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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

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Good Girl [J.JK x Reader]🔞🌼

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, a lil angst

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom!jungkook, sub!Reader, size kink, oral (f & m rec.), mild dd/lg themes, praise kink, cumplay, reader is a virgin, jungkook is lowkey a hoe, a lil heartbreak, Taehyung makes an appearance, long haired jungkook, mentions of harrassment, jungkook punches a guy, strength kink

Jeon Jungkook was known to have a specific type when it came to his partners; tall, gorgeous, dominant and older. It's not like he's a true blood baby boy; he's just too lazy to put any effort into his flings. When a new girl answers to his ad online searching for a roommate for his apartment to share rent and space however, he didn't quite expect such an innocent being to turn up at his doorstep with a box full of pastel colored belongings, ready to move in. And what he definitely didn't expect was his growing interest in her and the feeling of having her under him, all submissive and ready to be ruined.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl || Enticing Girl || Bad Girl || ???

A wink was all he got from the woman who'd occupied his bed together with him last night as she walked out his bedroom door, seemingly knowing how to get out of his apartment. Jungkook ran his hand through his still sweaty hair, groaning after stretching his arms above his head, his mood seemingly sunkissed. He just finished an almost three hour sex-session after all; all without him providing any actual effort. His dick had seemed to be enough for her anyways, her face when she rode him happy, although he could really care less.

Reaching for his laptop near his bed, he didn't bother to put on any clothes for now, just wanting to check if he'd gotten any new E-Mails or messages, clicking through the casual nudes that constantly seemed to slip into his postbox. He cocked his head to the side however when he noticed that a website has notified him of an answer to his ad online; he'd put it up some time ago now after Taehyung, his former roommate, had to move out simply because Jungkook himself couldn't survive the older one's sleep shedule. Tae seemed to never sleep, waking the younger one up on a daily (and nightly) basis. He really tried to get along with him, both of them sharing a deep friendship, but god no, as a roommate he couldn't stand that guy. His rent however was something he struggled as well, so as much as he really wanted to live alone, he couldn't. He clicked the message on the website, his interest peaked.

"Hello. Is this AD still up to date? My name is Y/N, and I'm searching for a place because I'm starting to work close by soon, and its too expensive to take the bus for hours on end every day.. so uh, I don't know? I'm really good at cooking, and I promise I'll be so quiet and organized you won't even notice I'm there! I work at a restaurant nearby as a waitress- I mean, I'm going to, haha. Ugh, I hope you're okay sharing your apartment with a girl as well, I for my part don't have a problem with that! So, I guess, I'll wait for your reply?

Have a nice day!"

He scoffed a little, hovering over the delete button, but instead, he clicked her profile icon, opening the details. Her profile picture showed a white big dog, being hugged by what he assumed was her. He couldn't see her face however, half of her face above her nose cropped out to fit the entire dog instead. He could spot her clothes however; a top and skirt, flat shoes and sheer tights with white spots on them. His brows furrowed, how old was she? Her profile said she was about a year younger than him, every post she'd made up to this date about pet stuff, clothes who all seemed to follow a pastel-color scheme, and artwork you seemed to be selling. You were basically the definition of cute.

Fan-fucking-tastic. Hopefully you wouldn't be too upset when he denied your request, but somehow he thought it over. You said you could cook and you did seem like an organized person. Knowing what kind of effect he could have on people, he could probably scare the shit out of you and keep you around without really having to interact much; and rent was also due this month, so the sooner he found a roommate the better. "Fuck it." He said, and began to type his reply.

When his doorbell rang, he almost burned his hand with the hot water he currently used to make himself a cup of ramen, cursing loudly. Who the fuck wasn't home again so he had to take their package in? One day the old lady across the hall would find a dead rat or something in front of her door, he swore to himself. Ripping the door open with so much force he could feel a bit of wind gushing by, his eyes widened when he saw a similar face in front of him- well, a little below actually. He remembered your lips instantly for some awkward reason, having tried to maybe paint a picture of what you looked like entirely over the last few days. He would've never expected something like this however- you looked like a literal doll in his opinion, your eyes wide open and mouth a little parted, shiny lipgloss making him swallow. Wait, did he really forget that you said you wanted to move in today?!

"I uh.. I'm- I'm Y/N, we- I- the ad..?" You said, your voice sounding nothing like the woman he usually was around. He smirked a little, moving so you could step inside, food now definitely forgotten on the kitchen counter. He really should've at least cleaned up a little he thought. Whatever.

"Yeah, figured. There you go, thats your room. The keys and shit are on the matress, make sure you don't loose 'em." He simply said, before leaving you alone in your new home to settle down.

"What I'm trying to say is, Y/N, you and I, this could really be something!" Taehyung slurred into your ear, loud enough for Jungkook to hear. For some reason it pissed him off to no ends how close the older one seemed to be, constantly hitting on you like he was a starving man, even know half of town knew very well that he wasn't. He could see why; you were innocent, and Tae known to fool around a lot. You were a challenge, something new for him, and he would lie if he said that he wasn't interested as well. Oh he was; but he also had at least some manners left inside of him, contrary to popular belief not only thinking with his dick. Taehyung however was only out for fun, making Jungkook question if he should really let this continue.

He decided no.

"Alright you fucking whore, it's bedtime isn't it? I'll call you a cab." Taehyung groaned at the younger one's words, nodded his head however before looking at you with a smirk.

"Ah, what a shame. But if you wanna have some fun you know my number!" He said, as if he didn't just offer you sex. You blushed at this, not answering, making Jungkook watch you a bit. You really were something else. "Jungkookie, you're so nicee... If I was gay I would definitely suck your dick-" The younger in question made a disgusted yet amused face, putting a hand over the blue haired one's mouth.

"Yeah yeah, you pay me back though you fucker." He said, before going into the kitchen to make the call. Taehyung, being left alone with you again started with his questioning, as he had done the entire night.

"So, Y/N.." He said, dragging out the last syllable of your name playfully, making you shuffle around where you were sitting a bit. He certainly was a pretty attractive guy, but he also seemed to be very straightforward- something you always had struggled with, being more on the shy side. You looked at him, silently urging him to continue before taking a sip of your own beer- cherry flavored, simply because the regular was too bitter in your opinion. "What kind of toys do you use, heh?" He questioned, and you coughed suddenly. Taehyung laughed loudly at that, cooing when you calmed down slowly.

"Taehyung, stop harassing my roommate you fucking idiot. I need her to pay half of the rent-" He said, before sitting down next to you, raising one of his eyebrows at you. "And she also makes some killer lasagna. Kinda wanna keep that." He said, before laughing a bit. Even though Jungkook seemed to be pretty intimidating to you, he was actually a pretty good guy to have around. You both barely ever fought, and overall you could almost see yourself falling for him too- he had the looks after all. But his habit of bringing people over just to satisfy himself was something that made you keep some distance between you both. He wasn't someone to settle down- let alone with someone like you. You were pretty much the exact opposite of what he seemed to like.

Sending Tae home was easier than you both thought. Not being able to go to bed you both decided to watch some late night shows while casually talking- something that wasn't uncommon between you two. Just when you seemed to have gotten comfortable again, Jungkook couldn't help but tease you again.

"So, what Toys do you use, heh?" He said, laughing with his head thrown back afterwards at your red face. This would certainly never get old in his opinion. Just as he was about to apologize and tell you you didn't have to answer, your voice was heard, however.

"None." You said, and his eyes widened at that. "What? Do I look like I do these things to you?" You asked, and he cocked his head to the side a bit, scanning you obviously. He shrugged, and you began to pout, moving to wrap your pastel pink blanket around yourself. "I don't even know how to buy one. That stuff is just.. don't know. Gross." You said, and Jungkook turned on the couch, body facing you now, his interest sparked.

"Gross? So you never had sex before?" He said, and you went silent. Were you serious right now? You were an angel in his eyes, body proportions almost perfect, hell, even your slight imperfections were adorable in his eyes. Up until now he had been sure that you at least have had your fair share of experience, but a virgin? His world was suddenly turned upside down. "Well.. that's something I didn't expect." He said, making you raise your eyebrows at him. "You're hot. Thats why. Oh well." He said, missing the way your eyes widened at that. "I'm gonna go to bed now. Goodnight." He simply said, and you answered with a short 'goodnight' as well- still a bit surprised by his statement. Jungkook thought.. you were attractive?

He'd somehow gotten used to you, how you would leave your pastel pink but admittedly really soft blanket in a pile on one edge of the couch in the living room, how you sometimes left your toothbrush in the sink when you'd been in a hurry, or how you would hum to a song, not knowing he could hear you very clearly. Maybe he really did go soft after living with you for a while. He still didn't know himself why he got so upset with Taehyung the day prior; was he really being selfish? He was protecting you, nothing more. Taehyung was everything but a gentle lover, jungkook just knew he'd break you for sure, not to mention that you already stated how much you despised one night stands, which were practically Taehyungs speciality. He was just looking after you, nothing more.

The more he thought about it however, the more problematic the entire plan became.

But even now, while the young woman whose name he had already forgotten was giving it her all sucking his dick, all that seemed to swim around in his head were the events of the previous evening; how innocent and embarrassed you looked at him when you told him you'd never bought, let alone use a toy before. Surely you'd be someone to enjoy a good vibrator he thought, maybe as a gag he could buy you one? Oh how enchanting you'd look, spread out on his mattress while he would edge you over and over until you'd be crying, begging for his mercy. He would praise you for taking it so well, for being so good for him and only him, and he just knew you would blush. Instead of rushing to his own satisfaction, he would go slow, agonizingly slow, just to see how far he could push you. He would feast on you like a predator on his prey, pull you close so you had no chance of escaping him, he would trace every curve of your skin, gently, as if to make up for the bruises and Mark's he would surely leave all over you to feed his inner need to claim you, even though he would never let anyone see you like this while he was alive and breathing anyways. He just knew you would fit perfectly underneath him, his body covering you and shielding you away from the world around. Would you be able to take all of him? He probably would have to stretch you real good before even thinking about pushing his dick inside you, yet he just knows you would somehow make him proud and take it all, and he would continue his praises, telling you what a good girl you are.

He almost laughed at the situation, he really was in deep, wasn't he? Frustrated and confused he started to picture someone else entirely kneeled between his legs on the floor, how you'd bat your eyelashes at him like the fucking angel you were instead of the girl currently there, and that thought alone gave him the final push to shoot his load down the strangers throat, who moaned obscenely at the feeling. Usually he would be aroused, ready for more, but the sound of someone who wasn't his little roommate ripped him out of his daydream. This couldn't go on like that. Sending the lady out without many words, he decided that he just needed to fuck you, and all would be good again. He was just curious. Nothing else. He just needed to satiate his hunger and he could go back to normal.

How would he be able to do this without ending up hurting you? No matter how big his hunger for you was, he also considered you somewhat of a friend. He remembered when you came home crying one time after a bad day at work, and how he wanted to hold you, shielding you from any harm, making you feel safe. Because that's what he, and only he could do in his opinion. No matter what, he'd protect you, as weird as that sounded. Shit.

He really had a crush on you.

Unknowing to him you always held your hands over your ears whenever he brought home a different girl, not being able to listen to his moans mixed with someone else's. You were slowly beginning to regret moving in, already starting to think about maybe searching for a different apartment. But the rent was cheap, your room big, and his company relaxing when he wasn't busy being buried in someone he couldn't even remember after a day or two. Somehow tears were leaking out of your eyes, and you took your hands down from the sides of your head to wipe them away, careful to be as silent as possible as to not alert him that you were awake, well aware of the shower turning on. You did notice however how his sessions became shorter and shorter, always seeming to end sudden instead of usual. But the more you thought of it, the more angry at yourself for falling for this manwhore you became. You really should hate him- but you couldn't.

Tonight was definetely the prime example of why you didn't go into clubs. The sheer amount of people around you, the smell of sweat and cheap cologne and perfume all around made you feel like a headache was inevitable. Why were you here again? Oh yes. You followed Taehyungs advice and 'tried to make friends' instad of looming around your apartment all day. But right now you just really wished you stayed home instead of going here.

Sure, you liked your coworkers, and they seemed nice and everything, but if you were being honest, they're definition of fun was entirely not yours. You began to feel cramped up in the large club, making you desperately pull your phone out of your pocket, texting Jungkook in hopes he could save you from this god forsaken torment they called a club.

Minutes later, after Jungkook oh so gentlemanly told you to pick you up, you stood in front of that said location, waiting for his cheap but admittedly nice car to pull up. Sadly, someone else seemed to be way more intent on bringing you home- a young man your age, attractive, yes, but also heavily intoxicated. He had already eyed you up inside the building you noticed, yet hadn't made a move towards you. Now however, he seemed more determined than ever.

"Lets go home baby, I swear you won't regret-" He started, but you moved away from him, clenching onto your little handbag in order to at least keep your belongings safe if he tried anything else. Suddenly both your figures were drowned in the warm light of Jungkook's car lights- you immediately recognized them simply by the fact that one was brighter than the other, something you always told him, yet he always waved you off, telling you that both were doing just fine, even though his left light was clearly almost dead. Typical him, you thought. Yet right now, you couldn't be happier to see him.

He however, did not seem happy at all. His face was serious, his wavy hair hanging a little over his eyes, steps fast and strong enough that you could hear his black boots almost crush the slight gravel of the parking lot. "Fuck off sunnyboy and go back inside." He simply yelled out, having already seen how uncomfortable you were with the stranger so close to you. Jungkook wasn't someone to blindly punch someone, that said however, he couldn't contain himself once he saw the guy reaching out for your arm, your figure instinctively scrambling to get behind Jungkooks way larger body. He didn't even notice his fist connecting with the strangers face, simply leading you by the small of your back inside his car, driving home without any more words.

You were not to be touched by someone so dirty like this young man who didn't even knew his own limits it seemed.

Yet you were completely confused now. Maybe, if you were now the reason he got into physical fights, you should make a decision.

The next morning, sitting down at the kitchen table, you watched Jungkook filling your bowl with cereal as well- lucky charms for you, and chocolate chips for him. It became somewhat of a routine since you both woke up roughly around the same time, sharing breakfast was common. The best moment in your opinion to pop the bomb.

"I'm moving out." You said softly, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, leg nervously bouncing up and down. Why did this feel like you were breaking up with him? You both would've ended up going separate ways sooner or later anyways- so he would probably just nod, ask when, and that would be it. He was someone who didn't bother much. But the second you said it, he turned around completely shocked, suddenly very much awake.

"Why? Did I do something?" He asked, sounding genuinely offended for some reason you couldn't come up with. In his mind, scenario over scenario started to play, as if he wanted to search for something he may have said or done to make you so upset that you didn't want to live with him anymore. He knew he shouldn't be so upset over it, since you and him were merely roommates, friends who shared an apartment, nothing more, but he never really expected you to come up with it so sudden. Or maybe you had a boyfriend? What if it was Taehyung, and you just didn't tell him? He would rip that fucker's stupid blue hair out, he knew-

"No. I- not reall-" You sighed, setting your elbows on the kitchen table before letting your head fall into your hands. "Actually yes, you did." You started, looking at him, but unable to hold eye contact with the now completely confused curly haired boy in front of you. "You.. uh.. I cant sleep. Your, 'guests', the walls aren't really soundproof and like, I really- and just.. ugh this is so awkward, please don't make me say it-" You said, groaning the rest of your sentence before stubbornly shoving your back against the chair, throwing your legs back and forth viciously, reminding Jungkook of a kid who was close to throwing a tantrum. Even though this was definitely not the time to think about you laid out over his leg, his hand hitting your perfectly shaped butt until it was red just to punish you for being such a brat, exactly this picture began to form in the back of his head. He hated himself somehow, really. But somehow instead of accepting your decision, he moved to stand at the table, hands on top of it, eyes searching yours.

"Say it Y/N. You know I hate when I have to pull thing out your throat sweetheart." He didn't intend on using the nickname, but somehow he threw his hesitation out the window. If you really were fooling around with someone, someone who wasn't him he wanted to know- and even if you didn't share that information with him, you would move out anyways, so why hold back anymore? You shook your head at him, avoiding his gaze, and he clicked his tongue, patience slowly thinning out. "Spit it out." He said again, but he still got no reaction. His hand seemed to move without his consent when he suddenly found his fingers on your chin, moving your head to force your attention towards him. "Speak the fuck up, I swear to god." He said, voice dropping down lower, and somehow you seemed as if bewitched.

Maybe it was the way he stood there, how he still held your chin, or how intensely he looked at you, but words dropped out of your mouth as if you drank harry potters truth potion. "I cant stand that you let these girls touch you, that they can get you so easily and you just look past me a- and I really tried you know, because Taehyung said you liked mature girls more so I tried to do that, but he lied to me, you don't notice me at all, you're so mean you-" He shut your mouth with his mouth, trying to process the information he just received, yet it seemed like it was too much at once. You were.. jealous? And what kind of stupid advice was Taehyung giving away, that fucker? It was true that he liked his women to be confident and mature, but that was just so they knew what they were doing, and he didn't need to put so much effort into something he could get so easily.

"So you were jealous?" He said, a small smirk creeping up on him, cooing at you internally when you shook your head, face red. "If you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked. Geez." He said, but instead of being relieved, your shoulders sagged down. "What?" He asked, and you mumbled to him.

"Because I don't want just that one time stuff you do." Jungkook looked at you, eyes softening at your somehow-confession. He just put together the pieces in his head, and it did make sense. You were practically attached to him wherever he took you, always seemingly glowing whenever his attention was on you. He was as much as a dense head than you were, and he couldn't help but pull out a chair and sitting down, patting his legs as an invitation.

"Good, because I don't want that either. And I don't share either." He said, and looked at you gently, but with a deep darkness behind his eyes. "Trust me baby, you can sit down now and I promise you'll be the only one to have me- or you can move out and go on with your life." He almost laughed at the way it suddenly clicked in your head on what he was offering, suddenly jumping up and sitting on his thighs, legs on either side of his body. He looked down at you, a divine picture coming to life. His hands were placed on the exposed skin under your skirt, slowly sliding over the soft skin until his fingers felt the seam of your tights- those goddamn things he'd wanted to rip off of you so badly these past days. "You can touch me, you know?" He said lowly, and you noticed how awkward you must've looked for a second, seated on his lap with your hands in front of you, unsure where to put them. Just to ground yourself, your fingers began to play with his shirt, and he had to swallow the laugh that wanted to break free. "You don't have to do this, you know? I'm fine with waiting-" He began, but you immediately shook your head, however, at loss for words. He smiled again, dangerously so you noticed. His head dipped down, finally touching your skin on your neck with his lips, leaving open mouthed kisses under your earlobe down to the crook, hands moving over your clothes already mapping out your body in his mind, one hand pulling down one side of your soft fleece jacket you wore, pulling down your shirt as well, so he could softly nip at your shoulder, making you gasp oh so cutely at his actions. His hands didn't stop however, moving over your chest, kneading both of your breasts softly, as if he would hurt you if he used too much strength- which was probably the case. He already loved how bis his hands looked running over your body, how your hands held his shirt in fists, eyes closed, yet not because of fear; you looked serene to him, face showing him the soft pleasure you felt. He suddenly moved you a little, making you straddle one of his leg, core pushed against his thigh. "Let's start slow, yeah?" He asked, whispering words into your ear, lips never parting from you. He slowly began to move your hips, urging you to simply follow what you thought felt best to you. "Use me baby. Get off on my thigh." You whined at that, slowly starting to move more and more boldly, and he decided that he was officially a goner. Even if you didn't want him after whatever may be happening, he knew he could never go back. The way you squeezed your eyes shut every now and then, moving back and forth yet always a bit helpless, showing how inexperienced you were. He could feel the wet patch forming on his jeans, his hands moving you a bit faster, before you let your head fall onto his shoulder, making him chuckle. "What is it baby? Do you need help, hm?" He said, a bit mockingly even, and you nodded into his shoulder. "Tell me what you need then. What do you want, princess?" He said, running his hands over your back, feeling your bodyheat through your clothes.

"wanna get the same.. as the others.." You mumbled, unsure what you were even asking for. Jungkook however simply smiled, suddenly lifting you up, hands under your behind carrying you to his room, before finally letting you fall onto his mattress, laughing when your body jumped a little, making you squeak so cutely. He smiled, crawling over you, his fantasy finally coming to life- you looked so lost under him, so utterly defenseless he could swear he could feel something primal awake inside him- and that was not his dick, which already strained against his jeans, impatient.

"Ah but Baby.." He began, taking off your soft jacket before his hands traced your bare arms until he moved them under your shirt, feeling your skin underneath his fingers. "You're my special girl.." He began to lift your shirt up, helping you out of it before he got rid of your skirt as well, chuckling at your cute lacey underwear, which was so typically you. So innocent, yet so arousing, how you squirmed underneath him in nothing but those pastel colored undergarments. "And special girls get special treatments.." His words were low, soft spoken yet with a rough edge to his tone, a natural feature of his voice that you've come to love. You couldn't even begin to paint out a picture of what he was talking about- sure, you have seen your fair share of adult films, you weren't a kid after all- but up until this moment, up until you met Jungkook, you've never really thought about what you could like when it came to these things. Even in your thoughts you felt shy saying any profanities out loud, how could you expect to know about kinks? "But only if you can behave for me, but you can do that right?" He said, unhooking your bra behind your back with ease and interrupting your inner talk with yourself. "You'll be my good girl, yeah?" He said, and you just viciously nodded, already growing frustrated, and oh how he loved it. This was how he had pictured you. If he had known before that this was what it felt like to have control over someone, he would've never done anything else if he was honest; but then again, you really were a special girl to him. The way you suddenly mewled when his hand cupped your heat, giving you a little pressure just to tease you even further almost caught him off guard. God have mercy on his soul, you were so sensitive to him, and it dawned on him again that he was making you this way. He was the first to- and he would make sure he'd be the only one as well. All those noises tumbling out of between your lips were only his to hear. His breathing peaked up at the view he had, how you began to impatiently rut into his hand, needy for more than he was giving you. He leaned back, finally getting rid of his own clothes as well to your satisfaction, lazily throwing his opened flannel as well as his white shirt somewhere on the floor in his room, and you couldn't help but stare. Truth be told, you didn't really know what to expect of him if you were honest, his constant gym visits giving you the impression that he had to be extremely fit, yet his habit of consuming more than two cups of ramen easily spoke differently. He was, in your eyes, the perfect in-between- he definetely was fit, his abs visible to your eyes, yet he didn't look like those over-achievers you sometimes saw walking around the same gym whenever you met him there to go home together. The way his muscles flexed at every move when he loomed over you again made you want to touch him, yet your shy side forbade you. He chuckled again. "You can touch what's yours all you want, you know?" He said, before he began to place his hand back onto your chest, his breath hot on your collarbone where he placed his kisses again, already hooked on your taste. His other, tattooed hand found its way back to your core, feeling the dampness there with amusement. You were more than what he'd imagined. Slowly he got rid of that barrier however, leaving your tights on for his own pleasure and maybe also for the aesthetic of it, his digits circling around your sensitive bud, making you squeal again, putting your hands over your mouth to keep your voice down. He clicked his tongue at this, moving them to lay right under the small of your back. "Be good and keep them there, yeah?" He said, and you looked away.

