lost it when I carried him home.”

It was the only thing reminding him of his past, of you, especially. Now it’s gone – but it really doesn’t matter anymore, not when something, or someone else rather had come into his life so easily. His patient was far more important than any bracelet that proved his previous rule over the southern city.

“I really hope he will get better soon.”

“He has to,” Daesin reiterates, hoping they’d eventually come true, “He has to get better because he’s my son-in-law.”

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