"But its- thats emb-" You couldn't even finish the beginning of your rant before he went back to his task at hand, sitting back before moving your legs to spread obscenely over his thighs simply to catch a glimpse of your glistening center, before he placed his body over yours again, hand now roughly circling in delicious eights around your clit, making you gasp out.

"Nothing you do is embarrassing, you hear me. If anything its fucking hot how you can be so fucking adorable even with my hand between your legs, doll." He said, before dipping a finger into you, making you move a bit at the foreign feeling. "Gotta stretch you out babygirl.." He said lowly, careful not to get too fast. His second finger joined in, and he could feel how tight you were around them, already clenching a bit as well, making his mouth water, but also growing a bit of worry in the back of his mind. Usually he was quite cocky about his overly average qualities down in his pants, but now he was genuinely concerned to hurt you with it. This was definitely a first for him. "Baby you're so small.. I don't think you can take it.." He said, a bit of a teasing undertone to his words as well. "See? You're already squeezing my fingers so hard princess, how could my dick ever fit inside huh?" He said, contrary to his otherwise rough nature keeping his movements gentle and slow enough for you to adjust without causing much pain. He could see the slight discomfort in your eyes, yet you suddenly shook your head, voice whiny.

"Uh-uh.." You mumbled, and he laughed a bit at that. "can take it.." You said bratty as ever, feeding his ego to no ends. "Wanna have it- you.. you gon' give it right? 'm good.." You said, having troubles keeping your hands under your back just like he told you to, grabbing the sheets underneath you instead to have something to keep yourself grounded.

Jungkook couldn't stop smiling. You didn't even know what you were asking for, yet you seemed so drowned in trust with him, that you simply gave him the right to do anything he wanted with you. "You sure?" He said, and smiled at the way you nodded again with your eyes closed. He moved away after that, shedding his pants before he walked over to his bedside table, fishing out a condom, before moving back to you, your eyes now on him, or more than that, on his very apparent bulge his boxers failed to conceal. Maybe you really did ask for more than you could take. Quite literally. Sensing your growing uneasiness he simply discarded his underwear, cock finally springing free, slapping soundlessly against his abdomen before he sat between your legs again. You made grabby hands for the foil package in his hands, somehow wanting to slip it onto him, yet he shook his head amused. "Nuh-uh baby. I'm afraid if you touch me right now I'll just embarrass myself and come straight away." He said, and you giggled at that. The sound of it brought him back at ease, his little joke having helped to calm you down at least a little bit. He knew this was a big thing, especially for someone like you- and it made him feel even a bit pressured if he was honest. He was slow when he dipped his head inside, your body instinctively trying to move away a bit, but you forced yourself to stay still, eyes now pressed close. Moving around a bit he kept one hand around the base of himself, the other steadying himself next to your shoulder, kissing you on your lips for the first time since you both started, surprising you enough to not notice how he somehow began to glide into you with the help of your arousal and the lubricant of the condom around him. He groaned, the first actual noise he'd made you could tie to his pleasure, and your breathing picked up once you noticed how full you felt. Gasping several times he suddenly started to laugh, making you giggle as well, even though you didn't knew what was so funny in that situation. "God- ugh.. your- fuck you're tight.." He pressed out, fighting hard against his hips' own mind yelling at him to move, to wreck you, to utterly ruin you. But he couldn't allow himself to do that- reassuring himself that he would have time for that at a later date. He slowly started to move around after he calmed down enough, keeping his speed down to keep it gentle for you. "I- fuck.." He started, having to talk to stretch his patience out, and to also ease your mild pain a little bit. "Let's- ugh.. Let's go on a date tomorrow, yeah? I.. god-" He said, and you nodded, moaning in your delicate pitch he oh so loved. "Gonna be all romantic and shit- fuck- gonna treat you like- for Mcdonald's or some shit." He said, making you both laugh between gasps of pleasure, your hands suddenly frantically moving around the sheets, legs shaking as he began to speed up his pace. You didn't knew what an orgasm would feel like, or how you knew you would have one, but you gasped, chocking on unshed tears in frustration as you noticed that you couldn't tumble over that delicious edge, and Jungkook noticed, cooing at you. "Ah, my baby can't come without her little clit being touched?" He said, kissing the side of your neck, biting the skin teasingly before sucking a hickey on your collarbone, his hands now grabbing yours, fingers intertwining with his, before moving them around his neck, sensing how you wanted to be closer to him, even though that hardly seemed possible. "Come for me baby, you can do it." He said, kissing your shoulder as if to make up for his mark he'd left, his hand now reaching between your bodies, only needing to put a bit of pressure on your little nub to send you flying. You moaned out loud, uncaring on how you sounded, clinging onto him for dear life, his own release making him groan out as well.

He could feel your body trembling, your breathing still fast. He waited for a moment or two for himself to soften up so he could pull out gently- your still slightly clenching hole almost pushing his dick out of yourself. You whined at the empty feeling, and he hushed you gently, moving around so he was sitting up against his headboard, your body on his lap, head on his shoulder. His hand moved back and forth over your spine, the other keeping your body steadily against him. "You did so, so good baby." He gently whispered between your breaths still coming out a little faster than they should. "To be honest I actually was kind of worried you wouldn't be able to take it. I'm impressed princess." He said, making you giggle. You still weren't quite back yet, still bathing in your own afterglow, and he simply waited for you to calm down- slowly becoming aware of your surroundings again.

"Hey, Jungkookie.." You started with that nickname Taehyung always teased him with, yet you would get away with it anytime on his watch. He simply moved his head to look at you, even if you weren't at him. "Did you.. like, mean it? Are we.. a couple now, or?" You started a bit too softly, yet you didn't have to be scared of his answer to that.

He took a deep breath, before yawning a bit. "If you want us to be. I know I want to." He started, brushing some hair away from your eyes. You looked at him, big eyes so innocent like he didn't just fuck you into his mattress literally minutes ago.

"I want to!" You immediately said, making him chuckle and place a kiss on your nose, receiving a giggle at that, before you tensed up. He raised his eyebrows at that, before you looked at him surprised. "My legs are all- tingly.. Jungkook did you break me- HEY don't laugh!" You said, but he couldn't help himself.

He threw his head back, laughing his admittedly cute open laugh, before wrapping his arms around your body. "God I love you." He simply said, making you smile.

"Hey Jungkookie?" You said after a bit.

"Yeah Princess?" He answered.

"That McDonald's date still stands, right?" You said with a small voice, making him snort.

"Anything you want princess. Anything you want."

Taglist:

@mrcleanheichou @sugasbratz @sassysaxsolo @bananagukkie @wh3resangel @urmomgee

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #bts smut #dom!Jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #reader insert

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Text

I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair

I reached that 500 followers everyone! So in celebration of all the people who I love dearly, this is the first part of my 10 things I hate about you series that I’m doing.

Heads up that the next part might take a while to post, especially since I’ve been posting the work I get each week, y’all see the amount of stuff I have to do. Part two is already started, but it’s just gonna be a minute before it’s ready.

I hope you guys like it, and thank you again for 500 followers 💛💛💛

Read the whole series: I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

________________________

“How long are we going to keep dancing around the fact that you and I are meant for each other?”

“How long is it going to take you to understand that I hate so much about you?”

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

“Alright, chica, are we meeting the guys there, or are we stopping by their place? What’s the plan for tonight?” Evelina asks, sitting down on the couch next to you.

“Last I heard, we were meeting them at their place but if you don’t get ready fast enough, we have to meet them there,” you tell her, lifting her off the couch before she can get too comfortable and make you late.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, your other best friend texting you a stupid meme that he found online, followed by a sexual innuendo that was normal for your friendship. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how he talked to you, a stupid smile covering your face as you drag Evelina to her room in the hopes that she’ll get ready in a timely manner.

“Is that your man?” she asks, sitting down in front of her mirror, hopefully, to start her makeup.

“He’s not my man,” you protest, not tearing your eyes off your phone, responding to him with an equally snarky and somewhat crude response.

“You’re sexting him as we speak. I can tell, you have that stupid grin on your face that you only get when it’s him replying to you,” she fires back, starting on her makeup. God you hoped she wouldn’t put much on tonight; you were supposed to be meeting the guys in half an hour at one of their houses.

Her comment, however, makes you look up from your phone. “I don’t think you know what sexting is. I am fully clothed. This is not sexting.”

“I will look up the definition of sexting and make us late. But, are you really wearing that tonight?” she asks you, making eye contact with you through her mirror just in time for her to see you roll your eyes. “Take something from my closet; if you’re going to see him tonight then you need to be wearing something better. You get up from her bed in a huff, going to her closet to try to find something there that was remotely your style. Evelina’s clothes were great, they just weren’t things that you would wear. “And you don’t need clothing off just to consider it sexting.”

“He’s literally just my other best friend. Maybe you’re jealous that I’m closer to him than I am to you!” you yell to her from her closet. “And hurry up with the makeup or I’m picking out your outfit.”

“That’s mean,” she says, a slight dig on your sense of style, or lack thereof. “I just need my eye makeup, calm down.” She leaves you in silence to rummage through her wardrobe. You hope that her non-follow up meant that she had dropped the conversation topic about your admittedly weird relationship with him.

She eventually meets you in her closet, pulling out the perfect outfit for herself in a matter of seconds while you struggle to find something. There was a reason why you were wearing the jeans and sweater you already had on; you didn’t like anything else at this point. “What about this?” she asks, handing you a crop top and a flannel to go over it. You give her an unsure look, not really wanting to change at it was. “Come on!” she begs, “This is so much sexier than what you have on now.”

“Why do I need to be sexy?” you argue, taking the clothes from her and changing into them anyway.

She rolls her eyes, knowing that the two of you have the same conversation nearly every week. “You literally sext him constantly,” she repeats in a sing-songy voice.

“It’s not sexting!” you say at the same time, her mimicking you with a slightly higher pitched voice than the one you already make. “You clearly like him. You never come home with me when we go out with them.”

“Maybe that’s because I go home with someone else.”

She laughs, calling your bluff, “You go home with the same curly-haired boy every single week. Admit it: you’re in love with Matthew and he’s in love with you.”

“We’re. Just. Friends,” you argue again, going out to see how the outfit looks on you. “Are you sure this looks alright?” As much as you hated the idea of the crop top, revealing as much skin as you did, she was right that it looked better on you than the sweater.

“Something’s missing,” she says, standing behind you. “And you literally send me a Snapchat from his bed every weekend. He’s never wearing a shirt in those snaps, I might add.”

She leaves you to stare at yourself in the mirror. She could not be more wrong about your feelings for him: he was your best friend, that was it. “He just sleeps without a shirt, the same way you don’t wear pants when you sleep. That’s right, I know you put those shorts on when you wake up.”

“We’re roommates. You know everything about me. That’s not a weird thing to know,” she says. “Why are you so stubborn to admit that you like him?”

“I hate way more about him than I like,” you try to counter. The same argument every week meant that you were running out of original ideas about how to tell her the same thing.

She comes out of her closet, holding a pair of black wedge booties, shoving them in your hands. “Name one thing you hate about him.”

“I hate the way he wears his hair. He’s got amazing curls and yet he lets them hang over that weird side shave of his? Either have it shaved like he did when he was drafted, or go full curls. Pick one.”

She rolls her eyes, getting her own shoes on as your phone buzzes on her bed. “That’s weak. He’s also texted you five times in the last ten minutes.”

“Probably because he’s wondering why we’re running late, even though he knows you’re never on time for anything.” She tosses you your phone. You see the messages asking you where you are, telling you to just meet them there because the guys got too antsy waiting for the two of you to be on time for once. “That’s something I hate about you: you’re always late,” you tell her, hoping that she would drop the subject.

“Join the club. So does my mom.” She gets up, pulling you up with her and admiring the two of you in the mirror before turning to face you. “If you can think of ten things that you hate about Matthew Tkachuk, ten legitimate things that overpower your ability to love him, then I will drop the subject of you and him dating entirely until you bring it up yourself.”

You look at her, trying to figure out if she were serious or not. You loved Evelina more than anyone, definitely more than you loved Matthew, who you didn’t love at all. But her biggest fault was her constant need to gossip. “Does the hair thing count? And how long do I have to come up with the list?”

“Fine. And I’ll give you a month, starting now. In one month, if you don’t have nine more reasons for hating him, then you’re going to hear about how you and him should be together until you get married. If not, then you have to ask him out on a date.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to have to ask him out if you can’t give her the ten satisfactory reasons. But, come on, you could think of so many things you hated about him, just none are coming to mind. “Deal,” you decide, grabbing her hand to lead her out the door.

“You will get married to him, though. I’ll be maid of honor obviously.”

“Keep this up and you won’t even be invited, and neither will Matthew because I won’t be marrying him.”

“We both know that you’re going home with him tonight,” she says, referencing the point she made earlier.

You couldn’t go home with Matthew tonight, and you knew it. If you didn’t have someone else to go home with, then you would have to, though. Or you could just go to your actual home. Pulling up your messages, you type out a message to Matthew: ‘Unless we can both find someone we’re interested in, then we go home with each other alright?’

‘So, both of us go home with someone or we go home with each other?’

‘Yeah, sound good?’ You didn’t care if he wanted that or not. You had to convince Evelina that you weren’t interested in Matthew, first with the list, second with going home with someone else.

‘Just come home with me, like you always do. We can do something different tonight if you’re interested?’ he replies, earning an eye roll from you.

‘Like what?’

‘We obviously both know what we want from each other’

‘Haha, no.’

‘Sad but fine :(’ he sends. Staring at his phone, the three dots appearing and disappearing as you try to find the words to say to him, he wanted nothing more than to be the one who took you home tonight.

You and Evelina get to the bar, not really wanting to see the boys. As soon as Matthew saw you, you knew he would have his hands all over you, but that was it. He would never try to kiss you or anything, even if he wanted to. Even if you were oblivious to the fact that he wanted to.

The entire thing was just confusing. You loved the relationship you had with him, but you knew it was never going to go anywhere. You didn’t want it to. You just had to find someone else to go home with tonight. Ideally, you would fall in love with them and never have to think about Matthew as more than your friend for the rest of your life.

Scanning the bar, you couldn’t see anyone that remotely interested you, other than the usual suspects. The boys had led you to a bar that you’ve frequented enough times that the bartenders knew your drink order on sight. It also meant that you’ve seen the patrons of the bar enough times to know that unless someone new walked through that entrance door tonight, you were going home with Matthew. Unless you could convince one of his teammates to go home with. Maybe you could go home with Elias? Or Noah, worst case.

The same group of friends that was there every weekend was sitting in the front corner, a group of college students who were probably underage sitting in the back, some wine moms probably talking about how horrible their husbands are for buying the wrong brand of designer purse for their birthday presents were sitting in the front. The guys and now Evelina for that matter were nowhere to be seen, meaning they were in the back room, probably hoarding the pool table, like they did every time you guys came here. Not seeing the guys also meant not seeing Matthew.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t see you. As soon as Evelina bounced into the room, his mind was occupied with the thought of finding you. Then when she told him that you were dressed in some of her clothing? He could feel himself going crazy trying to picture what you were wearing, knowing some of the outfits he had seen your roommate in. All he had to do was convince you not to go home with another guy. That was going to be easy, right? He stands by the bar, out of your line of site, just to admire how you looked. Evelina knew damn well what she was doing when she picked that outfit for you. She had to know seeing you in that would drive Matthew crazy like it was.

You nearly forgot about him, thinking only of your options of who you could go home with when you felt him come up behind you, your entire body tensing up as his hands snaked their way around your waist, pulling you close to him. Your breath stopped when his thumb hooked onto the belt loop of your jeans. He leaned in, his hot breath sending a chill down your spine, letting out a whisper, “Just come home with me tonight. I’m gonna make you cum so hard.”

You exhale, rolling your eyes, running your tongue over your teeth. You knew he would say something like that to you; it was the exact type of statement that you would text each other constantly. He couldn’t see the smirk on your face that you know would drive him crazy. “What, to my senses?” you whisper back. His hands drop long enough for you to turn around to face him, draping your arms on his shoulders just for him to pull you back in to him, leaving no space to escape with your back pressed to the bar counter. “Don’t be crude. You know our deal, Matthew. We just made it, you can’t be that forgetful.”

“And who do you see here that you would be remotely interested in besides me?” he teases. “The guy macking on a girl on the other end of the bar, or the college kids who may or may not be legal?”

“The night is young, Rat Man,” you call him the nickname you knew he despised, ruffling your hands in his hair, tangling your fingers in the curls. “Maybe instead of looking at me, try going for those girls that just came in already can’t seem to keep their eyes off you.” You motion to the table of girls sending you daggers just over Matthew’s shoulders.

“Why would I do that when I have you already right in my arms?”

You lean in, running your hands down his body. You could feel his heart racing at your touch, knowing you were driving him crazy with every word you uttered, “Because we both know that’s not something we do,” you tease him, getting an idea as the guys filter into the main bar area. “Worst-case scenario, I’ll go home with Elias.”

He pulls away from you, trying to hide the pain he was feeling from coming through on his face. “Why would you do that?”

“Have you seen Lindy? You know I’ve always had a crush on him, why not act on that?”

“Because I would hate that?” he questions. You had to know he would hate that. There’s no way you could be so oblivious to the fact that his ‘jokingly sexual texts’ weren’t joking for the most part, right?

“Maybe that’s why I do it,” you tease. Nope, you were oblivious. Even though Evelina had told you earlier, you thought she was lying. “So, where is he?”

Matthew bites his lip, debating on telling you where his teammate was or not. He couldn’t let you go home with Elias, but you know he’s single. He could just tell you that he didn’t come tonight, but then what happens when you spot him. What if he just said Lindy had started seeing someone recently? “I don’t know,” is all he can tell you. He can’t lie to you. Not if this was something that had the potential to make you happy.

“Then I’m gonna go find him,” you say, kissing him on the cheek and weaseling your way out from his grip. You were determined not to go home with him tonight. Evelina was wrong about the two of you being in love, and this was the first step in proving it. Actually, the second, the list was the first step. You just needed nine more things.

“What the hell was that?” Matthew hears a voice snap him out of the trance you sent him into while he watched you walk away to find his teammate. He looks next to him, Evelina sitting there. He could not read the girl to save his life: was she mad? Was she actually confused? The girl only showed emotion with her voice. Either that or Matthew was just oblivious when it came to reading her.

“What are you talking about?” he pretends not to know, signaling to the bartender to get him another drink. If he had to watch you go home with his friend, he might as well be able to forget about it come morning.

She rolls her eyes at him. “I just had this conversation with her. How are you both so dumb?” she says off to the side before sighing and looking at Matthew, “You clearly both love each other.”

Matthew looks at her, the panic written all over his face. “Wh-what?” he stammers out. No one knew he’s liked you for a while now. At least, he hadn’t told anyone. Was he that obvious? Of course he was obvious, he blatantly flirted with you all the time. “We are not in love with each other.”

“Oh, stop lying, everyone but Y/N knows that’s not true. You two will be going out on a date by the end of the month,” she says, staring down at her drink. The confidence in her voice was baffling, considering Matthew didn’t even think he could ever convince you to actually date him. How did Evelina do it?

“You’re one of the first people to tell me that I’m an idiot so I really need you to give me more explanation. We both know I can never figure out what you’re saying to me.”

She sighs, taking a long sip of her drink. “I made a bet with her: if she can come up with ten things that she hates about you by the end of the month, then I’ll stop talking about you two for the rest of your lives. If not, then y’all are going on a date.”

Matthew could feel himself starting to panic. “Only ten things? Are you joking? There are at least five guys in the NHL who could think of fifty. My own teammates probably have thousands. My dad probably hates more things about me than he likes!” he starts to spit out. This was not going to end well, and he knew it.

“Oh, come on,” she says, rolling her eyes yet again. “If she really didn’t like you, then she would have come up with something better than the way you shave the side of your head like that.”

He subconsciously lifts his hand to run it along the shaved sides she was talking about. “That’s all she could think of?”

“That’s it. I know Y/N better than anyone: she’s going to try to think of ten things and she’s not going to come up with them and she’s finally going to realize that she loves you.”

“This is either going to be great or awful.”

“Which one do you want it to be?”

“Great, obviously, but how are you sure it’ll end up with the two of us together?”

She looks at him and just smiles. He couldn’t tell if it was because she was trying not to laugh at how dumb he was or because she was genuinely happy or hopeful. “She’s going to figure out that you like because and love despite. It’s a saying for a reason.”

Before he can say anything, the two of them are interrupted by the sound of you and the rest of the boys roaring with laughter. They both find the group through the crowd to see them all huddled around Elias going on a rant about something. Evelina drags Matthew over, plopping him down next to you, leaving you sandwiched between him and Elias.

“What’s going on?” Evelina asks once he finishes his rant.

“We’re playing ‘don’t get me started,’” you explain, subconsciously settling into Matthew as he drapes his arm behind you. “Elias was just talking about the idea of a ‘puck bunny.’” Evelina raises her eyebrow, egging you on to continue, “He thinks the concept is dumb and that women should be allowed to like the sport without being accused of wanting sex and all that jazz. We love a feminist,” you coo, playfully nudging Elias as he smiles. Matthew could feel himself going crazy at the site of it, putting his arm around you as if to mark you as his.

Evelina raises her glass, “Thank god, you’re a good man, Lindy,” toasting to him before setting her glass down. “Who’s next?”

“I guess it’s me?” you say. “Someone give me a topic.”

“Gifted Education Program in US education,” Evelina says, already knowing your feelings about it. The alcohol in your system was only going to make the rant better.

“Don’t get me started about the Gifted Education Program,” you start, already feeling yourself get heated even though there was a smile on your face, playing perfectly into the game that you and the guys had started to play. “It had to be one of the worst things, if not the worst thing that has ever happened to me. And all because of a fucking standardized test that I took when I was seven years old. What the hell kind of school system tells a child they’re ‘gifted’ because of a stupid test that they don’t care about? I mean, if Matthew here went to school with me and took the same test,” you start, looking over at him, feeling the heat rush to your face as you prepared for his reaction to what you were about to say, “He could have guessed on the entire test and been labelled as ‘gifted.’ Does he seem like someone who would be ‘gifted’ academically?”

The guys laughed around you as the two of you just stared at each other. Part of him hated how easily you were able to chirp him, knowing that he could never find it in him to chirp back.

“I mean, what the hell does the gifted program even do? It pulled me out of class and made me miss instruction time which I then had to teach myself what I missed. And for what? To be a defense lawyer for the Big Bad Wolf from the Three Little Pigs? I didn’t even get to plan what I said by myself: I was given a script and had to memorize it. How is that gifted education? What does that promote? When we read The Indian in the Cupboard? When we did math problems that we were told high schoolers had issues solving? Or, how about the way we wrote a newspaper every single week but since we only worked on it for thirty minutes, we never published a single issue. I don’t even know what my section of the paper was.”

You keep going on about the gifted program, the guys laughing more and more. Matthew couldn’t focus on what you were saying, he was too busy focused on your hand, which you didn’t even realize kept grazing his thigh, driving him crazy, just like everything else you did. He pulls out his phone, searching for Evelina’s contact.

‘Are you sure this list is going to work in my favor?’

She snaps out of listening to your rant, trying to catch her breath as she looked at her phone. Looking between you and Matthew, she smiles at him, the first look he was able to properly read: it will.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #ratty matty #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines #flames #flames imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl #nhl imagines

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caterpellas · 4 years

Text

munich nights • harry styles 2

summary: touring inseparably as best friends and musicians, yours and harry’s relationship takes a cruel turn in munich.

warnings: smut (thigh riding, oral f receiving, girl on top n i think that’s it)

genre: bestfriend!harry, friends to lovers(?), angst, smut, it’s the works y’all

pt 2/3 (one is here) word count: 6k

a/n: this is the penultimate bit now :) i’m actually super nervous to post this lol i’m a mess anyway pls enjoy

chapter 2 playlist

you couldn’t lie, you cried yourself to sleep that night, with a movie you sort of cared about playing in the background. harry didn’t love you, and what used to be the strongest friendship in mankind had now crumbled apart and returned to a state of distant nothingness. harry didn’t love you. he didn’t have to say those words to you for you to know they were true. the realisation hit you about twenty minutes after harry left like an arrow to your chest, that was so recently covered in his ejaculate. not only were the pair of you virtually inseparable, you worked together as well and you had absolutely no idea what was going to happen now. you felt too ashamed for him and his band members to see you now after last night.

waking up in a damp patch of tears in your double bed, you try your hardest to get on with your day and forget last night. a bath felt appropriate so, just before midday, before you’d even greeted your friends yet, you ran one. the tub itself was freestanding and as deep as your head when you sat in it, the victorian taps centred in the middle. it was definitely the nicest bath you’d had in your life. you stripped off last nights clothes that you had shamelessly fallen asleep in and hoped to god the hot water of your bath would erase the images of last night, but the feeling of harry’s touch burned hotter then any water.

almost an hour later, milo, your drummer, knocked on the door of the bathroom you were still in.

“y/n? you in there? we haven’t seen you since last night before you and harry left. is everything okay?” milo’s voice reached you through the oak walls. you wanted to tell him that nothing was okay, and that you’re most important relationship ceased to exist but you couldn’t bare to tell anyone else, especially your friend and bandmate of 5 years.

“i’m all good, i’ll be out soon.” you make it downstairs another half an hour later, the need for a cup of tea driving you to the kitchen. as you reached the breakfast bar right next to the kitchen, you saw the sickening mop of brown curls that you were hoping to avoid. he turns to face you at the sound of your slippers against the tiled floor.

but instead of plain ignorance, a much more unexpected reaction finds its way to harry as he greets you, “y/n! we were beginning to think you’d drowned in that bath.”

you stood in bewilderment at harry’s attempt at a joke, wondering why he was trying you like all of last night never happened to either of you. but you picked this over cold silence so went along with it, “yeah sorry i needed to recover from the jet lag yesterday.”

it was sort of true, you were feeling the time difference and were grateful to be able to rest today. aside from plans to go out this evening, you were all going to rest up at home. which meant being in close quarters with the man you were trying so hard to avoid. making your cup of tea on the old aga kettle, your friends went back to discussing tour details, chatting about last and what was in store for the rest of the trip. you got a feeling their plans for the future weren’t going to be that plain and simple.

by the evening, you had all found yourselves comfortably sat around the fire outside, eating takeout from a german restaurant nearby. it was really good, and although you and harry had barely spoken more than those few words to each other things weren’t as awkward as you were dreading they’d be. usually, if things hadn’t gone the way they had, you and harry would be sat next to one another, your sides touching all the way down whilst you giggled over something harry was telling you.but as it goes, milo and olly sandwiched you between their huge bodies.

“does anyone know the name of the club we’re going to tonight?”

your ears pricked up at the mention of going to a club. you didn’t realise you were going out-out.

“panorama, i think? i put harry’s name on the guest list.”

it occurred to you that you were heavily underdressed for an exclusive nightclub. you had a good feeling they wouldn’t accept your cargo pants and grubby trainers. jumping up from the bench you run to the door, “i need to go change!”

you opted for an ever so slightly classier look and went with a small pleated skirt and a cropped cardigan. not a combo you’d usually wear, it was a little more fitted then you’d choose for yourself but you’d compromise a little to get in the club. you stuck with the dr martens purely for comfort and called it a night there. you loved your style for many reasons, but the most important one was that it was low effort. it took a maximum of 20 minutes to get ready and you took pride in that.

the group had organised to have a limo to share instead of a taxi, so harry was a little more protected from paparazzi and also to fit the size of your party. they were all waiting outside on the drive when you got downstairs and in unison, their heads turned to face you.

sarah grinned at you, “i love it.”

“very cute,” charlotte smiled as well.

you responded with a “cheers” before daring to look at harry. he was wearing a silk shirt and slacks in a baby pink colour. nothing different to harry’s usual attire but the outfit still sent a chill down your spine. well that, and the way he was looking at you. it was dark out but you could still see how electric his green eyes were as they stared directly at you. you’d been caught off guard, harry wasn’t someone you were prepared to connect with again this evening. in fact, you’d convinced yourself that you didn’t even care whether harry was going to be there or not (utter lies of course). but by the way he was looking at you, you knew this wasn’t the end and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

the vip section of ‘panorama’ was plush and teal coloured, with flower garlands and strip lights along the ceiling. you had a lounging area all to yourselves, with big padded benches and cushions. it was luxurious and if you weren’t so highly strung from having harry sat so near by, you’d fall asleep on it. you drunk so many cocktails by this point and your worries seemed to fade away into the loud club music.

“y/n.”

harry was sat next to you, but distantly. he was chatting to mitch before he said your name. no matter how loud the music playing was, you’d still always here his voice. turning to him, you asked, “harry?”

he’s smiling at you, like nothing has changed, “how come you haven’t danced yet this evening?”

it was a good question- you loved to dance more than you loved to perform. harry would always make fun of you, the shimmy you would do when he was playing disco in the studio and the way you always swayed along to fleetwood mac, pretending to be stevie nicks on stage. the reason you weren’t dancing is because you were far too obsessed with the closeness you had achieved with harry in your booth.

“i haven’t quite been feeling it just yet,” you teased back and you felt as though things with harry had gone back to normal, so you dared to ask, “are we good?”

harry’s boyish smile took over his face as he gave you a definite, “yes.”

“well i’m feeling more in the mood now so i’ll see you later,” you get up to exit, smoothing out the pleats in your skirt and struggle to take your eyes away from his. dreaming he’ll follow you, you make your way into the adjacent room filled to the brim with people. the song was bassy, but mellow and you could immediately feel your body moving to it. before you knew it you were almost next to the dj booth, opposite the ceiling high speakers and the song was perfect. you hadn’t felt this relaxed since yesterday’s plane journey and you let your unease pour out of your limbs as they writhed to the music. it took a few minutes to take you out of the trance and realise, although surrounded by a mass of people, you weren’t alone.

a tall figure was behind you, and without turning you knew who it was. you could smell his cologne easily- it was gucci of course and it was heavenly. not even daring to turn to him, you stayed facing away, afraid of what it meant to have him in your view. his hands, large and firm, gripped your shoulders, like he did twice yesterday, and his hot breath was against your neck.

“can i join you?”

the question itself was said innocently, this wasn’t the first time harry had asked to dance with you, and probably wasn’t the last, but it felt different to you now. god how you missed the simplicity of harry being unattainably yours as a friend. finally bracing yourself to meet his eyes from almost a foot above you, you spun, his arms falling from your shoulders to your forearms.

smiling up at the familiar face of the love of your life, you said into his ear, “of course you can dance with me.”

dancing with harry was nothing sexy or erotic but it was the most intimate you’d ever been with him, before last night. harry loved to dance almost as much as you and the best part of his whole personality was nothing other than his devil-may-care disposition. it reminded you of the times he’d twirl you while you were stood somewhere completely out of the blue, or when he’d snap his fingers along to a song and by the time you’d joined in the two of you had broken out into a full dance routine just for the sheer fun of it.

harry grabbed your small, clammy hands and pulled you into him, and then straight back out as wild cherry played through the speakers and you inaudibly laughed at his initial dance moves.

“is that all you’ve got styles?” you smirked at him before laughing at the ridiculous version of the hustle he was trying to pull off. he looked way better than you’d ever want to declare, looking fresh out of the 70s whilst funk music played to his dance moves. it suited him down to a fine art and the song was tailor made for his steps. your hips circled to the song and you remembered just how much you love it. pulling out some more unconventional dance moves you went for the peace signs over your eyes and harry’s head fell back in laughter whilst watching you.

this was it. the perfect moment you were so afraid of losing with him. you understood now that whatever yours and harry’s union was, it was far stronger than you ever gave it credit for. harry and you were back to normal again and instead of last night’s beer goggles making you far more candid then you’d like, now your feelings were crystal clear. harry was all you’d ever want.

as boney m. began to fade in now harry’s dancing had become more intense and now the pair of you were far closer then you’d ever danced together before. one of his hands made a brave attempt at looping around your waist and spinning you, making your skirt flare up in the process. usually you’d be shy and care, but only harry was paying attention to you and the thought of him have a small peak at what was under your skirt didn’t even slightly bother you. one of your arms clutches his lean bicep and you moved in unison together, only inches away from one another now.

“i love watching you dance,” harry whisper-shouted in your ear. unprepared for that statement, you stare into his eyes as they flashed in the colours of the lights. his gaze is unfocused, undecided on if it will look into your own or watch your lips, dampened from the small lick you gave them. his own lips were distracting you as well, the bottom one pulled in by his teeth, a habit he picked up when he was feeling conflicted. you wished he wasn’t such a hard man to read. the only definite you held onto right now was that he wanted to kiss you, reaffirmed when his eyes closed and his head ducked to meet your own.

“harry,” you place a hand on his exposed chest, “i can’t kiss you.”

he knew why. he knew that it crossed the boundary you weren’t meant to cross again. but much like you that didn’t want to stop him. so, despite himself, harry ignored your remark and hesitantly placed his lips on yours. the feeling of his kiss muted the sounds around you and in desperation you urged him to kiss you harder. no matter the height difference between the two of you, harry and you still felt perfectly matched. harry’s hands came into your tangled hair and gripped at the top of your neck, his lips even firmer against yours at the new angle. this was far more passionate then last night, and you were seeing harry in a whole new light. he wasn’t just your friend, an unrequited love and now a one time sexual partner but something more on par with your own emotions. harry’s zealous kiss seemed to correspond with all the feelings you had never spoken about him. but then he pulled away, leaving you empty again. you frowned at him, “why did you stop?”

he simply smiled back at you, soothing your nerves, and took your hand as he pulled you through the crowds to a curtained doorway. the room he took you to was a semi circle, the wall surrounded by a settee, and the floor was carpeted and plush with cushions and blankets. it reminded you of a harem, which made you question harry’s choice of destination. it was far quieter in here, the music now a dull bass in the background.

“why are we in here?” you looked over to harry who had already taken a seat on the sofa.

“i thought you’d want more privacy,” he grinned at you. harry’s attitude towards the whole thing was starting to irritate you instead now. why was he acting like this whole thing was so casual? did it not affect him like it did you?

“you’re kidding right? what even is this?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms across your chest. you were pissed.

harry’s brows creased in confusion, “what’s the matter?”

“what’s the matter? how can you ask me that? things are different now harry and you know it.”

he knew it. he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you that he’d wanted things to be this way for the past 2 years. it’s why he was constantly cracking jokes or messing around with you, making you smile and laugh brought him more joy then anything else in his life. it’s why he was so overwhelmed by white hot jealousy when he saw your mouth around that arsehole sound tech’s dick.

“jesus, y/n we’re friends aren’t we? why do we have to talk about that anyway, we’re having fun.”

“because harry,” you huff at him, “unlike you my feelings are a little bruised from last nights events.”

his eyes momentarily filled with guilt, “i know that was- not decent of me.”

“uh you think? i love you harry but you’re not pulling this crap on me again,” you tried to sound stern but his eyes melted you. you looked away but his hand reached for yours. this was it though. your temper had gotten the better of you and you were ready to leave him here and say goodbye to any relationship you formerly had with him. if he did anything again to you like he did last night you were sure your dignity would crumble into unfixable pieces. sighing, you finish off by telling him, “i can’t do this anymore harry.”

“i don’t want to lose you,” harry’s eyes were filled with pleading.

“you should have thought about that before i put your cock in my mouth,” you snapped at him. you hated to admit that saying out loud what you and harry had done had turned you on immensely. harry’s pupils dilated in synchronisation with yours. he played right into this.

“so you’d never do it again?” why was he asking you this?

“no. i wouldn’t.” he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of knowing what he did to you anymore. even though the sight of him with his half buttoned silk shirt, damp with sweat as he lounged on the settee, his high waisted trousers spread apart along his long legs made your legs feel like mush. your voice was so convincing that harry’s face fell and in an instant you wanted to eat your words.

“y/n, i’m sorry if i overstepped,” he stood up and wiped his hands on his trousers, “do you wanna just go back to being friends?”

there was only one right answer to that question;

“fuck no.”

you jumped harry then and there and he fell back onto the padded seat, hands strongly gripping your waist. you quickly kissed him and in shock you retreated, your eyes locking, before connecting your lips with him again. his hands move south to your hips and then to your buttocks, giving your scantily clad cheeks a squeeze. you knew from a past discussion harry was an ass man, after a few drinks together one night you were talking about likes and dislikes. it reminded you of one preference in particular. grabbing a fistful of his hair, you tugged it gently and an audible moan fell in between his lips against yours.

“fuck, y/n do that again,” he mumbled into your mouth and you responded with another pull on his curls. his hips jerked up to meet the middle of your legs and between the thin material of his trousers and nothing covering your crotch other then the thin material of your underwear, little was left to the imagination. you could feel harry’s erection growing the more your hand tangled into his hair. your bare thighs clutched tightly by harry’s hands and you could tell they were longing to hold your bare ass. with your other hand on harry’s bicep, you moved it down to his hand and guided it up along your cheek and he hummed in satisfaction.

“hey harry,” you spoke into the kiss, “you remember california?”

how could he forget- you had spent the whole day drinking on the beach and that was where you had confessed about all your likes and dislikes, giggling like little kids the whole time. who knew that several months later that secret information would become so beneficial?

“what about it?” he asked as your lips traced down his neck to his chest.

“do you remember what i told you?”

a switch flipped in harry’s head and he suddenly knew what you wanted. his thigh came between your legs and you put your weight onto it eagerly, and his hands rocked you back and forth on the cotton of his slacks. the friction was exactly what you needed and you had never been more thankful that harry had listened so intently to your confession; you loved dry humping.

harry’s gaze was on you as you continued to grind on him, and the sight was enough to turn him from semi to fully hard.

“does that feel good?” harry asked you and you were too shy to answer him, only whimpering in response, “tell me y/n.”

“it feels so good harry,” you moaned out. your pace had begun to quick as you needily searched for your release. you could feel your wetness seeping into the material against his thigh and a faint squelching noise could be heard underneath your mewls of satisfaction. your hand fell across the bridge of his nose, outlining his sharp cheekbone and rest along his neck, licking his lips as he watches you get yourself off on him.

on a normal occasion, you’d be too embarrassed to ever ride someone’s thigh, it made you the centre of their attention and that frightened you. but knowing that harry’s undivided recognition was different. you loved having his hands and eyes all over your body. not that he knew, but it was his after all. if he wanted it to, it could belong to him.

“harry,” you gasped, “i’m going to cum.”

to know he was about to witness your undoing just like you’d seen his thrilled him.

“cum for me y/n,” harry pushed your hips for you, gripping the flesh of your ass, and rolling you back and forth till you let out a sob as you came all over his thigh. your forehead fell onto harry’s shoulder as you recollected yourself. that was the first time you had ever cum just from humping. and it was on harry’s leg. the familiar blush crept up your arms to your neck and cheeks and you couldn’t bare to lift your head off of harry’s shoulder.

“y/n,” harry’s voice gently interrupted, “not to rush you or anything but my trousers really are soaked.”

his fingers slid down your thighs to help you off of his leg, your own like that of a baby deer. you weren’t expecting harry to unbuckle his belt and slip his trousers off his legs, the thick wet patch taking up a lot of the fabric.

“what are you doing?”

“well you don’t expect me to keep them on do you?”

“i sort of thought you’d just leave again.”

harry’s face flushed in shame, “i am really sorry i did that last time, y/n. it was a dick move.”

“just a little,” you give him a half smile to let him know you couldn’t stay mad at him. stood in awkward silence, your panties dripping with your cum and harry in nothing but a shirt and boxers, you didn’t know what to say. it wasn’t common that you’d find an uncomfortable lack of words to say to harry.

finally, after one too many moments in silence, harry beckoned you with his finger, “c’mere.”

suddenly you found yourself snugly wrapped in his arms, your cheek to his chest as he held you.

“harry i-“

“don’t just yet please.”

so you stayed that way for a little longer. you realised that this could be the last chance you hold him like this, so you mentally noted every last thing about him you loved. his smell, typically of gucci, but underneath the artificial scent a more clean, personal one of clean bedding and shampoo. his arms, and how their length seemed to engulf you better than any of the softest, plushest bedding in existence. his lips that you could feel on the top of your head and how the feeling of them on your own was tattooed to you now. you knew that if you ever kissed anyone in the future it couldn’t penetrate the lasting layer of his.

he pulled away from you a few moments later, looking down over you. searching his eyes for any clues to his own thoughts from under your lashes, you found nothing. it didn’t mean you were expecting what came next.

as you started, “i understand if you don’t want to do this anymo-“

“i love you.”

the words hung in the air in stunned silence, and you were in too much of a state of shock to know how to take them. he loved you? was he saying the way he always did or did he mean he loved you the way you loved him?

“harry you don’t mean that you.. does that mean you, like, love-me-love-me?” you sounded like a teenager, your juvenile question was all you could muster up.

“i’ve always loved you y/n,”

“i know you have bu-“

“will you just let me finish please?” his fingers pressed against your lips to silence you, “you always talk without actually listening. let me a second please.

“i realised that you’ve never been my friend. don’t interrupt. you were never my friend because you were always like way more than that. friend seemed too small a word for us, you know? and then that day after i saw you and that shitty sound tech fucking in your room i was so angry and jealous and then i realised how much i wanted to be in his place. but you and me had already had such a good relationship i was worried i would ruin it by changing our dynamic. then on the night i met camila, you were so distant from me. i was upset and camila was into me so i was going to fuck her, but i couldn’t. i haven’t had sex with anyone since i saw you and-“

“his name was josh.”

“y/n i really couldn’t give a fuck what his name was. but anyway last night that prick wouldn’t leave you alone and i had to do something, and i wasn’t planning on taking things where they went but by the time you’d brought up my tattoos i was in too deep. i hate that i left you last night. i wanted to say all of this then, but i was too scared. so i left and hoped things would go back to normal between us. but our normal is nothing compared to what we had last night.”

overwhelmed, you sat down on the settee, leaning back to accommodate all of this information.

“so you want to be with me?” you asked him, still not believing it for yourself.

harry beamed at you, “i know, crazy right?”

“i just- i,” you stuttered over your lack of words.

“you don’t have to feel the same why i just figured it was best to be honest.”

you couldn’t help it, but you snorted at him, “you’re kidding right? i have not wanted anything more in my entire life.“

harry knelt down in front of you, and from this height you to were level. you could see eye to eye as equals now. his lips came to your forehead and softly kissed you there, your eyes fluttering closed. it was contentment to know he was finally yours. moving even closer to you, harry moved your legs aside and came between them and you had to prevent him from getting too close so your still-damp panties didn’t come into contact with his expensive shirt.

“you know,” you could feel harry’s lips turn upwards into a smirk on your forehead, “this means you don’t have to feel quite as worried about me fucking you anymore. i’m yours now, y/n.”

he lowered onto the back of his heals, taking his head to the level of your breasts, and he moved back a bit to take in the sight of you. you had to have been a mess, your black eyeliner probably smudged and your hair knotted around your head. your legs were still wide apart, giving harry the greatest opportunity to see under your little tartan skirt.

his pupils widen at the sight, “i can’t believe i’ve never seen you in a skirt like this before. you look so cute in it. it gives me great opportunity to do this,” his hands slid up your thighs slowly and surely, eventually coming down so that they were on the inside of your legs, just before your crotch. you were at his mercy at this angle, and he used it to his advantage. his long fingers brushed up against your clothed core and you whimpered at the sensitivity.

“are you still sore from earlier?”

you nodded and swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. his fingers moved up towards your hips, bumping your clit in the process and grabbed the sides of your tight underwear. pulling them down your legs, he got to see your pussy for the very first time. mouth practically salivating at the sight of your already wet lips, he began kissing along the insides of your legs, working inwards from the knee. he stopped at the edge of your thighs, teasing you with no touch. you hips were writhing at the need for contact and he pinned your thighs down, restricting you.

“i want to undress you first.”

his nimble fingers make quick work of the tiny buttons on your cardigan and it only just occurred to you that you’re not wearing a bra underneath. your bare sternum is exposed and you can tell harry is surprised to find you completely naked behind the cardi. slipping it off your shoulders, your perky breasts are finally unleashed for harry’s viewing.

“we never fucked,” you blurred out.

“what do you mean?”

“me and josh never had sex. i haven’t actually had sex in about two years.”

harry’s jaw sunk slightly at your confession, “but- how haven’t you?”

you felt embarrassed by this. no one ever compared to harry so why would you waste your time on them? you mostly only fooled around with josh because you needed a distraction from harry’s constant sex appeal.

“well josh and me never actually got around to it since he left the crew and aside from him there hasn’t been anyone else.”

you couldn’t believe you were saying this to him right after he’d undressed you, the air con hardening your nipples. harry couldn’t really concentrate on what you were saying, especially when his name was mentioned and your breasts were on full display to him. ignoring your rambling, harry’s mouth came down onto your right nipple, circling it with his tongue and ending your words with a gasp. your nipples were more sensitive then you’d initially realised, or maybe it was just because it was harry’s mouth encapsulating them, but the sensation felt like enough to make you cum from that alone.

“harry, i,” you sighed out breathily. sentences weren’t able to be formed presently, it was all too much. not for harry though, who had no qualms about saying, “i want to fuck you in nothing but that little skirt.”

you tried to press your thighs together, his words jolted down to your clit and you needed some kind of release. harry’s mouth went back to your boobs and down the valley in the middle, licking down it, to your pierced belly button and finally his head disappeared under your skirt. you instinctively placed your feet up on either side of the sofa to spread your pussy even further for his access.

his tongue mercilessly licked up from your taint to your clit and you bucked in delight. the muscle of his tongue pressed hard against the sensitive ball of nerves in quick movements, lapping at it rhythmically. you couldn’t control the volume of your moans now, cussing incoherently to him. but it wasn’t enough, you needed harry fully.

pulling his hair, you were so close to cumming but you couldn’t let it happen yet, not till he’d been inside you.

“harry stop,” you manage to get out, “i need you in me.”

he drew back as soon as you spoke and you leant forward to unbutton his shirt, but you lost your balance as you go forward, falling on top of him onto the cushioned floor. you both burst into giggles at your clumsiness, it was something that you joked about a lot together. you hadn’t loved anyone more then you loved harry right now, his chuckles like music to your ears as you lay on him nearly naked, his curls sat on his forehead.

“i love you,” harry told you, his hand cupping your cheek from below.

“i love you too,” leaning to kiss him, you moved your hand down and gripped his erection, forcing a moan from his lips, “now make love to me.”

he wasted no time in finishing off unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, and you ground your hips into his erection, forcing a groan from his lips. you were so close to feeling harry inside you, only boxers in the way of you two. you sat back and slipped them off his hips. before you got a chance to line him up with your walls, harry interrupted you, “are you in birth control?”

“yes,” you blushed. he smirked at you as he grabbed his hard cock in his hand and positioned it with you. you sunk down ont his cock, sighing is feel yourself being filled. you had craved this feeling for far too long, and harry filled you so well.

“fuck, y/n,” harry’s eyes closed when you engulfed him fully. adjusting, you began to bob up and down on his dick slowly, getting used to the foreign sensation. it stung a little bit as you hadn’t been filled in so long, but the need for harry numbed any of the pain. harry’s sweaty hands came up to cup your breasts, playing with your nipples as you began to quicken your pace.

“how do i feel inside you? does it feel good?”

you could only nod back, his cock hitting your g spot so well from this angle. as you began to speed up, your tits bounced delectably in front of harry’s face and he had to take over dominance, slamming his hips up to meet your own. his erection pounded into you, your mouth eliciting depraved whines. your skirt was swinging around your barely clothed ass and giving harry only sneaky glimpses of how the two of you were connected.

with harry’s hips moving more erratically, you could tell he was close.

you leant your mouth into his ear to whisper, “i want you to cum inside me.”

that was enough to tip harry over the edge, and so you could both finish together he reached his thumb under your skirt and thumbed your clit, sending your body into a heavenly orgasm. harry unloaded into your walls as you clenched around him, the both of you finishing in unison. flopping down onto his chest, he left his cock in you, both too fucked out to move yet. when he had softened, he slipped out of you, making you wince at the feeling.

“so,” you said into harry’s chest, “does that mean you’re mine now?”

his hand rubbed the small of your back, “i’m yours.”

#i’m sorry #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry style fan fiction #harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction smut #bestfriend!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles icons #harry styles fic #fine line album #friends to lovers

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mermaidssonshipss · 4 years

Text

the quiet one

anotha request! hehe this one was cute and i got excited when i read it, so thank you to whoever requested it! sorry it took so long to write it, but ... writers block is a bitch! and work is also a bitch!

warnings: none! bunch of cuteness. some cursing i think.

pairings: jj maybank x reader

word count: 3.2k

For the past three years, every Saturday morning at 8am, JJ Maybank could be found on your property, mowing the lawn to perfection. When he’d turned 18 a year ago and got a real job, he’d quit mowing lawns on Figure 8, but your parents had grown to love him, so they told him if he took every Saturday off to mow their lawn in the morning, they’d pay him what he would earn an entire day at work. What they didn’t know though, was that JJ didn’t plan on leaving them anyway, they were the one family he was happy to continue working for, even if it meant he would have to wake up at 5am to get it done before his actual job.

At around 8:15am, once JJ had gotten everything out and set up and was beginning to work, you would make your way onto the porch, a glass of iced coffee in one hand for you, and an ice cold water bottle in the other for him. You’d offered time and time again to make him an iced coffee, but he’d always declined, saying he felt bad having you make him a drink while he was being paid to fix your lawn. That had never stopped your mom from making him breakfast though, and while he could say no to you, he couldn’t say no to the woman who was paying him.

When he had first started, none of you had any idea what his home-life was like. Your dad had found out first, about a year into him mowing your law, when JJ pulled up one Saturday with a black eye, his chest and abdomen also covered in matching blue and black spots. When you saw him struggling to mow the lawn, clear he was in pain, you ran to your dad and told him, who was quick to go outside and question JJ. At first, JJ tried to play it off, saying he got into a fight with Rafe Cameron the night before, but as your dad had been at the Cameron’s house the night before and had seen Rafe, he knew it was a lie. Eventually, JJ gave in and told your dad everything.

After your dad had shared the information with your mom, she had begun to dote over the boy every Saturday, hence why she had been cooking him breakfast now for the last two years. She would also send him home with food for lunch and dinner for the next two days, and you’d caught your mom sending Luke glares when she ran into him at the market on The Cut you went to often: they had the best peaches on the island.

Though you’d known him for 3 years and shared friendly banter in the mornings when you gave him his water, you tended to shy away from having any actual conversation with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him or enjoy his presence, you’d just always been considered the quiet one, and you kept to yourself. You had friends, sure, but none of them truly knew who you were, nor did they ever really care enough to try and find out.

JJ had turned 19 a couple of months ago, and your mom had baked him a cake, your dad giving him an envelope with enough money in it to cover his rent for the next two months. He’d moved out of his dads home and was living in a small apartment on the cut by himself, though you’d heard him complain to your dad that it felt like the pogues never left him alone. You knew he didn’t mean it, as it was clear how much he loved his friends, but the thought of a distressed JJ trying to kick his friends out had made you giggle.

***

“Dude... you’re whipped,” Pope gave JJ a hard pat on the back, shaking his head at the blonde boy in front of him. JJ glared, snatching the wrapped up box from Pope’s hand.

“Shut up, Pope, I’m not whipped.”

“You’re whipped,” John B piped in, and JJ lifted his middle finger up at him, “We’ve had to listen to you sigh over this girl the last 3 years, and you’ve barely even talked to her.”

“We’ve talked!”

“Yeah, when she’s offering to make you an iced coffee and you say no. Which, you’re fucking stupid for by the way. Iced coffee is the shit.”

“I try to talk to her dude. But I just get.. nervous?” He questioned, not sure if that was the correct wording. Girls didn’t make JJ Maybank nervous, but for some reason, you did. “She’s just always so into her books and I don’t wanna disturb her. She’s also the prettiest girl on this island... she isn’t gonna give me the time of day.” JJ huffed, collapsing down onto the couch next to John B, the brunette shaking his head at him.

“Her parents love you, clearly, so that already gives you an advantage. Also, she comes and sits out on the porch every Saturday. And she’s been doing it for 3 years. She’s clearly doing it for a reason,” Pope piped in, swiping a coke out of JJ’s fridge.

“You like her. She clearly goes out of her way to see you so if she doesn’t already like you, she’s close. Just... I don’t know. Be JJ and get her to like you,” John B was useless, JJ had decided, shaking his head as he pushed himself back to his feet and snatched his car keys from the kitchen table.

“Clean up your shit!” JJ called over his shoulder as he took off out the front door, making his way to his car to head to your house.

***

The sun outside fought its way through your thin curtains, the light assaulting your closed eyelids, causing them to flutter open as you turned your face away from the window. You blew out a breath of air before reaching onto your nightstand and snatching your phone. Your notifications were full of texts and social media posts, everyone wishing you a happy birthday, and you smiled for a moment before tossing the phone into your sheets and pulling yourself out of bed.

By the time you had finished showering and thrown on a pair of simple frayed jean short shorts and a green cropped tube top, it was already 8:10am. You huffed, deciding to skip doing your makeup as you tossed your wet hair into a messy bun, your feet moving quickly down the stairs.

As you entered the kitchen, you could hear the lawn mower going off in the backyard, and your eyes wandered to the glass doors that would soon lead you out to JJ. You could see him through the glass, his shirt already off as he pushed the large piece of metal across the grass, sweat forming on his tan skin.

“Quit staring, you’re drooling.” your dads voice snapped you out of your trance, your cheeks turning scarlet as you threw a glare at him.

“I wasn’t staring.” you mumbled, moving around the kitchen as you began to make your iced coffee.

“You totally were,” he laughed, and he went to pat you on the head but you dodged him, throwing a spoon at him as a warning. You’d gotten the bun to look perfect, and you’d be damned if he fucked it up. He raised his hands in surrender before bending down and grabbing the thrown spoon, tossing it into the sink, “Happy birthday, kiddo.”

“Thanks dad,” you smiled, pressing a couple buttons on the Keurig so it would start making your coffee.

“Any plans for today? Besides staring at JJ for the next two hours?”

“I WASN’T STARING!” your voice raised right as JJ shut the lawn mower off, carrying outside through the window that was cracked open. JJ looked towards the glass doors leading into the kitchen, his eyes straining to see inside. He could see your dad bent over laughing, but you had moved so you were hidden behind the fridge. He shrugged, turning the lawn mower back on and getting back to work.

“I will kill you.” you glared, shooing him out of the kitchen as he shot you a wink before disappearing into his home office.

When you were done getting your coffee ready, you grabbed a water bottle and your book that was resting on the island, heading outside to the back porch. Immediately, JJ turned the lawn mower off once more, sending you a bright smile as he made his way over to you to grab the waiting bottle.

“Good morning, y/n,” he said as his fingers wrapped around the cold plastic, grazing your own softly.

“Good morning, JJ.” you replied, sending him a shy smile. That was usually the end of your morning conversation as you would generally move to the swing on the porch to read, but today, JJ kept going.

“It’s your birthday.” he stated, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“It is.” you had placed your coffee down on the outside table now, watching him curiously. He hesitated for a moment before moving around you and heading to the porch swing you usually sat on, and you watched as he pulled up the pillow and grabbed onto a pink box that had been hidden.You gave him a shy smile as he handed it to you, the apples of his cheeks tinting an intense shade of red.

“It’s stupid so don’t expect anything wonderful but... yeah.” He mumbled out quickly, his hand gripping onto the back of his neck as he looked down at his feet.

“You didn’t have to get me anything at all, JJ.” You took the box from his hands, your own cheeks matching his. You looked up at him, questioning if you could open it, to which he nodded.

As you pulled the wrapping paper off, it revealed a golden toned leather journal with your name engraved in the middle, the quote “I hope she’ll be a fool- that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.” underneath it in a beautiful script.

“JJ...” you gasped, your eyes lighting up as you looked at the timid boy in front of you, ”How’d you know that’s my favorite quote?” your eyebrow raised in question as your fingertips delicately traced over the engraving.

“Senior year of high school, your school came to my high school on the cut and my English teacher made everyone go around and say their favorite book and quote. You were the only one who actually had an answer. Then a year or so ago you left a book out lying on the porch swing and when I passed it, I saw that same quote highlighted.” He shrugged as he spoke, brushing off the words, but your heart had been racing the entire time as you fought back a wide smile.

“This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me, and I mean that. Thank you, JJ.” You placed the journal down on the table that was next to you on the porch and lifted yourself up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around JJ’s bare shoulders in a hug. He hesitated for a moment, not expecting the physical contact, but he quickly wrapped his own arms around your small waist, breathing in the scent of your orange blossom shampoo.

***

JJ had been at your house everyday for the past two weeks. Your dads car had broken down, and apparently JJ was the only one who could fix it. Your dad was willing to pay very generously for his time, so the shop JJ worked at allowed him to come to your house to take care of it. While your dad was away at work, you’d been given the assignment of hanging out with JJ to “keep an eye on him,” though you knew your dad was just doing it so the two of you would spend more time together. And you did. He’d finally begun accepting your iced coffee offers in the morning, and the two of you would mess around in your kitchen each day cooking lunch, seeing what exactly you could make with all the ingredients in the house. While you’d always found JJ attractive, your feelings for him were definitely blossoming into much more. You’d catch yourself staring off at his lips as he spoke, wondering what the red tinted skin would feel like against yours.

JJ had already had feelings for you before the past two weeks came around, but now that the two of you were actually getting to know each other, he came to the realization that while relationships scared him and he’d always shied away from them, he wanted one with you. If he wanted to analyze his feelings even more, he’d hesitate of course, but he was willing to admit that he was falling for you: he had, actually, when Pope grilled him the night before about the amount of time you two were spending together, and how bright the smile on JJ’s face had been lately.

Currently, JJ was leaning over the hood of your dads car, his jeans covered in oil, and your eyes were transfixed on his bare back, following a few sweat droplets as they trailed down the tan skin. You were sat atop one of the building counters in your garage, your bottom lip caught between your teeth absentmindedly. When JJ turned around abruptly, you snapped your eyes up, sitting up straighter as your cheeks turned red when you noticed the smirk on his face, your fingers gripping onto the edge of the wooden counter in embarrassment. Your eyes were wide, an innocent expression playing on your features, and JJ had to stop himself from laughing.

“It’s not very nice to stare, pretty girl.” He remarked, the nickname he’d recently begun using towards you causing your stomach to stir.

“I wasn’t!” You defended, your eyes squinting into a glare, but as JJ’s chuckle rang through the garage, a smile broke out on your face.

“To be fair,” he spoke, wiping his hands on a towel before discarding it onto the floor as he approached you, “I stare at you quite often. Have for the past 3 years.”

As he spoke, your gaze had shamelessly moved down his torso, but once the words he had said actually registered, your eyes quickly moved back up to his shining blue orbs as they watched you closely.

“Really?” your voice came out as a whisper, disbelief riddled in your tone. JJ had always been someone you saw as unattainable: he’d made his dislike for kooks very clear, and he was also notorious on the island for not being into commitment.

“Does that really come as a surprise?” he’d lowered his voice as he was now stood right in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs gently, and you were finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the heat from his skin on yours.

“I... well... yeah...” you stuttered out, not really sure what to say or how to explain it.

“While your mom and dad are wonderful people, they aren’t the reason I’ve been mowing your lawn for the past 3 years.” At this point, he’d pushed your thighs apart so he could stand in-between them, his body almost pressed against yours now.

“What’s the reason?” the words were rushed and sounded breathless as his thumbs were now rubbing into the skin of your thighs in slow circles, and you’d missed how his head was dipping down so his face was level with yours.

“You.”

His lips were on yours seconds later, gliding against yours slowly as the cinnamon scented lipgloss you were wearing invaded his tastebuds. His nose bumped with yours softly as you titled your head, your hand coming up to rest on his cheek softly as his arms now wound around your waist, pulling you into his warm body as you leaned into his touch. He had your bottom lip captured between his now, his teeth softly nipping at the skin as he pulled on it lightly before pulling away, and you let out a quiet whine at the absence of his lips on yours, pulling him back down and connecting your lips once again.

This kiss was less timid than the first had been, your teeth clanking together gently as you both pushed to deepen it. His hand was now gripping onto the back of your neck, his fingertips pressing into the delicate skin as your hands rested on his bare chest, finally exploring the skin you’d been dreaming about.

A cough caused the two of you to pull apart, you jumping down from the counter and JJ moving back over to the car, both of your faces reddening as you saw your dad standing there, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Finally. That took longer than I expected.” he began to speak, the smirk turning into a smile, “JJ, join us for dinner tonight?”

“I... uh... sure..?” JJ’s voice was laced with confusion, his heart racing in his chest as he’d expected your dad to scream at him, but his reaction had been the exact opposite.

Your dad simply nodded his head before clapping his hands together, sending the two of you a thumbs up as he left the garage, leaving the both of you standing there in silence until you heard the front door close.

“Did he...” you began, your eyes still trained on where your dad had been standing.

“I think he.. planned on this happening...” JJ finished for you, gazes finally connecting. He had a smile on his face, but you were still confused, and your face was still hot as you thought about the fact that your dad had literally just caught you making out with JJ when you’d been denying you felt anything for him for the past 3 years.

“Hmph.” You hummed after a moment, but a small smile was playing on your now swollen lips. JJ walked back over to you, grabbing your hands in his and lacing your fingers together as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I know I’m not known for relationships and shit,” he started, squeezing your hands as you looked up at him, hope filling your eyes, “But I think it’s just because by the time I was old enough to really want one, you’d come into my life, and I couldn’t get you off my mind. No one was you. No one made me feel the way you did, and half the time we only said a few words to each other and the rest of our time together was me staring at you while you read, and I still felt like a fucking 10 year old with his first crush. I want to do this, but I want to do this with you, and only you. And I’d also like to say that Pope helped me rehearse this, because I’m shit with feelings and probably would’ve ended up calling you dude at some point and ruining everything.” You laughed loudly as he finished and he sent you a shy smile, causing you to shake your head in disbelief before moving onto your tiptoes and pressing a gentle kiss against his rough lips, pulling away before he could deepen it.

“I’d like to do this with you, too.... dude.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks imagine

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wiypt-writes · 4 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

https://wiypt-writes.tumblr.com/post/644486634874847232/stark-spangled-banner

Ch58: You Have To Go Through The Worst, To Get To The Best.

Intro: In the aftermath of the battle, Katie grieves for Tony as the world comes to terms with the fact that people they lost five years ago have reappeared.

Warnings: “Language!”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: This is it! We head into the last part and as such, a brand new banner again from @angrybirdcr. Only a few chapters left.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 57

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Sorry for your loss.

Four words that Katie was already sick of hearing. Sorry. What did people have to be sorry for? It wasn’t like it was their fault. Still, she acknowledged the sympathy that came her way, completely automatically, almost emotionlessly. She barely registered the fact she had spoken to Fury and Hill, two people who had been dead five years ago, she didn’t have the energy to wish she could knock Ross’ head off his shoulders and had no idea how long she had walked what was left of the compound, maybe an hour or so? Who cared anyway? She simply did what people asked her to do to help out, whilst Steve hurried around organising everyone and barking orders.

Nevertheless, when the crowds of Emergency Services, Armed Forces and Support Staff that had flooded the Compound left, she suddenly felt alone and found herself in their compound apartment, which had miraculously survived bar from a smashed window in the living area. She glanced around before she headed to the bedroom and slumped heavily on the large bed, staring at the wall.

Just staring.

It was quiet, but her mind was anything but. Her brain was screaming all sorts of stuff at her, a jumble of words and sounds and visions, but she couldn’t really understand any of it.

She simply felt broken.

“Katie?”

A voice broke through her reverie and she looked up to see Steve in the doorway.

“Hey.” She gave him a soft smile. “Pepper just spoke to Happy, the kids are fine. All three are fast asleep. He’s going to wake them in a few hours and bring them back.” “No.” Katie shook her head. “I want him to bring them now.” “Honey its almost two am.” He said, and Katie frowned. Okay, so she’d been walking around a little longer than she thought, then. “Let them sleep. We can go, get cleaned up and…” “Plan how we tell them their Uncle is dead.” She swallowed, gazing back down at her hands.

Steve took a shaky breath. He felt beyond guilty. Guilty that he got to go home to his kids because of the fact that Tony didn’t. Steeling himself, he made his way to the bed, sat down next to his wife and wrapped his arm around her as she lay her head on his shoulder.

“What’s everyone doing?” She asked softly.

“Rhodey is in with Ross and President Ellis…” “Ellis is here?” She looked at him, frowning.

Steve nodded. “Rhodey’s giving him a brief on what’s happened. They’re gonna need to put an announcement out so…”

“Suppose it was probably a shock everyone re-appearing again.” She reasoned, quietly. “What about everyone else?”

“Well Lang, Parker and Bruce already left.” Steve explained as his hand gently rubbed up and down her arm. “And there’s a chopper on the way to take Pepper home and a couple more following to take the rest of us to the Tower. The roads are completely jammed, apparently there’s impromptu parties taking place all over. Might be a while before we can get back through to Brooklyn.” The thought of partying seemed alien to Katie, but as she thought about it, it wasn’t surprising. People would be greeting lost loved ones, celebrating the fact the world has returned to normal.

For them anyway.

“Clint will want to go home.” Katie nodded. “He’ll be desperate to see Laura and the kids.” “We’ve got a jet on the way for him so he can go as soon as possible.” Steve soothed, dropping a kiss to her head.

If ever Katie was grateful for having a husband with Military organisational skills it was now. He’d literally thought of everything. She closed her eyes and nuzzled into him even more, seeking out comfort like a child, before Steve reached around and pulled her onto his lap, holding her close to him, as they sat in silence.

****

“I guess this is strange for you too, huh?” Steve said as they made their way into the Tower. “Yeah you could say that.” Sam shrugged, “One minute everyone was in Wakanda and then the next minute it was just us, and the jungle had changed.” He paused, scratching his head. “Then that Strange dude turns up and tells us it’s been five years and we needed to go fight one last time.”

“Has it really been that long?” Bucky asked and Steve nodded. “So now you’re older than me?” He grinned. Steve chuckled as Katie gave a small smile. “Shut up.”

They made their way into the elevator and FRIDAY greeted them, somewhat forlornly, as Katie asked for their floor. The elevator fell silent as it scooted upwards, pinging open. Katie stepped out first, followed by Wanda then the men.

“So, where do you want-“Bucky began but he stopped dead causing Sam to bump into him.

“What the hell, Frosty?” he spluttered, frowning as he followed Bucky’s eye line, his own eyes growing wide as he saw what Bucky was staring at. Wanda was also gazing, her mouth open, and Steve immediately knew what they were looking at- the large framed photo on the wall in the living room.

Even though their home was in Brooklyn this was still very much their apartment. Katie sometimes stayed if she had a big meeting, or on occasions they would crash here when they grabbed a rare night out in Manhattan. And it was for that reason that the photos in the apartment had been updated over the past five years as their lives had moved on. The wall their friends were gazing at contained two prints. The first was one taken by Katie at the hospital when Jamie was hours old, the same photo also adorned the wall in the lounge at home and it showed Steve asleep in the chair by her hospital bed, hair unkempt, shirt crumbled, stubble on his chin as his baby son was clutched to his chest as they both slept. He remembered the moment like it was yesterday, one snapshot moment out of God knows how many, all of which the three people stood in front of him had missed.

The second was from last year, and showed Emmy with Alex as they sat on the sofa at home, both grinning at the camera.

“You…” Sam gasped as Wanda and Bucky turned to them, mouth hanging open.

Steve nodded, “Yeh, err, did no one tell you?” He asked, rubbing his neck.

“No.” Bucky breathed.

“But then it never really cropped up in conversation, you know, on account of us being in the middle of a battle and all.” Sam said, a little sarcastically and Wanda thumped his arm before she turned to Katie.

“How old?” She asked softly.

“Emily is sixteen next week.” Katie said, looking at the photos smiling softly. “We adopted her after the snap, it’s a long story.”

She then looked at Steve who smiled, knowing she was allowing him the task of revealing their boy’s name to two of the men he was named after.

“And Jamie’s three.” He turned to look at Bucky and Sam.

“Jamie?” Bucky asked thickly.

“Or to give him his full name James Anthony Samuel.”

Bucky and Sam exchanged a look, the pair of them floundering for words.

“Cap,” Sam swallowed, his eyes misting over. “Wow, I’m so happy for you guys.” “I can’t wait to meet them.” Wanda beamed.

“You might regret saying that.” Steve chuckled. “Emmy’s a sass bag and Jamie can be a handful. He’s only three but he’s stubborn, opinionated- don’t even say it.” He pointed at Bucky who had opened his mouth to comment, a grin spreading across his handsome face.

“They’re awesome.” Katie spoke softly as her eyes moved round the apartment and fell on a photo of her and Tony taken at her wedding. Suddenly she couldn’t be there anymore. Excusing herself she headed into their bedroom where she flopped onto the bed, now feeling utterly overwhelmed, still struggling to make head or tail of her emotions. She should have been celebrating like everyone else in the streets was doing. Their friends and trillions of other people were saved, but she couldn’t because again, just like the other week when they had grieved for Natasha, there was one person who wasn’t coming back.

Her brother.

Taking a deep breath, she shed her boots before she stood up and peeled off her cat suit before she made her way straight into the en-suite.

She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand, an attempt to sooth the pain she now felt in every inch of her body. But whilst some of it was bruising from the multiple blows she had taken, some of it was coming from inside. The pain of losing her brother was physical, and hard. Closing her eyes she lay her head against the tiles, allowing the water to beat down on her, lost in her memories. “I got full marks on my English essay Tone!” Her 10 year old self grinned up at him as he leaned against the car, looking as effortlessly cool as ever.

“Get you, you little brainbox!” He ruffled her hair. “That’s awesome, so awesome in fact I think we need to stop for pizza and a shit load of ice cream on the way home. Sound good?” “You’re the best!” She beamed as he took her pink back-pack off her and dropped it into the trunk as she climbed into the passenger seat of his BWM.

“Oh no, you are not going out wearing that!” Tony stod up as she walked into the living room of the house. Sixteen year old Katie rolled her eyes.

“Tone its boiling hot outside, what you want me to wear? A pair of jeans and a fucking coat?” “Anything but that!” He scoffed, looking at the rather short denim skirt. “Young Lady, I can see what you had for breakfast!”

“Oh bite me, Tony.” She shot back, hearing the guffaw that Rhodey gave out from the sofa before she shot out of the front door to greet her boyfriend who had just pulled up the drive.

She was eighteen…, cruising along the cliff in Malibu, laughing, her hands on the steering wheel of her convertible bug, Tony in the passenger seat sipping an iced tea as the pair of them sang as loudly as they could to Drops of Jupiter- their song.

“Mr Rock and Roll over there, listen to you!” She laughed as the song finished and it changed to AC/DC ‘Thunder’.

“If you ever tell anyone about my love of Train I will kill you.” Tony looked at her over his sunglasses and she snorted, grinning.

“I’m so telling Pepper.”

“Err you know I can still pull my funding.” He glared “You can kiss goodbye to going to Oxford…”

And speaking of Oxford, at twenty-one, she was there, accepting her first class honours in English Literature and Mythology. As she smiled for the camera, she could see Tony stood up in the middle of the hall, whistling before he punched the air. “That’s my girl!” He yelled “Katie Maria Stark. That’s my girl! No I won’t sit down…what did you just say?” And he began arguing with the person behind him.

At twenty-six she was crying, tears of happiness as the ramp on the aircraft carrier opened to reveal her brother. His hair was longer, he looked thinner but he was alive. He was barely at the bottom before she flung herself at him, not caring that his arm was a sling.

“Hey Kiddo.” He said softly as she buried her face into his neck.

“You fucking asshole!” She sobbed, “Next time, you ride with Rhodey, you got that?”

“Trust me, there will be no next time.” He chuckled as she pulled back. “Afghanistan is a shit hole.”

A year later she was crying again, sobbing even, as Tony sat with his arms around her, gently shushing her as she sat up in her bed. “How could he do that to me Tony?” She sniffed, her tears dampening her brother’s t-shirt as he rubbed her back, laying his head against hers. “I thought he loved me…but…” “He isn’t worth your tears, Kiddo.” He sighed “Grant Ward doesn’t deserve them, or you. No one ever will, you got that? No one will ever be good enough for you.”

And then she was walking up the aisle towards her future husband, her arm linked tightly around Tony’s. He pressed a kiss to her head.

“Remember, just because I’m giving you away doesn’t mean I won’t kick his ass if he ever hurts you.” Tony mumbled and she snorted, turning to look at him. “I love you to the stars and back, Katie, remember that…”

Like she could ever forget. Tony hadn’t been to everyone’s taste, hell, at times he hadn’t be hers, and they’d been estranged for two years. But Katie had never, not once, stopped loving the man who had brought her up as his own. Her brother and father all rolled into one.

She finished washing her hair and stepped out of the shower, the tears still not arriving. She began to wonder if there was something wrong with her. She’d cried more when Natasha died. She pulled on a towel robe that was hanging behind the door and began to dry her hair, squeezing the water out of the long strands.

“I remember when you used to do that for me.” She grinned, watching Tony as he sat with Morgan between his legs on the lounger round the pool at her Brooklyn home, rubbing the little girl’s wet hair ferociously with a pink beach towel, making the three year old cackle with laughter. I remember…but Morgan won’t.

And then the cry ripped from her chest, like someone had reached down her throat and pulled it from the very depths of her heart.

***** Steve made sure the guys were settled in a spare apartment a few floors down, the three of them opting to share, none of them particularly wanting to be alone. Making his way back into theirs, he headed straight to the bedroom and heard Katie turn off the water to the shower. With a groan he stripped off the top half of his uniform, dropping the grubby item to the bed. His eyes were drawn to the silver star in the middle, and he ran his fingers over it, the material torn in places having seen better days, much like him.

With a deep breath he reached to pull off his compression shirt, but before he got chance, he heard a noise from the bathroom, a primal, raw, broken scream that chilled his every bone. Quick as flash he crossed the room and pushed open the door to the en-suite and found his wife slumped on her knees on the floor, screaming and crying uncontrollably.

“He’s gone! He’s gone, he’s gone!” Steve had known this was coming and it broke his heart that he could do nothing to help, nothing to take away the utter desperation and pain and anger his wife was feeling. Without hesitation he dropped to his knees and she turned to him, fisting her hands around his top as he pulled her close, one arm round her back, the other in her hair.

“Let it out,” his voice was croaky as he rocked her, gently stroking her hair as his cheek pressed against the top of her head, “I got you, sweetheart, I got you.” How long they stayed there for, with Katie screaming and crying over the soft sounds of his soothing, Steve had no idea, but eventually her sobs became sniffles as she regained some form of composure.

“Steve,” she managed to stutter as she pulled back to look at him, “Tony’s gone, he’s gone, why? Why did he have to do that? There had to be some other way!” “Oh, Doll.” Steve’s voice cracked, his own heart ached with grief and sympathy and love as he dropped a kiss to her forehead, pulling her onto his lap as he sat back on the floor, making no attempts to move her. He buried his face into her hair, his own sobs catching in his throat.

“All my life Tony has been there.” She whispered gently as kissed her head. “Even when we were apart those years I knew that if I needed him, he would be there…but now…he’s gone and I don’t know what to do.”

“You do what you always do.” Steve whispered softly as he pulled back, cupping her face in his hands, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “You get up, you dust yourself off and you act like the amazing, strong, beautiful woman you are. My wife, my baby momma.”

“I don’t know if I can. Katie spluttered.

“Yes, you can. You’re the strongest person I know.” He implored her, sniffing a little.

“I don’t feel strong.”

“You won’t.” He shook his head. “Not yet. But I’m here. Okay? And we’ll do it together.”

Katie looked at him for a moment before she moved once more to bury her face into his t-shirt again, simply breathed him in. His warmth and familiar smell, even if he wasn’t as fresh as he could be after the exertion of battle, was a comfort, a balm to her broken soul.

Tony was gone, she knew that, but she wasn’t on her own. She’d never be on her own as long as she had Steve.

****

“Don’t be sad Momma.” Jamie whispered, as Katie’s tears tickled down her cheeks, her son on her lap. TO her right, Emmy sat on her father’s, despite her age meaning she was normally way past that stage, as she cried into his chest, his arms gently cradling her. “Uncle Nee isn’t on his own.” “What do you mean, baby?” Katie asked, sniffing as he played with a strand of her hair.

He looked at her with his baby blue eyes and shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “Because he’s with Auntie Nat-Nat.”

“Yeah,” Katie stuttered, a soft sob escaping her. “You’re right. But I’m still sad, but you don’t need to be worried about that okay?” Jamie nodded, before he blinked and frowned. “I can kiss it better, like you kiss my ouches better.”

Katie smiled as he leaned up, connecting his lips to hers with a loud smacking noise.

“That’s it, you just made it all okay.” She smiled, wiping her eyes.

“When can we go home?” Emmy asked, sitting up slightly, her voice croaky.

“Soon, I promise.” Steve looked at her. “I think we’ll stay here for tonight, your mom and I both need a rest.”

Emmy nodded “I expect kicking alien butt for hours takes it out of you.” Steve snorted. “A little.” “You did it though. Everyone came back.” “Yeah, and on that note,” Katie picked up, “we have some people we’d like you to meet. That’s if you’re feeling up to it.” “Is it them? Bucky, Sam and Wanda?” Emmy asked, her wet brown eyes opening wide.

“Yeah.” Steve smiled. “And, if it’s ok with you, we thought we could all have breakfast together.”

“Pancakes?” Jamie asked hopefully and Katie nodded, dropping a kiss to his head.

“Pancakes” She affirmed.

“Now?”

“Do you ever think about anything but this?” Katie chuckled, prodding his tummy. He pondered for a second.

“Legos.” he said, nodding. “I think about my legos sometime.”

Emmy snorted and Steve let out a little laugh “Pancakes and legos eh, son?” he reached out and ruffled Jamie’s hair. “What more could a three year old want?”

****

Manhattan was in utter chaos and going out in public was the last thing Steve or Katie wanted for fear of being mobbed. However, the kitchens in the tower were well stocked and after sending Emmy to forage what she could, it was easy for Katie to whip up a batch of batter and throw some bacon into a pan.

She set Emmy to work chopping some fruit, and never one to miss out, she stood Jamie on a chair in front of her and gently guided his hand as he held the whisk to stir the batter. Katie was literally grabbing the ladle to drop the first load into the pan, when the door to the apartment opened and Steve’s voice carried in to the kitchen.

“Hey guys?” Jamie squealed in excitement and Katie moved so he could get down. He shot out of the kitchen, barrelling into the lounge where he skidded to a halt by his dad and gazed up at the three strange adults in front of him.

The first thing that hit Bucky was just how like Steve the little boy was. Stocky, bright blue eyes and a shock of dark blonde hair.

“He looks like you.” He smiled, nodding to Steve as Katie stepped into the room with Emmy and smiled.

“Jamie, Emmy, this is Bucky, Sam and Wanda.” Steve introduced them all, as Emmy raised her hand shyly in greeting.

Meanwhile, Jamie simply gazed up at Bucky, his attention focussed directly on his metal arm and Bucky suddenly began to worry that it would scare him. He was attempting to move it out of view by standing side on, until Jamie stepped forward with all his usual boldness and pointed.

“Is that metal?” “Jamie.” Steve spoke, his tone soft. He couldn’t scald his son for being curious, but at the same time he had seen the apprehension in Bucky’s eyes. Apprehension that had now turned to amusement.

“Yeah it is.” Bucky chuckled, crouching down so he was eye level with his namesake. He held his left hand up, wiggling the fingers. “Wanna touch it?” Jamie reached out and placed his palm against Bucky’s prosthetic and grinned, “Cool,” before he looked up at Steve. “Can I have one?”

“Absolutely not.” Steve shook his head with a grin.

“You think that’s cool you should see my wings.” Sam crouched down next to Bucky, smiling at Jamie.

“You have wings?” The little boy’s eyes grew wide “I want…”

“No!”

“Fine I’ll just ask Santa.” Jamie shruggged and Sam let out a loud laugh.

“I like this kid!” he grinned, standing up.

“You can have him.” Steve winked, as Bucky stood up straight and grinned. “Saves us sending him to The Children’s Prison.” “Morgan told me there’s no such place.” Jamie looked at his Dad and Steve let out a sigh. The threat of the Child Prison was their biggest bargaining chip when he was being naughty. Especially as the naughty step wasn’t an option, because the first (and last) time they tried that they caught him climbing up the staircase and sliding down the bannister.

“I told you titch, it does.” Emmy gave a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I lived there before mom and dad adopted me. And all they give you to eat all day is slugs and slime…” Steve shared a look with Bucky and let out a loud laugh.

“Don’t.” Bucky shook his head with a grin.

“You gave Becca nightmares for days with that story!” Steve laughed as he recalled Bucky telling his sister about a hole in the ground where bad kids went. “She wouldn’t go near a manhole for months!”

“I can still feel the blow round the ears my Pa gave me.” Bucky automatically reached up to rub at the back of his head. The well natured chatter continued as they made their way into the kitchen. Steve went to brew the coffee as Sam, Wanda and Bucky took seats round the table with the kids. Occasionally he caught the odd snippet of their chat as Jamie told Bucky about his toys at home, informed Sam all about his friend at day-care, whilst Emmy was busy talking to Wanda about school and what she wanted to do in the future. But all the time Steve had one eye on his wife as she stood, silently, cooking enough pancakes to feed a small army.

Which, to be fair, was probably what they would need with two super soldiers and a hungry three year old to feed.

Moving over towards her, he slipped his arms around her waist and dropped a kiss to her cheek.

“You ok?” He asked, before he sighed “Sorry, stupid question.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No it’s not stupid, I know what you meant. And honestly, no. I’m not. Not really. But I will be, in time. I hope.”

Steve dropped another kiss to her cheek and winced as a loud “GET A ROOM!” sounded across the kitchen and he turned to glare at his son. Bucky and Sam exchanged a gleeful look as Steve raised his hand and pointed at Emmy accusingly. “That was not me!” She scoffed, indignantly “It was Bucky that told him to say it.” “If this is the impression you have on my kids after all of fifteen minutes, James Buchanan Barnes, then I’m going to have to seriously consider letting you near them again.” Katie shook her head as she dropped the plate of pancakes into the middle of the table.

“Why did you just call him James?” Jamie asked, frowning

“Because my name is James too.” Bucky answered for Katie.

“No, it’s Bucky.”

“He only gets called James when he’s been bad, bit like you, pal.” Steve chuckled, placing Jamie’s plate of food in front of him. “Now eat that, and then you can show Buck your legos.”

“My legos are here?” Jamie said, grinning.

“Yeah they’re in your bag, we brought them from the compound.” Steve answered, dropping a kiss to his son’s head.

“What the hell is a Lego?” Bucky asked, his face contorted in confusion. The room feel silent as all eyes turned to the man who glanced around, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “What?” ****

Rhodey called later that morning to give them a heads up that the President would be addressing the nation later that afternoon, and to also inform Katie that they were talking about honouring both Tony and Natasha posthumously. Katie had merely snorted, not entirely sure what Tony would have said about any of that, until Rhodey made her laugh about the last time he had received an honour, getting stabbed with the pin by the Senator awarding it to him, Senator Stern.

Who had turned out to be HYDRA.

True to his word, just as he had done five years ago, President Ellis’ address rang out across the nation at precisely three that afternoon, on every TV and Radio channel there was.

“I know there is much speculation surrounding the events of the last 24 hours, and it is for that reason I find myself addressing you all once more, with regards to the Decimation. Only this time I am happy to greet you all with much better news. Thanks to the brave actions of the Avengers and countless others who fought in a ferocious battle Upstate, the Vanished have been returned to us in the same state in which they left.

But it isn’t without cost.

Unfortunately, I have the very sad job of confirming to you all that the rumours are true. Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff both lost their lives in the mission to bring everyone back. My sincere condolences and thoughts are with the rest of the Avengers, in particular the Rogers and Stark families, and I’m sure I speak for the entire world when I say we will be forever indebted to the two fallen heroes for their brave sacrifices which ensured that friends and families across the globe could be reunited.”

Katie glanced down at her hands as she took a deep breath, the tears falling into her lap as Steve’s arm curled round her shoulder, sniffing a little as his own eyes were once again misted over.

“I know you will all have many questions, some of you will be at a loss as to what to do, and unfortunately I don’t have all the answers, so it is for that reason, if I may, I’d like to address those who have been returned to us.

Over the past five years the world has become a very different place to the one you knew. People lost entire families, friends, husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends. We had to rebuild, make sense of living without you. So I ask you , please be patient with us whilst we try once more to make sense of events, only this time they are a lot happier as you have all been returned to us. Don’t take it too personally if we seem a little, well, astounded.”

Ellis paused, wiping his eyes as he smiled, licking his lips.

“Thank you all, God Bless America, and God Bless the Avengers.”

****

That night fireworks exploded across the skies all over the country. The current occupants of the tower sat on the roof watching the symphony of colours and explosions as it light up the Manhattan sky-line, Jamie opting to sit on Bucky’s knee instead of his father’s, because of course Bucky was now his favourite person on the planet.

But Steve didn’t mind, well, not too much anyway.

The next few days passed them by in a bit of a blur. They moved back to the house in Brooklyn. Sam and Bucky came with them. However, surprisingly to Steve (but not to Katie) Wanda opted to head to Clint’s after the archer called and offered her a room. Steve’s time was divided between speaking to the UN, various people in the senate and government alongside Rhodey as they started to make plans to help those people who had returned because reversing the snap had raised a whole cacophony of different problems, just as Tony had predicted it would.

Some of the vanished had come back to find their wives or husbands had re-married. Others found themselves with no-one left as they’d passed away. Some found themselves homeless as new occupants had moved into their apartments which had been left vacant. Two of those people were Peter Parker and his Aunt May, who were now residing in the Tower until Katie could find them somewhere permanent.

And then there were the kids who had been adopted, suddenly finding themselves with two sets of parents.

Katie, on the other hand, had no time or energy for anything other than planning Tony’s funeral with Pepper, and a service of sorts for Natasha with Clint. Natasha’s was to take place first, a small ceremony at Clint’s farm where they would be planting a red maple tree in her honour. Tony’s, however, was slightly more tricky.

Her brother had, at one point, led a very public lifestyle and naturally (even if unfairly) he was attracting the most public interest. They’d been approached by President Ellis, who had asked if they would be open to a full, state public funeral. Katie had been horrified at first, until Pepper had snorted and reminded her that the Old Tony would have loved the attention and fuss.

But New Tony wouldn’t.

Which was why, in the end, they compromised and chose to celebrate the two sides to Tony’s huge personality.

For the Genius, Billionaire, Play-Boy, Philanthropist they would hold a service at St Patrick’s Cathedral and for the husband, father, brother, friend they would then hold a more intimate wake at the lake house, where his ashes would be scattered eventually.

It was draining, emotionally and physically, so it was no surprise to Steve that Katie was constantly tired and a little irritable and the Solider felt the harsh side of her tongue on more than one occasion. But he never bit back, he knew how she was feeling. He’d had to do it with his Ma. Instead he listened to her bounce ideas off him, helped with the organisation where he could, and simply comforted her, holding her close whilst she cried when she needed to.

A week post the return of the Vanished, people seemed to have reached a half-way point, so to speak, between what they had been like before the Snap and what they had become post. But what was noticeable to all of them was that they were persistently mobbed in the street, people wanting to thank them constantly.

Jamie found the whole thing hilarious, waving to people as he walked with his Father one morning to the play-ground. Steve, however, after half an hour had returned home because he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“It’s mad.” He shook his head with a sigh, flopping onto the sofa next to her. “I mean…”

“It’ll die down.” Katie yawned. “Just gonna take a while. People still don’t know what to do. Hell, half the time I don’t know what to do.” She took a deep breath, the back of her hand pressing to her mouth as a queasy feeling washed over her for the umpteenth time that day. “You still feeling crappy?” Steve asked, watching as Jamie sat on the rug with his trucks.

“A little.”

“You thrown up again?” “No.” She shook her head “I don’t feel sick anymore just a little funny, drained almost. I don’t think it’s anything serious. Probably just the stress of all the organising and stuff.”

But as she said the words something in her mind clicked and she sat bolt upright, Steve giving her a curious look.

“What’s wrong?”

“Bruce’s Snap.” She whispered. “The one where he brought everyone back.”

“What about it?”

“What if it brought everyone back?” “Well we know it did…” Steve frowned, not following her line of thought.

“No I mean,” Katie took his hand and placed it on her stomach, “everyone.”

It took Steve a second to cotton on, but when he did he blinked, looking into his wife’s eyes, a faint buzzing ringing in his ears.

“Shit.” He spluttered out.

“Language.” Jamie reprimanded him almost immediately, but both parents ignored him.

“I didn’t,” Steve swallowed, “I mean, I didn’t even consider that a possibility. Do you think it has?”

Katie took a deep breath. “I dunno, I mean the first snap took it away…”

They stayed still for a moment, simply looking at each other, both thinking the same. If one snap had taken their baby, the second snap could quite as easily have brought it back.

“I think I need to go to the store.” Katie muttered.

**** Less than an hour later husband and wife were stood in the bathroom looking down. Down at four different tests. Four different tests that all told them the same thing.

“I can’t believe it.” Steve whispered, his arms wrapping around his wife from behind as he stared down at the test in her hand.

“Me neither.” She whispered, turning to face him, tears in her eyes.

“I’m gonna be a daddy, again.” His hands fell to her hips, blue eyes shining as she gave him a smile, the tears falling down her face.

“And I’m gonna be fat again.” She spluttered, a watery laugh. There was a pause, before Steve’s face cracked into a huge grin and he pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms round his neck and he hugged her close, the pair of them laughing through their tears.

“I like you fat with my kid.” Steve pulled away, wiping the tears that were trickling down her face with his thumbs. She smiled and returned the gesture, brushing the back of her hand over his wet cheeks.

“I love you. So fucking much.” He whispered softly as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“I love you too.” Her voice croaked before Steve pulled her close once more, his huge arms holding her tightly to him, as he breathed her in, his face pressing into her hair.

And for the first time in a week, Katie’s heart felt a little less broken.

**** Chapter 59

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

The Studio — Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 9.6k words

Genre: (lots of) smut, angst, final fluff

Rating: 18+

Hello cuties! Welcome back! I had assumed I would be done with Hobi’s piece in the studio quite soon, however it took me some extra hours. Writing it was extremely difficult! Let me remind you that this is NSFW, so minors, please do not read or interact.

PSA — If you’re interested, I was thinking of making a taglist, so you’ll receive a note on your activity feed whenever I publish a new piece (since I know sometimes app notifications do not work). Also, in the next two or three weeks I’ll be busy with university, so I don’t think I’ll be able to write full one-shots. This means I’ll be posting small drabbles that will help me lay the groundwork for all the filth I’ve been storing away from you (and that I’ve hinted in the masterlist). The polls will stay open and you’ll be able to vote for next prompt, however it will take me a while before I start writing again according to your requests.

This piece is a one shot and it takes place in some indefinite future in the official timeline, shortly after him and Giggles have moved in together (quick reminder, Giggles is the nickname he has given the reader, however if you want to know how I imagined her, you can find her headcanons here).

Synopsis: Giggles has been a little uncomfortable after she has moved into his apartment, mostly because his job has kept him from going back home. After a week of struggle, she heads to Hoseok’s studio to grab her man with the help of special weapons.

DESCRIPTION AND TRIGGER WARNINGS: angst at the beginning, reader is upset and cries. Other than that, this is filthy. NSFW, contains several BDSM themes, such as domination (Dom!reader, Switch!Hoseok and a fluffy dose of vanilla sex because I needed to cleanse my soul), rope bondage (wrists), blindfold, sensation play and mild impact play (flogger, hinted riding crop and tickler), pretty intense edging, teasing, oral sex and masturbation (both male and female receiving), squirting, MULTIPLE ROUNDS (it’s Hoseok, come on!). Emotionally challenging: Hoseok feels guilty as hell, reader is quite angry, but they’re both lovesick puppies by the end of it. Special warning: one bratty Jimin appears at the end of the piece.

Word count: 9.6k

Here is my masterlist! Enjoy!!!

——————————————————

A lowfi mix came from behind Hoseok’s door. He was probably just chilling as he worked on something else. It wasn’t uncommon for him to listen to random stuff as he looked for inspiration, especially since he was currently trying to work with a more old school R’n’B vibe. He had a new artist he wanted to collaborate with and this new genre was becoming increasingly challenging, especially since he wanted it to have that early Two-thousand flow, reminding him of that time he had started venturing into Western hip hop, thinking about dates and girls and teenage crushes.

The bag felt a bit heavier on your shoulder now that the music showed you his mindset. This could turn into a very one-of-a-kind type of night.

You knocked at the door. The music turned down a notch, as if he wasn’t quite sure he had heard right.

Hesitantly, shutting your eyes tight, you knocked harder before pressing your hand to your chest, curling around it in fear. Hoseok could be harsh when interrupted: though he usually realised and apologised, seeing him mildly disappointed always gave you a chill down your spine, and not the good one.

His shadow appeared from behind the opaque glass door.

The door unlocked and opened. “Hey, hello there.” His expression was blank for a second before he realised you were quite neutral, as if trying to square yourself before seeing him.

Something caved in your chest. He had deep, dark circles under his eyes. “Hi.”

“Are you coming in?” He asked.

“I only wanted to ask when you’re coming back home.” You said, your lip slightly trembling.

He blinked.

“I’ve texted you and called you, but you didn’t reply.”

He blinked twice. “What time is it?”

You exhaled and made to turn around and walk away.

“Giggles.” He called, chasing after you and catching you in his arms, backhugging you. “Baby.”

“No. I’m done with baby and all of that. I’m fucking done.” Tears started falling. Your plan had gone to hell. All your mental briefings and getting yourself in the right mindset were useless by now. The bag made you feel twice as frustrated. “I am tired, Hoseok.”

That made him feel like a scolded puppy. You had never uses that tone with him, never used his full name while scolding him.

“I am tired.” Now that your first tear was spilled, all the others came out without any control. “I am exhausted.”

He pressed you harder into him. “I promise it will end soon.” He smiled as he saw you turn and hide into him.

“I am tired of your promises. You made me move in and then disappeared for a week straight. I don’t know where I can put my stuff, I had to handle transport, to talk with my landlord, to do everything by myself. And I’ve been doing double shifts all week. I am raw with exhaustion and I’ve had absolutely zero support.” You sobbed, pressing your pointer finger into his chest, before laying your punch against his breastbone, angry and tired and accusing. “You were supposed to be my certainty but you gave me fucking nothing.” He flinched when he heard you swore. You never swear at him. The fact that you’ve done it twice in the same argument spoke volumes about how angry you were. “You were supposed to give me certainties. But you don’t even answer to my texts.” You punched him weakly. “I hate you so much.”

Now he was worried. Heavily worried. Anxious. “Let’s get in the studio, ____. Come on, love.”

“I don’t want to come in.”

He shook his head, tipping your chin back. “I said, come in.”

“You don’t get to order me around, Hoseok. Not like this. I’ve been doing everything you’ve asked me. I’ve been saying ‘yes, sir’ to every single one of your requests and look where that brought me.” You shoved your face away, out of his grasp.

He cupped your face with both hands. “Look at me.” He ordered. He tried again, softening his voice, panicking as you strongly opposed. “Look at me, little bird.”

You obeyed. It was the fucking nickname’s fault.

“Come in with me. I want to talk about this, make up for my mistakes.” He dried your tears with his thumbs. “I want you to tell me how to fix this. What you want me to do.” He combed your hair back with gentle fingers. “You say I keep ordering you around, and that has made you unhappy. I want to turn the tables. Let you order me what to do.” He started taking tiny steps backwards, toward his door, waddling with you in your arms. “This is the last time I beg you to do what I’ve asked you, for tonight. After this you’re absolutely free, Giggles. It’s all up to you, but please, let’s talk it out in my studio.”

You sniffled. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” He smiled weakly.

You followed him.

The studio was clad in soft lights, the bass of the song making the air in the room feel like a warm, inviting, sultry cocoon. He moved to the desk, making the music nothing but a quiet whisper. “Let’s sit on the sofa over there, yeah?” He sat down and patted the cushion beside him.

Reluctantly, you sat down, removing your jacket and placing the bag beside you, on the floor.

“I made a mistake. I didn’t support you. I am sorry. I’ve been busy with my job but that is not an excuse, nor a good reason to disappear while you’re struggling.” He admitted.

“I’ve been sleeping in that bed alone for a week. It was heartbreaking.” You said with a furrowed brow and a pout. “It hurt so much that sadness became anger.”

He combed his hair with his hands. “I fucked up.”

“You did.” You confirmed. “I can handle a bit of loneliness. I’ve been alone for a long time. But that hurts inside your house.”

“It’s our house now.” He argued, deeply unhappy.

“Is it now?” You accused.

You saw his expression turn hurtful. “Are you going to leave?” He said, afraid that that would be his punishment. He knew there would be a price to pay, he just hoped it wouldn’t cost him his whole happiness with you.

“I can’t handle it now. Plus I don’t have much choice. It’s either there or my parents but I can’t move out of the city and do double shifts at work.” You said. “I’m stuck here because I trusted you. Because I gave up all my alternatives for you. You told me to trust you, that I could count on you. What am I going to do now?”

You looked so broken. He felt his eyes well with tears. His voice came out shaky. “Tell me what to do. Anything.”

“You’re gonna do what you want anyways.” You said, a bit hostile.

“No. Please, can you tell me what to do?” He tried to hold your hand. You let him.

“I want you home tonight.” You said, naming your price.

“Okay.” He felt ready to do anything. If you asked him to fly all the way to Paris and bring a box of macarons, champagne and fresh red roses, he would simply whip his phone out and look for the next flight. Fuck, he would teach himself how to fly a plane if need be.

“I want you home every night for the next week. I want dinner together.” You said, punching your index finger into your thigh. “You can use your home studio after dinner, I don’t care, you can stay up all night, but I swear if I have to fall asleep one more night alone in that damn bed, I’m going to gut you.”

“Okay.” He hadn’t come back home because he knew that having you around would mean getting no work done, as he much preferred giving you attention and laying down with you, watching a movie or putting to good use that big bed of his.

“And I want cuddles.”

“Yes, love.”

“Daily cuddles.”

He smiled as you contested like a child. “Yes, little bird.”

“And I want sex at least once a week for the next month.” You said, knowing that you could have much better than that, but you were aiming at the bare minimum.

“Once a week?” He asked, a bit dumbfounded.

“At least.”

That had him nodding. “Can do.”

“Pinkie promise.”

He smiled wider, hooking his pinkie with yours. “Pinkie promise.” As you pressed your thumbs together, sealing the deal, he brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “What now? Can I hug you?”

“No. Go lock the door.” He looked at you dubious.

“Lock it.” You repeated.

He stood up and obeyed. “Now what?”

The negotiation had set you back into your original path. You had come for revenge and you were ready to execute it. “On your chair.” He was going to see how it feels to be powerless. Lost. Alone.

His heartbeat started increasing. He wanted to see where your plan was going to take him. He sat on his chair. “Here.”

“Close your eyes.” Your voice shook a little. You cleared it and said again: “Close your eyes, now.”

He bit his lip. He was getting turned on. A part of himself asked him how sick he must be for this, but he followed your lead, closing his eyes and laying his hands on the armrests. “Are you going to punish me?”

You shook your head before realising that he couldn’t see your movements. “I am going to do as I please.”

He snickered.

“Quiet.” You warned quietly.

He licked his lips and regained his composure. “Sorry.”

You bent and opened the bag. You found your first bundle and started unraveling it, walking back and forth in front of the sofa, stopping with your back to him.

“Take off your clothes.”

“Really?” He asked, incredulous.

“Do I look like I am joking?” You replied from over your shoulder.

“Okay.” He undressed quickly, letting his clothes fall to the floor. “Do you want me to...”

“Quiet.” You repeated.

He closed his eyes and bent his head down. He was naked on the chair, unsurprised by his own erection.

You took a few steps towards him. As soon as you reached him, you gave him further instructions. “Do not open your eyes. I am going to touch you but if you open your eyes, you won’t like the consequences.”

“Wait.” Hoseok murmured. “How are you feeling now?”

You stopped. “What do you mean?”

“Are you angry at me?” Hoseok asked, his voice meek, hesitant, unhappy. “I’ve never seen you like this. I’m worried.”

You couldn’t do this to him. You couldn’t tie him up and torture him to tears, break him like that. Even though you really wanted to.

“I’m angry a bit, yes.” You replied. You exhaled, waiting in silence.

“I don’t think we should be doing this, then.” He suggested quietly. “I’ll be honest. You’re scaring me a little.”

You placed the rope on top of the desk, out of his angle of vision. “Open your eyes”, you said, placing your hands on his cheeks. His stare met yours. “What if I tell you my plans and you tell me if you’re okay with it?”

He pressed his face against your belly, kissing it. “I’m so sorry.” He nuzzled into your shirt. “I feel so bad.”

You moved your hands from his cheeks to his hair. “This is how I’m helping you with your guilt.” You massaged his shoulders. “I want to take care of you. You must have been so stressed here.”

“I’m the one at fault. I should be the one taking care of you.” He said with big puppy eyes. He looked up at you with his chin propped against your stomach.

“You can take care of me by letting me take the lead. Right now I need to feel like I can control something.” You traced his lips with your thumb, your index finger tracing the ridge of his nose with its lovely curve.

“Then control me.” He said, puckering his lips around your thumb.

“Are you still scared of me?” You asked.

“I’m scared of you going too far or pushing myself too far to please you.” He confessed. “But it’s something unconscious. I know I can trust you.”

“Still, I could tell you my plans.” You suggested sweetly.

“I trust you.”

“You don’t have to do stuff you don’t feel like doing just to please me.” You reminded him politely.

“That’s why we have safewords. When I don’t feel good I’ll use them.” He said, matter-of-factly. “They’re not there only for you.” He smiled.

You were quite curious about how his nakedness seemed to unfaze him. But then again, after more than a year together, at this point nakedness in front of each other felt natural.

“Don’t push yourself just to please me.” You scolded him.

“I won’t. If I don’t feel good, we stop and I’ll make love to you.” He stated plainly.

You thought about it. After all this time you knew Hoseok’s limits and insecurities. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He settled back into his chair, his hands gripping the armrests. He closed his eyes. “I’m ready.”

His chest was so skinny. It felt like staring at a hummingbird. “Are you keeping your eyes closed or would you like a blindfold?”

He smiled. “Kinky.” He breathed out. He paused. “Blindfold.”

You smirked and grabbed it from your backpocket. You already knew he would have chosen to wear it. “I will touch you now Hoseok. Let’s see if you can recognise it.” You stretched towards the rope on his table, keeping it rolled up and brushing it gently against his face.

“Oh.” He rubbed his cheek against it, pressing his lips and then parting them to use his tongue. “I’m getting tied up, aren’t I?” He asked.

“Would you like to?” You asked. Blindfolded and tied up was always a daring combination. You had first done it for his birthday, but back then you hadn’t intended to overstimulate him to tears. That time you had simply used your advantage to give him the ride of his life, physically restraining him from taking control and straining himself to please you. The bondage technique had helped you keep him still long enough to relax. After almost literally sucking him dry, you had managed to ride him, watch him come apart for the fourth time and see him fall asleep like a kid at your side, not a care in the world. It had been a wildly satisfying experience.

“Are you going to use me like last time?” He asked, eyes still closed but his hands reaching out for you.

“Not really.” You commented. “I was thinking of something… softer? So to say.” You bit your lip. He couldn’t see your devious smile anyway.

“I’m interested.” He said, blindly running his hands down your thighs. “Tell me what to do.”

Clutching the rope between your thighs, you used one hand to comb his hair and trace the lovely lines of his face. “I’ll put the blindfold on you now, Hoseok. Is that okay, handsome?”

“Yes.” He said, his cheeks twitching with a small smile.

Putting a blindfold on someone else is a lot more difficult than it seems, however you managed to press the wide silken mask against his eyes, hooking the elastic band with your fingers and slipping it behind his head. “Is it safe?”

“Yes, Giggles.” He replied, turning his head in an attempt to kiss your wrist. You noticed the gesture and offered him your hand, brushing the back of it against his cheek. He managed to press his lips to your knuckles. “I love you.”

You bent down and let your lips hover over his. “Can you feel me?”

“So close.” He whispered. Sometimes he had this sixth sense, like his body — so used to perceive himself in time and space while dancing — had this special sensibility to closeness. Depriving him of sight made it look even more supernatural. It made you feel like he could perceive you spiritually. It felt religious. Metaphysical. You had missed this connection and you had been craving it for a while.

“Can you kiss me, Hoseok?”

He licked your lips in reply, his mouth hanging open, his lower lip brushing against yours so sensually that you envelopped it in yours, sucking.

He moaned, your eyes closing as you felt your body reach another level of arousal. It felt extraordinary. It felt like you were making love to your own body through his nakedness and arousal. Feeling this wanted, exploiting this bond between the two of you, the way your body mirrored his sensations, it was stronger than anything you had ever experienced.

You let go of his lip. “I’m gonna start tying you up now. This is the right moment to stop me, bub.”

“Keep going.” He said, his voice slightly gravelly.

“Okay.” You moved around the chair, studying how to use your prop smartly.

You noticed two thin metal tubes connecting the headrest to the back of the chair. Interesting. You unravelled your bundle of rope and found the middle quickly thanks to the mark placed there.

You remembered Hoseok coming back home with a big box, placing it on top of the coffee table as you were chilling on the sofa. “I want it cut, marked and hemmed by nine o’ clock.” He had said, voice dark, as he offered you a sewing kit and a fabric meter. “You’ll find instructions in the box.” He kissed your head as you sat on the floor and opened the box, dumbfounded. “I can’t use it tonight, but I’ll reward you if you do a good job.” Inside there was one entire spool of rope: the tag read “a hundred meters - pure cotton”. You spent the rest of the evening attending to your chore. Once you were done, you went knocking at Hoseok’s door. He spent the rest of the night repaying you for your fine accomplishment.

“Can you place your hands on your nape” You asked, noticing that he did so immediately.

“Thank you.” You chirped as you started tying him up, placing two fingers between his skin and the rope to make sure you didn't tighten too much. The position was delicate since his blood circulation could be affected by his forearms being upside down, tying the knot too tight would inevitably mean worsening the situation.

Once his wrists were safely secured to the small steel tube, you checked on him. “Is it good, bubs? Too tight?”

“I'm good, thank you, Giggles.” He replied.

“I’m going to grab my bag quickly. I’ll be a few steps away for a couple seconds, bubs.” You said, making sure that he didn’t panic as you stepped away.

A sultry, suggestive song came on, a slow Nineties hip hop track. It was inspirational, especially as you picked up your bag and placed it on top of his desk, near you and his chair, making sure that you wouldn’t need to leave him alone for longer than a couple seconds. Any person with a sliver of common sense would understand it is an awfully bad idea to leave someone bound, blindfolded and unguarded.

You stood in front of him with your hands behind your back and bent to his ear. “I’m here.” You murmured before standing up and dragging your nails down his neck and chest, stopping right at his stomach without neglecting his nipples, circling around them a couple times. He looked delicious, his cock hard and leaking on his lower abs. You observed the twitching of his slim shaft, the lovely curve of it, the taunting pink of his tip glimmering with wetness.

Teasingly, biting your lip, you gathered some of his precum on your fingertip, his lips parting with a purring sound.

“Giggles, please.” He whined.

You smiled as he exhaled, his mouth hanging open, and you deviously slipped your fingertip past his lips.

“Can you taste how turned on you are, Hobi?” You murmured, pressing your digit against his tongue.

He bit down playfully before twirling the tip of his tongue around your finger.

Giggling, you removed it.

“Does it tickle?” He asked.

You licked your lip. “Maybe.”

He shook his head just as you punished his disrespect with a gentle slap on his cheek. “You’re in no position to play games, Hoseok.”

He regained his composure. “Sorry.”

You shook your head yourself, standing up and moving behind him. His sides were vulnerable with his hands tied up and behind his head. You started thinking how you could use this against him. For now you simply decided that his inner forearms were normally sensitive enough to be a good starting point. He always started from your inner forearms. Drawing lines and twirls with your nails, you saw him shiver, his mouth gaping.

“You’ve moved.” He murmured, his fingers wiggling as he searched for contact, giving up once he noticed there was no chance. Daring and playful, you tickled his palms, moving so quickly that he didn’t manage to grab you.

His inner upper arm was even more sensitive, however touching it would mean that he would probably be able to touch you back. You could use something to reach out. You stood back, circling around the chair. It was a lot more complicated now. You had thought that seeing him like this would immediately tell you what you wanted to do to him. You had packed a variety of supplies in case sudden inspiration struck you, but now your lack of planning and your excess of toys confused you even more.

You had him naked and tied up to a quite limiting armchair. You knew your goal was to stimulate him as much as possible, listen to his pretty whines and watch him grow more and more desperate. Get him turned on out of his mind. Surprise him.

Kneeling, you patted his knees with your palms. “Open up.”

He inched his hips forward, his torso slouching against the back of the chair, his thighs parting further. “More?” He asked.

“Perfect.” You said, kissing his knees.

“Oh, you’re gonna do it like the other time?” He asked, bucking his hips up and slouching further. “You wanna blow me?”

You smiled, sending a cold breath running up his inner thigh.

His moan followed like a tide, like sunlight chasing the horizon at sunset.

You mirrored the gesture on the other leg, satisfied with the effect you had just elicited. “Do you want me to?” You asked, referring to his proposition.

“Your choice, Giggles.” He murmured, his reply melting into a ‘fuck, yeah’ as you licked up his thigh.

He could imagine your bubblegum pink tongue against the pale skin of his inner leg, your eyelids fluttering closed as you brought your tongue closer to his cock.

He had the softest baby hair on his inner leg. You wondered how it could be so thin and soft. Once you reached his crotch, you parted your mouth from his skin, your hot breath fanning on the sensitive head of his cock. Making sure that your hair was out of the way, you kissed the skin of his abdomen following the shadow that his sex projected on his belly. The point was that of being that close but not touching him.

It turned a bit more difficult when his hips jerked in an attempt to connect his cock with your lips while you sucked a love bite right on top of where his tip was laying. You moved back. “Stay still, Hoseok. Don’t make me tie up your legs too.” You warned. He huffed out a strained breath and shivered as you continued your trip down the other side with small kisses, finally licking down the other thigh, sitting back on your heels and placing a sweet peck on his knee. Now that his whole crotch area, thighs and abs were wet, blowing cold air all over him was even more fun, your lips directing your breath on different parts, making him try to escape your evil attentions.

“Giggles, you’re so bad.” He mewled, a tiny, desperate laugh underlining his sentence.

Your hands reached the base of his feet, your nails dragging against the natural crease at the center of his foot.

“It tickles.” He said, his legs jumping up as he tried to escape that sensorial torture.

“No touching you there?” You asked, eyebrows curving upwards in wonder. “Okay.”

He planted his feet firmly on the base of his office chair. “Please.” He said.

“It’s okay, Hobi.” You replied sweetly. His dancer feet were too sensitive for that and you’d rather avoid him moving too much and possibly falling from the chair. “How are you feeling?” You asked, standing up. You were at a crossroad. From his answer depended the rest of the evening.

“I’m doing great. This feels incredible, Giggles.” He smiled, complimenting you.

“Are you down for a level up?” You asked.

He nodded. “I’m curious.”

“Choose a number from one to three.” You asked him, your voice bubbly.

“What is it?” He asked. He was afraid of the consequences. Was it going to be the number of times he was allowed to cum? Or maybe something else?

“Just a game, Hobi. Choose a number.” You repeated.

A bit hesitant he said: “Two.” He said. Like us, he thought. He kept the idea to himself, thinking it cheesy. Plus two was halfway. Nothing bad can happen if you stay halfway, right?

You raised your eyebrows and considered cheating. He would never know. You had really prepared three toys and numbered them, however, out of the three objects you had prepared, number two was the one that scared you the most, convincing yourself to pack it just in case he flipped and took the lead. Hoseok could be extremely powerful with that tool in hand and it was probably your favourite accessory for him to use on you.

Unfortunately — or maybe very fortunately — it was you who had to control it tonight.

With quite some courage, you pushed your hand into the bag, finding the handle and gripping it tight as you extracted the black leather device from the bag. The tails of the flogger met your skin gently, caressing it with their delicate, velvety touch. Each tail was made of suede, giving a special feel to the touch. He had never openly admitted how expensive it was, but you knew it was a lot.

As your dominant hand held the handle, the other toyed with the tails, gripping them and wrapping them around your fist; looking at Hoseok, you started thinking where to start.

Easy.

His inner arms were there, pale, slender and so sensitive. “Can you feel me?” You asked, bending down, your breath tickling the free skin of his wrists.

“Yes.” He commented. “Behind my back. You’re so close but I can’t reach you.” He whined, struggling a little against the rope.

“Are your hands okay? Is the knot too tight?” You checked.

He breathed out. “Yes, I’m okay. Thank you.” He stilled on the chair since he realised he couldn’t touch you.

“My pleasure, Hoseok.” You replied, spurring him on a little. “Would you like me to tell you what’s the number you chose?”

He thought about it, but he realised that most of the arousal he was experiencing was because of the complete unexpectedness of each sensation. “Surprise me.”

You smiled, running the butt of the handle against his upper arm, teasing the top of his armpit. He shivered adorably, the sensation making his arm tingle with goosebumps.

“How does it feel?” You asked, curious.

“Wicked. But also interesting.” He replied, shivering again as you repeated the gesture on the other side. “Very sensitive.”

“Can you guess what it is?” You asked, gripping the flogger from where the tails met the handle, leaving the underside of the shaft free to press against his lips. He sniffed it. “Leather.” He sniffed some more. “Your hand lotion. Is it the handle of something?” He asked, dragging his cheek against it.

In the meanwhile you made sure that the tails were wrapped tight around your fist so that they wouldn’t give you away. “Maybe.” You replied, removing the object from his face and unwrapping the suede straps from your other palm, keeping the toy away from him. You trapped all the tails back, leaving only one out. That’s how to start.

Hoseok, momentarily blinded, kept thinking of what the object could possibly be. “Is the number connected to what you’re using now?”

“Yes. Each number meant a toy. I’m using number two right now.” You said, letting that single string drag from the small hollow between his collarbones down to his belly button. Your small hand struggled around the instrument, however your nerves helped you keep a tight grip.

“You have more than one?” He asked, moaning as the tail tickled the base of his cock. “What the hell is it?” He said, thrusting his hips upward. “Fuck, please.” He murmured, as you teased his balls. You grinned. “It’s the riding crop, uh? You love that one.” He murmured, just as you moved your hand far from his body, letting the tails fall free before snapping your wrist, making the strings swish.

Hoseok listened to the noise attentively, however the background music kept him from properly identifying the sound. “Is it something we have used before?”

You hit your palm again, softly, knowing that the hip hop track was going to make the toy unrecognisable. As you stood in front of his face, you leaned down and snapped it once more, making sure that he would feel the air move as the tails slapped your hand. Doing it this delicately made it feel almost pleasurable against your skin.

“Yes, we’ve used it before.”

You stood up again, letting the tails hang low. Noticing his length dripping in wetness, you snapped the toy once more against your palm, still far from his skin, simply producing an air current.

“Dammit, please, I just wanna cum.” He cried out.

“Guess my toy and I’ll reward you.” You teased.

He whimpered. “Come on, we’ve tried at least twenty together.” He lamented. “And you’ve given me so little.”

“Then let me give you more.” You giggled, This time you took a deep breath. Courage. You wanted him to hear it for real, not the caressing sweeps, but the harsh, punishing ones he usually delivered. Maybe those would sound more familiar. Exhaling, you hit your clothed thigh. You moaned: it could feel so sweet in your own hand, when you could control it and with the barrier of your jeans.

“It’s leather, I’m sure.” He commented.

You snapped once more, your cunt clenching, wetness making you feel uncomfortable between your thighs as you noticed him flinch at the sound. “Are you sure it’s leather, Hoseok?”

When he heard the third smack, he went insane. It felt unreal to be there, to wait for a hit that wouldn’t come, or even worse to be deep in thought, so close to the answer, but to be brought back to reality with the swishing and clicking sound of whatever it was you were holding. “If you say it like that, I’m not sure.”

Grinning, you let the tails hover over his skin, tickling the air around them, charging his skin with goosebumps. He felt electric. “Is this helping you?” You asked, letting the suede skim his skin.

“Oh. So you’re using my weapons against me...” He wondered just as your free hand cupped his balls, squeezing them gently. He was being too cocky anyway. His following moan decisively toned down his arrogance.

“Sorry.” He whined. “Please.” He moaned while your hand pushed the flogger away, your torso bending forward as you stretched to lick the tip of his cock, collecting the hot droplet of cum he had just spilled. “____, I’m begging, please.”

“Please what?” You murmured against his abdomen.

As he began talking you sucked the smooth head of his dick into your mouth, listening to him stammering and moaning in an attempt to speak. With a sweet stutter he cried out. “Wanna cum. Please.”

You released his sex. “You know the rules. Guess the toy and I’ll let you cum. Don’t make me say it again.” You stood straight and moved the flogger back between his legs, the tails teasing his inner thighs. “How come you haven’t recognised it yet?” You teased.

“It’s a tickler.” He moaned. “The one with the feathers.” He huffed out, just as you caught once more the tails in your palm, wrapping them around your hand and moving your grip, freeing the butt of the handle.

“No, love. I’m sorry.” You said, feigning discontent, but secretly grinning.

He cried out. “Oh, come on, what is it!” He growled, his voice sliding into a whimper as you sucked one of his balls into your mouth.

“Fuck it, Giggles. Please.”

He had said ‘please’ at least four times tonight, that you remembered. Maybe even more. You sucked harder.

“Love your mouth, baby,” he rambled, his sanity long forgotten in the unpredictable events of the evening. He felt his guts tightening, his abs clenching. “So good. Shit.”

As you spotted the telltale pulsing in your mouth, you let go of him.

“No, please. Please.” He begged. It was your favourite word on your lips. When he begged. When he begged to lick you, to let him make you squirt, to slap your delicate breasts, to fuck your mouth, to change position ‘just one more time’, to let him ram into you for the third, fourth ride even if you were tired and overstimulated, your brains only capable of telling him yes because you were too fucked out, too greedy, too in love with him to ever deny him.

“You made a dumb guess, Hobi. How can a tickler make that sound? You heard the smack, before, didn’t you.” You pressed the butt of the toy against his shaft, delicately, dragging it up and down in a very upsetting imitation of a handjob.

He keened as several drops of cum bubbled up from his slit and dribbled down his cock.

“You’re so turned on, uh?” You snickered, teasing him ruthlessly. “You’re barely coherent.”

He couldn’t wrap his head around how his sweet, sparkly, submissive Giggles, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, his precious jewel could turn into such a sadistic, cruel creature.

He had probably ruined you.

He was almost glad. Proud of you.

“Giggles, love. Please, have mercy, baby. You can’t hurt me. You love me.” He murmured, trying to convince himself.

You let him breathe, moving the handle away from his sensitive sex.

“I love you. That’s why I need you to recognise the toy.” You cooed. “You’ve heard how it sounds, and felt how it feels. You can do it, bubs.” You bent to his mouth, letting your lips linger over his.

“It swishes and smashes, but it’s a dry, light smash. Not a paddle. Not a tickler, and not a riding crop either. It’s either a cat-o-nine-tales or a flogger.” He murmured.

“Good boy.” You praised him. “What is it, then Hoseok?”

He felt insane. The moment he realised it was one of the two, he started imagining you holding one, getting even more turned on at the thought. “Use it on me.” He asked. “Please.” He could almost see you, your small figure, your tiny hands wrapped around the thick leather base, the cute flinch on your face as you whipped the tails against your thigh. “Use it on me.” He wished he could see you for real. He just needed you to do it once, to be comfortable to eventually do it again, someday — possibly within the next month — to see you actually use the flogger on him. He felt like going insane.

You frowned. You weren’t skilled enough for using it like that.

Whipping yourself over your clothes was one thing, but hitting him? Naked? Tied up? No. You told him.

“I can’t, Hoseok.”

“Please.” He cried out. “I trust you.” He said, quietly reassuring you. “Place me so that the front of my thigh is free, and direct the blow across my thigh, towards the outer side.”

You breathed a couple times. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” He cried out in relief.

Following his directions, you placed him correctly on the chair, his thigh hanging midair. With your back to him, you murmured quietly “Ready?”

He simply breathed out a ‘yes’.

His cry was immediate. “Oh god, Giggles. Fuck.” You had been heavy handed, still he hadn’t perceived the bite of the small silver balls that his cat-o-nine-tales sported. “Flogger.” He moaned. “Wanna cum, please.”

You immediately dropped the flogger on top of his table. “That’s right, bubs. You’ve been a very good boy.”

He pushed his hips upward. “Your mouth, please.” He begged. “Inside.” He sobbed.

You undressed quickly, your shirt coming off in a second and your jeans following right after. With only your panties on, you kneeled on the floor, not quite making yourself noticed.

“Where are you?” He cried out. “Giggles?”

“Here.” You called. “Between your legs.” You kissed his knee. “You look beautiful, Hoseok. So damn beautiful.” Your mouth climbed up towards his lap, quick and practical, your tongue drawing a line of saliva up his thigh. “I’ll give you thirty seconds. If you don’t cum at that, I’ll stand up, take off your blindfold and touch myself while your hands are tied. Got it?”

He whimpered.

“Got it?” You asked again.

“Yes, Giggles.” He replied, as composedly as possible.

“Good.” You said, before swallowing him.

He groaned, pushing his hips up towards your face. His chair rolled back a bit, but thankfully you grabbed the armrests and managed to secure it.

With wicked intentions you pulled him out, rolling the chair away so that the back sticked to the edge of his desk, keeping it from moving. “Count to thirty for me, Hoseok.”

You didn’t give him time to reply, sinking back onto him.

“One,” he whimpered as you used your hands to stroke the parts you couldn’t take into your mouth.

“Oh, two.” He groaned, pushing some more. You pinched his thigh, reprimanding him for his thrust.

He jumped at that before he cried out a three, panting heavily. “I’m gonna cum.”

Again you pinched.

“Three.” He said with a shrill.

By the count of nine, his hips got impatient, thrusting into you some more, but — lucky him — you felt merciful and disregarded his disobedience as you started to bob your head, before hearing him breathe louder and faster. “That’s it. Giggles, fuck. Love it. So good. Love you.” He managed to babble before he came apart.

You simply stayed there, eyes rimmed with tears, holding your breath as his cum kept spilling inside you. It took him five or six shots before he stilled, empty and spent. Oxygen felt like a blessing once you pulled him out, his tip resting on your tongue. Both your and his breathing were heavy and rushed as you removed your head from his lap and tested it against his thigh.

“Wanna see you, Giggles.” He murmured, his voice hoarse after all the moaning and growling and panting. “Take off the blindfold, baby.” He asked, ready to take control. You were the one who needed attention right now.

“Just a minute.” You murmured, nuzzling your cheek against his leg and closing your eyes.

“Now, Giggles.” He ordered with some urgency.

With a deep sigh, you stood on your knees, stretching towards his face to take off the silk band from his eyes. It took a couple attempts because you couldn't reach perfectly, however you finally managed to uncover him, his eyes immediately focusing on you.

“Hello, little bird.” He said, his tone already sporting that sardonic, telltale undertone. He was going for revenge.

A fearful wave rolled down your spine.

“Hi, Hoseok.” You replied, a bit hazed.

“Can you untie me, little bird? Please?” He asked, but his plea didn't hold the previous submission. This was simply a polite request. “I know you’re tired, pretty thing. Just untie me, I’ll take care of you, I promise, angel.” He said, spotting the way you looked at him like a scared wild animal. “I can’t even cuddle you right now.” He wiggled his wrists. “It hurts like hell to see you this vulnerable and not being allowed to cuddle you, little bird.” His voice expressed affection now, his mood completely changed after he had seen you: the discomfort of your treatment was still fresh but he couldn’t bring himself to torture you back after seeing you curled up between his legs.

You kissed his thigh a little helplessly before whining as you stood up.

“That’s my good girl.” He praised you with a quiet voice.

Undoing the knot was extremely easy. You liked using knots that were simple to undo once you released the safety hook — a reasonable amount of rope strategically tucked into the knot that once tugged simply makes the rope fall to the ground. Hoseok was usually reasonable enough not to untie himself, which meant you could still untie him easily even when your body was tired and your mind felt fuzzy.

When the rope fell to the ground, Hoseok stood still, holding position. Once he jammed a knot because he moved too early and you sulked at him for a week because he made you cut the rope into three unusable lengths. “May I?” He asked.

“Yes.” You confirmed.

He immediately turned the chair so that he was facing you. His arms wrapped around your middle, hugging you tight as you stood between his legs.

“You’ve been so good, Giggles. You’ve been perfect, little bird.” He pulled you into him, making you sit on his lap. “How are you feeling, dove?”

“A bit unsettled.” You admitted. “Strange.”

“What got into you?” He asked, smiling as he stroked your cheek. “You were devilish, pretty thing.”

“I don’t know. I think I was inspired.” You admitted, sinking into his neck, nuzzling into the curve below his ear.

“How did you feel with the flogger?” He asked, caressing your spine gently. He felt soft for you. To hell with revenge, he’d much rather make love to you. Show you all his appreciation for the scene you had staged, your spirit of initiative and the courage you had displayed in taking the lead with the flogger.

“I liked it. It felt new and strange.” You admitted, your arms connecting behind his neck, your hand combing the hair at his nape. “It felt different from when you do it.”

He chuckled. “Yes.”

“It’s not just the role reversal. I felt more confident because I called the shots. I manoeuvred it, so it didn’t feel like I was waiting for it to hurt. The excitement was different.” You kissed his jaw.

Hoseok turned, using his bangs to tickle your cheek. You giggled meekly. “It’s all about having the power to do the unexpected. See how far the other person allows you to go.” He kissed your neck. “I like using it on you because you’re always so soft afterwards. You’re super needy and cuddly and I like assisting you like that.” His hand moved to your side, caressing you reassuringly before his hand ventured under the waistband of your panties, rubbing your ass. “And seeing how far you let me go with the scene makes me see how much you trust me and love me. It’s hot but also cute and affectionate.” He pulled his hand out, dragging it up, skimming your side and cupping your breast, his skilled fingers toying with your nipple. “Do you want me to take care of you?” He asked, his index finger hooking under your chin and pushing your face up, to look at him.

You looked up at him from under your lashes, pouting and giving him the best impression of puppy eyes.

He smiled at you. “What?” He said, with a small chuckle, booping your nose.

“I want your mouth.” You said, biting your lip.

“Where.” He asked, rubbing your tummy, his fingertips toying with the waistband of your panties.

You looked down at your crotch, licking your lip and rolling your eyes coquettishly. “Down there, sir?”

He laughed and bent to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. “Want me to eat you out, little bird?” He snarled and bit your round, fluffy cheek. “Eat you alive?” He asked, holding you tight as he repeatedly sunk his teeth on the fat covering your cheekbone. “Such a naughty girl!” He said, tickling your sides.

Your laugh bubbled up your throat, exploding in a fit of giggles.

“That’s it. The most beautiful sound on the face of earth.” He calmed down once he noticed your short breath. “I love you, ____.” He reminded you.

You smiled so wide your eyes closed. “I love you too.” You stretched your neck to reach his mouth. His lips parted for you, the tip of his tongue drawing the seam of your lips as you disclosed them for him. The kiss was demanding, as usual. The hard, teasing strokes he delivered with the tip of his tongue gave way to a tango of thrusts and twirls, a mind blowing game of flight and chase, small clashing of teeth and sucking bruises onto each other’s lips. You didn’t even know how much time had passed before he gripped your waist, pushing you up. “Stand, little bird.” He murmured softly.

Carefully, you rose to your feet, making sure that your knees didn’t give out below you. His fingers hooked into the sides of your panties. He immediately spotted the wet patch on your grey cotton. “Cute penguin print.” He commented. “Very cute.” He said, his finger moving to toy with the drenched fabric, exposing you. He slid down the chair, kneeling. You took half a step back, only to meet the hard edge of his desk. He had cornered you. You only managed to press your palms into the desk, making sure not to knock anything over or accidentally ruin any equipment.

“Right leg on my shoulder, little dove.” He ordered, his eyes zeroing in on you with a predatory gleam.

You obeyed. Not that you had much choice.

“You’re so wet, Giggles. You enjoyed torturing me this much?” He asked, licking the gusset of your panties. “So nasty.”

“You sounded so good.” You commented, one hand combing his hair back and subtly pushing his mouth against you. “And you tasted even better.”

“These are too cute to rip.” He said, looking at your panties. “I need them off, dove.”

He helped your leg down, immediately dragging the garment down your legs. “Fuck, you’re so drenched.” He growled, noticing the tendrils of arousal sticking your labia together as he placed your leg back on his shoulder. His right arm, free to move, immediately bent so that his hand could spread your wetness all along your slit, before his index and middle finger sank into you, immediately meeting your sweet spot.

“Oh God! Hoseok, please!” One of your hands parted from the table, grabbing his hair.

“Does it feel good?” He asked, crooking his fingers in a come-hither motion. You knew what he wanted to do.

“I’m gonna make a mess, Hobi.” You warned him before a wanton mewl left your lips, betraying you.

“So, do you like it?” He asked again, rubbing his fingers and stretching you out.

“Yes, sir.” You moaned, trying to meet his mouth with your hips. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“You’re about to like it even more, little bird. Hold on tight.” He warned before latching his mouth onto your clit and beginning to torture it with the hard flicks of his tongue. His eyes met yours and you knew he was really going for it. He had that look that meant challenge. You abandoned yourself to your fate.

“Hoseok. Dammit.” You hoped your leg would hold you up because both your hands rushed to his head, pressing it against your cunt. The arm holding your leg moved upwards, sustaining your lower back.

The shift was immediate, the inner sense of burning and the distinct sensations of your inner walls clenching out of your control warning you of what was about to happen. “Hoseok.” You called simply as that overwhelming tide took you under. Your eyes clenched tight, your lower leg quivering dangerously as your orgasm invested him. You knew you had likely squirted over him, especially for the wetness running down your leg. You just hoped there wasn’t a small pool of liquid on his floor.

“That’s it, Giggles. Fucking phenomenal.” He praised you as you gently pulled his mouth away from your clit. He kissed your mound chastely before helping your leg down.

“Did I mess up?” You asked, immediately checking for damage.

“Nothing that a few tissues can’t fix.” He said, standing in front of you, stretching behind you to grab a roll of paper, tearing some and kneeling again, drying up the small puddle. Next he dried your inner thigh. “Are you freaking out?” He asked, knowing that squirting always unsettled you a little.

“The normal amount.” You replied, combing his hair as he looked up at you, collecting all the paper towels and throwing them in the bin.

As he stood again, you felt his hard on against your tummy. “Can you do it standing or do you wanna sit?” He asked, hugging you.

“Your choice. I can handle it.” You replied, still a bit hazy with your previous orgasm.

“Turn.” He murmured, spinning you around with his hands on your waist, your hand moving to press his palm against the small of your back, bending you forward a little. “Like this?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.” You replied.

He bent to your ear. “No need to call me ‘sir’, dove. I’m making love to you.” He said, gently dragging the head of his cock against your folds before slipping in. Once he was halfway in, your mouth open in a silent cry, he pulled out, only to move back in all the way with one smooth stroke.

“Hobi, sweet lord.” You purred, leaning on your elbows, as he started pounding into you. He simply grabbed you under your armpits, pressing his palms against your breasts and pushing you back up, making the angle so right and so intense you thought you would explode again there and then.

However, after a few minutes he simply growled and exited you, pushing you up and turning you around, again. Facing him, you could now see the dark lines forming on his thigh from the flogger, and right on top of that the slim indentation of his abdomen, adorned by his glistening, wet, hard cock.

He let you drink him in with your hungry eyes before tipping your chin up, to make your gazes connect. With his eyes on yours, scorching and demanding, he slipped back inside you, enjoying how your eyelids fluttered at the sense of fullness you were experimenting. The hammering restarted immediately, your hand gripping his shoulders, your nails sinking in. In reply, his strong, veiny palm curled around your outer thigh, pushing your leg up and around his waist.

“Touch yourself. I need you to cum.” He said, making small effort into ordering you, keeping his focus on his ramming.

And you made an even smaller effort into obeying, the hard, filling sensation of him inside you was so satisfying that a few circles on your clit was all it took for your head to crash into his shoulder, suppressing a loud moan by biting into his neck. Still, the bite, the vibrations of your whimpers against his throat, your nails sinking into him and your kegels squeezing him brought him to a mind-blowing orgasm. And he went on, even as you called his name like a litany, a sob interrupting you every now and then as you panted.

He took himself half a minute of stillness. “Can you do another?” He asked, both his hands gripping your ass as he picked you up. “Missionary on the sofa. Just one, I promise.” He said, already walking you to his black leather couch.

You nodded, wordless and brainless, simply hissing when the cold material met your back. “Sorry. I know, cold.” He said, caressing your face. “Ready?” He asked.

Again you nodded, looking at him with a pout. He bent down to kiss your lips. “I love you.” He said.

He said it so often. It was his favourite thing to say, mostly because you would offer him your sweetest smile and your eyes would sparkle with surprise and arousal, just like the first time he had confessed to you. Just like the first time he had bound your wrists on top of your head, kissing all the way down your body, showing you how much adoration his body and his mind could muster.

As he sank into you, you cried out his name tenderly.

“I’ve got you, little dove.” He said, cradling your head in the crook of his arm. “My pretty little bird.” He stroked your cheek with his thumb, drawing the shape of your lips. “I’ll be home, in our bed tonight.” He slipped his thumb into your mouth, wetting it. “I’ll make you so happy, Giggles.” He removed it, bringing it to your clit, delicately rubbing circles into your skin. “It’s all I wanna do.” He pressed his lips restlessly to your mouth and chest, your eyes following his movements in slow motion. You were so far gone you even doubted the sensation between your legs when you felt a new tightness ready to snap.

“Close.” You mouthed somewhere on his chest or neck or shoulder. It felt like slow dancing in a dark room. Except he was inside you and the rocking motion relaxed you so completely that you simply let go, not even listening to him saying to hold on, to make it last a second more, to focus on him.

You simply smiled as pleasure took over, Hoseok himself falling on top of you as his hips lost their pattern and let go of any semblance of control and tempo. His mouth pressed into your nipple as he moaned in release.

You both felt like dead bodies afterwards, laying there empty, spent, completely lost. You could have died without a bother. You could have kept existing without a bother, your bodies resting and waking in an endless cycle, the same way day and night follow each other. You were one thing, one entity, not even one body — any relation to material substance was momentarily suspended.

“Giggles.” He checked in on you. “Baby, we should go home, uh? I don’t have stuff to spoil you here, dove.” He said with a worried note.

Your eyelids fluttered open.

“There she is. Hello, sunshine.” He said, trying to fix your hair. “Let me fix the room before we go, yes?”

You smiled. “Let me help.” You said, only half convinced.

He tutted. “No, sweetie. You lay there and I fix this.” He slipped out of you, standing up slowly, a little clumsily. He immediately went to his desk grabbing his cup of water and sinking a corner of his t-shirt, dabbing at his face and chest, then down at his crotch. Next, he walked towards you, using another wet corner to clean you up. “There.” He said, kissing your knee once he was done. Next he dressed you, manoeuvring your body to slip your clothes on. With a bottle of generic cleanser randomly laying on his drawer, he made sure that no stain remained on the floor where he had eaten you out. Standing in his boxers, he rolled the rope back in a tight coil, placing it back into the bag, together with the flogger, making a mental note to clean it once he arrived home. He didn’t even check what you had packed. He was impatient to shower and cuddle with you at home. Your shared home.

Slipping on his sweater, he looked around, checking for potential hints of what had happened. He shrugged once he saw none. He shut down his computer, checking for the other devices to be off too. Finally, he spritzed some of his cologne on himself and the room. “Okay. We’re good, Giggles. Let’s go.”

You groaned before sitting up and waiting for him to offer you his hand to help you up. “That playlist was pretty bomb.” You said. “We should keep it for our wild nights.”

“I’m using it for my next collab.” He replied, closing down the studio and slipping his shoes on. You did the same at his side. “Maybe you will enjoy my song.” He said, winking at you.

“Oh, hi guys! What are you doing here?” Jimin chirped behind you.

Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Hi. You’re here late.”

“Just passing by.” Jimin said. “Forgot my laptop.” He shook his head. “Hello, Giggles!” He said to you.

It felt ridiculous how all the boys used the nicknames for you and the other girlfriends. Still, it didn’t bother you, since it reminded you of your bond with Hoseok, but also of that familiarity within the group. “Hi Jimin!” You chirped, a little nervous at the possibility of him knowing what had happened in Hoseok’s studio.

“Well, goodnight!” Jimin said sweetly. “I assume you won’t be at the dorms tonight.”

Hoseok tutted. “I’ll be staying with Giggles. She moved in.” He said with a happy tone.

“I’m happy for you. However I hope you won’t be walking out with that tickler hanging out of the bag.” He winked with a teasing remark. “Enjoy it.” He trotted off.

Standing beside Hoseok, you blushed all the way to the tip of your ears.

Hoseok snickered. “Brat.”

Well, he was Princess’ problem now, anyway.

#bts smut #bangtan smut #bts fic #bts scenario #jung hoseok #jhope #hoseok smut #hoseok one shot #hoseok scenario #hoseok x reader #hoseok fan fiction

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samanthadalton · 4 years

Text

Star crossed lovers (au) part 2

pairings: poppy x mc (bea)

warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

reader discretion is advised

(i apologise for any spelling/grammatical mistakes, i’ll fix them later)

taglist: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @rxssians (i’m pretty sure this is my taglist, if you wanna be tagged in future posts just reply or message me 😊)

word count: 6.2k

read part 1 here:

Part 2: First day jitters

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Bea groans and puts her alarm on snooze momentarily silencing the deafening noise. After finding difficulty in falling asleep on time, the brunette found herself feeling zombified this morning. With great difficulty she forces herself to sit up and reaches over to her dresser to check her phone.

A snapchat from Poppy,

a miss call from AJ

And 5 unread texts from Zoey

She opens the snapchat from Poppy who had sent a selfie of her with an adorable bedhead, lips slightly puckered, captioning the picture, ‘good morning babe 💋I love you’. Bea decided to send a selfie back, hands raised in a peace sign captioning her post, ‘I love you too, see you at school ❤️’. She decides to give AJ a quick text since he called her at 4:34am and Bea is worried he might’ve gotten into some trouble overnight.

AJ Baxter, one of the few friends Bea has at Belvoire. He’s younger, a sophomore now, but has a heart of gold. His family is more middle class but his father is good friends with the superintendent which means his place in Belvoire is secured, he could practically get away with anything without risk of suspension. He hangs out with Bea and her friends who live in the south, but recently he’s gotten caught up in a bad crowd, a gang called ‘Southside nation’ who causes nothing but trouble. Bea’s taken it upon herself to look out for him and make sure he doesn’t do anything illegal because he’s a good kid, just a little lost.

She then decided to check her texts from Zoey who just wants to wish her luck at her fancy school and to let her know if any preppy rich kid tries to bully her to call Zoey who would beat their ass. Zoey was one of Bea’s best friends, they had met when Bea moved into her neighbourhood after leaving the northside of Greensburg, and she practically taught Bea how to survive in the south. She often discloses her opinion about Bea and Poppy’s relationship, warning Bea that it will only end up with her getting her heart broken. Bea tends to ignore Zoey’s criticisms, and anyone else’s really, no one could understand their relationship, Bea and Poppy were soulmates, or at least that’s how they saw each other. Bea usually retorts to Zoey’s criticisms arguing that no matter what life threw at them she and Poppy were destined to be together and no one could ever ruin that.

After a few more moments of scrolling through her phone, she forces herself to get up and moves over to the other side of the room to wake up her little sister.

“Hey sleepy head, you gotta get up” Bea gently shakes the younger girl who in response groans loudly and pulls the covers over her head.

“Go awayyyyy” her voice rasps, as she’s evidently still in sleepy mode.

Bea grins and decides to jump on her sister’s bed and shake her awake, earning a hard shove from her Aria who sits up on her bed rubbing her red eyes, “Bea whatthehell, what’s wrong with you”, for a 11 year old she sure as hell had a lot of attitude, a trait she definitely acquired from her mother.

“Sorry kiddo” she leaps off the bed and turns back to look at her sister, “I want you ready for school in 40 minutes, that means you’ve brushed your teeth, brushed your hair, wearing your school clothes and eaten breakfast, all in that order okay?”

Aria just drags her hands down her face and moans, “okayyyy, relax Bea, let me at least fully wake up”.

Bea smiles and stalks towards the bathroom and turns on the tap blasting the cold water. She cups her hand and splashes the water all over her face, gasping as if she had been holding her breath for hours. Well, that definitely woke her up.

After brushing her teeth and going through the steps of her basic skincare routine Poppy practically forced upon her, she advances to the living room and sees that her mother is still in the same place she left her last night. She takes a minute to analyse her mother’s facial features, a few grey hairs peaks out of her hair, threatening to showcase her ageing, her slightly creased forehead, and the small wrinkles which edged on the corners of her eyes. Her nose was similar to Aria’s, a petite buttoned up nose, except she had a silver nose ring. Her lips were thin and wide, red lipstick smeared on her chin a little and all Bea could do was frown. Her mother used to be so beautiful, she remembers the time she stumbled across a photo album in which Bea’s mother had documented almost everything in her life, she used to be so full of life, so happy but now, she was different. She hated her life, ever since her husband left her she resorted to alcohol and drugs, the only way she knew how to numb the pain. It killed Bea to see her mother destroy herself piece by piece, she often questioned to herself why she or Aria were never enough for her to want to live. But Bea would never say anything out loud, not wanting to upset her mother or sister or the more likely answer, she was afraid of the truth.

Bea shakes herself out of her thoughts and moves towards the kitchen which is connected to the living room. She decides to make scrambled eggs for breakfast as she definitely needs the protein and it was pretty easy to cook. A few minutes later, Aria emerges from her bedroom, dressed in her school clothes, Bea begins to assess the girls outfit from head to toe, disproving the slightly cropped t-shirt Aria decided to wear and forcing her to change into something more appropriate for school.

“No, turn around and change your top now,” her tone commanding with a hint of discontent.

“It’s just a t-shirt, why are you making a big deal out of it, god” she retorted as she walks back to the room and moments later she walks into the room wearing an oversized hoodie. “There, happy?”

“I’m practically jumping for joy, A, now hurry up and eat, the bus will be here soon” Bea moves towards the stools while Aria pours herself a bowl of cereal. Behind them they hear a series of moans and groans, guess their mother is finally awake.

“Could you girls make any more noise, goddamn” she clutches her head in agony and begins rubbing the temples of her forehead with her fingertips.

“We’re eating breakfast, maybe if you managed to make it to your bedroom we wouldn’t have woken you up,” Bea quips, turning back to focus on eating her breakfast while her mother just glares at the back of her head and rolls her eyes.

“I’m your mother, don’t be a bitch with me especially when I’ve just woken up” she reaches over to the table and takes a huge swig of the vodka on the table while Bea silently berates herself for forgetting to throw the drink away. “Anyways where were you yesterday, you didn’t leave any money for dinner so I had to pay for a pizza”

“I saw” Bea says unaffected, she’s used to her mom’s bitchiness and attitude.

“Don’t tell me you were with richie rich’, she downs the rest of the drink and slams the empty bottle on the table.

That agitates Bea and grabs her attention, she shifts in her seat to glower at her mother, “Don’t call her that”

“Looks like I hit a sore spot” her mother waves her hands dismissing Bea’s anger, “next time be here for dinner or leave some money because I don’t have enough money to be worrying about feeding that one”, she nods her head towards Aria.

Bea clenches her fist and takes a deep breath, ‘Aria go get your school bag”, Aria’s about to respond when Bea just glares at her expecting her to follow through, Aria reluctantly gets up from her seat leaving her almost empty bowl of cereal on the counter. Bea quickly gets up and stomps towards Isabella, her voice is low and sharp, “Do you have to speak about your daughter like that when she’s around? I don’t give a shit about a $13 pizza, she’s your kid, she comes first no matter how much you despise her, she’s not to blame for your own mistakes”. Without waiting for a response she goes towards the bedroom and finds Aria lurking in the hallway looking dejected.

“She hates me doesn’t she?”

Bea sighs, the relationship between her mother and Aria has always been so strained, her mother viewing Aria more as a burden and a physical embodiment of her biggest mistake in life. One of Bea’s biggest worries was what would happen once she moved to New York for college, she’s the only thing that is keeping the peace in the house but once she leaves she’s apprehensive about how her sister would fare around their mother.

“She could never hate you, you’re her daughter, mom’s just….” she struggles to find the words, “mom’s just sad, she just doesn’t know how to properly control her emotions, but don’t worry you always have me here”, she feels guilty as she says the words because her mind drifts to college and New York but she musters a smile and hugs her sister, “now come on I’ll walk you to the bus stop just let me grab my bag”.

After grabbing her bag, she quickly goes to the kitchen to put the dirty dishes in the sink, making a mental note of remembering to wash them when she gets home from work, since she knew her mother nor Aria would. She looks over to the living room to find the sofa empty and the door of her mother’s room, which was connected to the living room, slightly ajar, guess she’s gone back to doing nothing productive..again.

After walking her sister to the bus stop, Bea insists on waiting with her to make sure she gets to school on time because she cannot afford having the principal call home about Aria being late, not if she wanted to piss her mom off more. Bea leaves Aria as soon as the bus arrives, running back home to get her motorbike after looking at the clock on her phone and realising school begins in 30 minutes, “crap”. As soon as she makes it to her bike, she practically throws on her helmet and drives as rapidly as she can. The motorbike was a present from Poppy who had bought it from one of Bea’s co-workers at the diner at the beginning of the summer. Bea, at first, was apprehensive about the gift, she usually disdained Poppy for spending a lot of money on her but once she got on her new bike it was her second favourite thing in the world, the first being Poppy of course. Poppy secretly loved riding on her bike because it gave her the excuse to feel Bea’s abs (not that she needed one) but also because of the ephemeral ecstasy she would feel at every ride. It was a little taste of the freedom she so badly craved.

The brunette is almost sweating at every red light because it means that she has to drive even faster and she did not want to be late on the first day back. Bea’s plan for senior year is to draw the least amount of attention to herself as she can, and coming late to homeroom is just basically like putting a huge kick me sign on her back.

As soon as she parks her bike in the school’s parking lot she looks down at her phone, ‘7 minutes to spare that must be some new record’ she thinks to herself. She looks around at Belvoire, the school’s pristine building hasn’t gotten any less intimidating over the summer. She hears a bunch of shrill voices booming behind her and one of them in particular was almost like a banshee, the high pitched voice ringing in her ears which could only mean one person, Chloe St James.

Chloe was one of Poppy’s best friends and one of Bea’s worst enemies. She was captain of the volleyball team which meant that she practically owned Bea on the court during practice but she was also incredibly irritating and very stupid. Once in class, her maths teacher asked Chloe what pi is, and she replied with “I don’t eat foods with a high fat content”. Everyone laughed at her until she cut them all off with a silent but deadly look. No one really messes with Chloe because she is secretly a very aggressive person which is exemplified by her plays on the volleyball court, Bea hated to admit it but Chloe was their best player. However, Chloe is the epitome of a classic dumb blonde rich girl who has to depend on her money and looks to get her somewhere in life, she practically has half of the football team worshipping her at her feet. Bea could never really understand why but Chloe has had it out for her since she’s come to Belvoire, maybe it was a classist thing but in the last year especially, Chloe’s antics became an everyday chore for Bea, who was getting sick of the constant harassment. It’s almost as if she swore to make Bea’s life a living hell.

“Omg look who it is”,Bea rolls her eyes so hard they could get stuck in the back of her head, she turns to face the dumb blonde, “hey strip tease, how was your summer in the slums?”

Bea balls her hands into a tight fist, ‘god this bitch is annoying’ she thought. “Is it true you whored yourself out so you could get that bike of yours?... Like mother like daughter I guess?” She giggles a little, triggering the girls around her, whose names Bea could never remember, to start laughing along with her.

“Do you know what Chloe?” Bea takes a step forward a scowl etching on her face, “You’re all talk, I guarantee I’ll be able to take you”, Bea lowers her voice so only the blonde can hear what she’s saying, “You know I grew up in the South which means I was taught how to fight, so unless you want me to mess up that pretty face of yours back off.” Bea thought she was threatening enough for the dumb blonde to recede but her threats only aggravated Chloe more.

“Listen up here you little tramp,” Chloe’s eyes were shooting daggers at Bea, even though she felt a tiny bit daunted by Chloe’s cold demeanor, Bea stood her ground when suddenly she could see Poppy in her peripheral vision sauntering up to the group and decided not to engage with Chloe since she promised Poppy she would be good. Before Chloe could obliterate Bea using her words, Bea holds up her middle finger at the blonde and counters, “go fuck yourself Chloe”.

Chloe’s eyes flash with anger and just as she’s about to retort Poppy lays a hand on her shoulder and greets the girl with a squeal and Chloe delivers a bone crushing hug. Poppy doesn’t bother to spare a glance at Bea which means they’re back in the real world.

After having the entire summer to themselves, riding around Greensburg, going to parties in the south, stealing moments in each other's rooms and going on secret weekend long trips to New York, being two teenagers completely in love, it was now a closed chapter. Now, the girls were in two different worlds, Bea took a quick second to appreciate Poppy’s outfit, she wore the cute pink bomber jacket Bea loved so much and her legs looked so long in her jeans, Poppy wore that specific outfit to catch Bea’s attention, but it was doing a lot more than that. Bea just wanted to reach out and kiss her so bad, the gloss on Poppy’s lips were shining so bright, almost as if she wanted to tease Bea, knowing she could only stare and not touch.

“Come on Chlo, we’re gonna be late,” she drags the blonde away and as she breezes past Bea she spares a quick glance, their eyes locked for a brief moment, Poppy’s gaze softens for a second, her big brown eyes bore into Bea’s in the most tender way. If only the students at Belvoire, were less self absorbent and paid attention to the girls instead of themselves, they would’ve already felt the sexual tension just through the intense stares. After all the eyes are the windows to the soul.

Bea takes a second to breathe, leaning on her bike, she knew today was going to be a long day. After hearing the warning bells she grabs her bag and practically runs the last 50 feet to homeroom and is grateful to see an empty seat at the back of the classroom. She slips in as their homeroom teacher, Mr Jennings quietens the class for the morning announcements, and as all the students direct their attention to the tv in the corner of the room, Poppy’s angelic face brightens up the screen with her adorable smile while she stacks the papers in her hands and turns to look at her co-anchor Carter Jackson.

Carter Jackson, he’s devilishly handsome and the school’s golden boy. Captain of the football team, on track to being the school’s valedictorian, prevailing against the stereotypes of jocks all being dimwits, his resume is impeccable, any college would be lucky to have him. Bea always felt a pang of jealousy whenever she saw Carter within the same breathing space as Poppy since it was obvious he had the biggest crush on her. The whole school is already expecting for them to date since traditionally in movies and books the football captain and head cheerleader always get together. There were already existing rumours that they were secretly dating or they’ve had sex and many others which made Bea envious. Bea was never the jealous type but subconsciously the thoughts of her not being good enough for Poppy would regularly infiltrate her mind. Poppy usually had to subside Bea’s fears whenever she felt like Bea was worried about Carter, promising her that she would never actually be into him but Carter is a gentleman and is practically harmless.

‘Look at this stupid goofy smile and his stupid awesome hair’ Bea clenched her fists so hard her nails were digging into her palms which are definitely going to leave some marks. The announcements went on about the new school year and something about the sports teams and school spirit but Bea’s blood begins to boil when Carter makes a dumb joke earning playful slap on his arm from Poppy. She knows she can trust Poppy around him, it’s just Carter she couldn’t trust. He would always openly flirt with Poppy who would just give a little laugh or change the subject or sometimes indulge in his flirtations, just enough to throw him and the rest of her friends off from the truth.

After the morning announcements Mr Jennings begins talking about the importance of senior year and how the students would have to start thinking about college and their futures. Bea has her whole future planned out with Poppy, get into Columbia, live off campus with her and eventually Poppy would tell her father about them and he will have no other choice but to accept them and if not then Poppy could take out some loans and eventually use the Min Sinclair name to build herself a brand. Bea wants to go into law, first into corporate, so her and Poppy can work together, so when Poppy takes over her father’s duties as the official CEO of the Min Sinclair industries, Bea would work the legal angle until she’s made a name for herself. If Poppy’s father wouldn’t pass the companies down to Poppy then she’ll go straight to being a general practice lawyer. Then she’ll open her own law firm to help those in need, money won’t be an issue for clients as she just wants to help people who are suffering from legal trouble but have no sufficient funds, because if we are being honest, the public defence system in America is a joke.

Once the bell went off Bea checked her timetable to see AP science class first thing in the morning. ‘Kill me now’, she heeded she loved science but on a monday morning? It was a different kind of torture. She walks into the class to see all the students glaring at the projected screen and sees that a seating plan has been put into place for them. Miss Acker, is one of the strictest teachers at Belvoire, she’s a straight to the point no BS kind of teacher who would never let students walk all over her so the students in the AP class knew better than to challenge the seating plan. Bea looked for her name to see her being placed at the back corner of the class and her seating buddy is, no way… It’s Poppy. Bea felt a sliver of enlightenment fill her chest, an entire year of sitting next to Poppy and no one would say anything because they had no choice but to be next to each other.

As Bea makes her way to the back she sees Poppy stride into the class, she gives Bea a quick wink, so quick that you would’ve missed it within a blink of an eye as she promptly took a seat in a random seat near the front of the class, her focus is on taking out her books from her bags until a stern tone catches her attention.

“Miss Min Sinclair, if you bothered to look at the screen you would see there’s a seating plan, you’re supposed to sit with Miss Hughes at the back”, Miss Acker raises an eyebrow waiting for Poppy to oblige.

“I-”, Poppy’s face flushes red, either from the embarrassment of being called out or the thought of sitting next to Bea all year, it wasn’t clear. She picks up her notebook and bag and as she’s walking to the back of the class a hand reaches out to touch her elbow.

“Good luck sitting next to the freak all year” Carter’s voice smooth and his tone jesting at Poppy.

“Uh, thanks,” Poppy lets out an awkward laugh and sits at the back daring not to look at Bea as the lesson begins.

“So, looks like we’re science buddies,” Bea leans over and whispers as Miss Ackers goes over the rules of the lab.

“Not here Bea, please,” Poppy almost pleads as her attention is fixated at the front of the classroom.

Bea huffs a little, “well we do have to work together Pops, you can’t exactly avoid me since we go to the same school and everything”.

Poppy doesn’t answer Bea, as the class continues. As Miss Acker addresses the class, Poppy’s attention shifts to the notebook in front of her, doodling across the blank page. She draws a little bumblebee and a heart around it and nudges Bea slightly with her elbow, directing her focus to her drawing. A small smile graces Bea’s face as she runs a finger around the heart and the bee on Poppy’s notebook.

Bees were part of an inside joke between the two girls, Poppy used to call Bea her ‘little bumblebee’ when they were 14 and although Bea pretended to hate the nickname she found it a little sweet and gave Poppy the nickname ‘Popsicle’.

The lesson carries on in full silence between the girls as they begin to concentrate at the lesson at hand, and when the lesson ended Poppy quickly packs up her things, grabs her bag and leaves the class with Carter and a few other girls in tow. Bea sighs and places her hands in her jacket pocket suddenly hearing the rustling of a piece of paper. She brings it out and sees a little folded note, and when she unfolds it, she sees a cartoon drawing of two girls kissing and the words ‘I love you’ written underneath it. She has no idea when Poppy even put the note in her pocket but she’s grateful she did. It was the little things like that that made Bea smile, and reminds her why she loves Poppy so much. To the rest of the school, it seems like the girls don’t even care about each other but Poppy’s a secret romantic at heart and usually leaves little tidbits around Bea as a reminder of her love.

She pockets the note and goes to her next class with a little more pep in her steps. Lunchtime soon rolls over and Bea sits on one of the tables alone enjoying her sandwich. A few tables over, Poppy and her friends are laughing and sharing stories about their summer. One of the girls who’s sitting next to Poppy, catches Bea staring their way and gives a little wave.

“Veronica who are you waving at?” Chloe’s voice blares and she turns her head looking around the lunch hall to see who’s gotten her attention now.

Veronica Lombardi, Poppy’s other best friend and one of the very few people who actually treats Bea like a decent human being. She is one of the prettiest girls in school, excluding Poppy, and last year she made the decision to dye her hair a really cool greyish ombre which makes her look ever hotter. She’s also on the cheer team, and is also a vlogger and has over 30k subscribers on her growing youtube channel. Veronica’s family moved to Greensburg when she was 12, and she became quick friends with Poppy after being introduced at a work dinner since Veronica’s dad is one of the COOs for one of Poppy dad’s companies. Veronica also grew up with a lot of money and privilege but it never once deterred her from making friends from all sorts of places. She’s also the only one of Poppy’s friends who knows the truth about her and Bea’s relationship after accidentally walking into one of their make out sessions in the locker room last year during cheer and volleyball practice. She was super understanding and completely supportive of the relationship and often joins the girls when they would go to parties in the southside, arguing that they were tons more fun than the regular highschool parties her peers hosted. She loves to tease Poppy about Bea and insinuate that Poppy may or may not be in a secret relationship which would make their friendship group ask Poppy all kinds of questions about her ‘secret boyfriend’.

“I’m just waving at Bea” that earns a hard eye roll from Chloe who just shifts her focus on her salad. “Is it me or has she gotten hotter over the summer?” she nudges Poppy with her elbow giving her a playful smile. Poppy’s jaw tightens as she stealthily kicks Veronica’s shin under the table.

The rest of the people on the table have disgusted looks on their faces at the mention of Bea until Ford, one of the boys on the football team and a perfect example of classic dumb jock says, “I heard she got chylamidia or something because her mom pimps her out to get money or drugs”.

Poppy takes a stab at her salad and gulps uneasily, “Can we talk about something less disgusting you’re making me lose my appetite.”

Another girl, Tasha, who surprise surprise is also a cheerleader chimes in, “Like you ever have an appetite Poppy” the table bursts in laughter while Chloe sits in silence lost in thought.

“What the hell are you plotting Chlo? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you think so much” Veronica laughs.

A devilish smile appears on Chloe’s face, “I have a little surprise for that little tramp at the end of lunch, I’m just thinking about how hilarious it’s going to be”, the rest of the table reciprocate a similar smile on their faces except for Poppy and Veronica who just lock eyes confused at Chloe’s revelation.

Poppy clears her throat, “so, uh, what are you planning?” Her tone is steady attempting to keep it as monotone as she can so no one suspects she cares.

“Lets just say she’s gonna get the stripper treatment real soon” and with that the conversation swiftly changes.

All the while an unsuspecting Bea sits at her table, after acknowledging Veronica’s wave with a swift nod of her head, Bea silently eats her lunch until she’s interrupted by two scrawny hands clamping onto her shoulders.

“Dammit AJ you’re gonna give me a heart attack”, Bea sputters while her mouth is full of food. The young boy breaks into a wide grin and sits opposite Bea and swipes the cookie off Bea’s tray, “Hey no!” Bea grabs the cookie before he can shove it into his mouth, “not my cookie, I need my sugar”.

AJ sulks a little, giving Bea a strong puppy dog look until she gives in and breaks her cookie in half giving him the larger piece. “Thanks Bea, I’m starving and all the good food has already run out, they’re just handing out apples for dessert” he sticks out his tongue making a ‘blergh’ sound and shudders.

Bea doesn’t laugh, instead she stares intensely at the sophomore with a small frown outlined on her lips’, she leans in her voice low and serious, ‘AJ I want you to tell me the truth, where were you yesterday and why did you call me so late?”

AJ gulps and places one of his hands on the back of his head and rubs it sheepishly, “I wasn’t doing anything bad I swear, it’s just that dad came home late last night and started fighting with my mom, it woke me up and I guess I just needed someone to talk to. I’m sorry i should’ve texted you back or something.”

“Yeah you should’ve, AJ I was worried sick, you can’t pull that kinda crap on me okay? If you can’t reach me at least text me or leave a voice message or something.”

The boy nods but Bea isn’t entirely convinced he’s telling the truth but she decides to let it go since AJ is usually not someone who likes to dwell on the bad stuff. The conversation moves to a lighter one as the two reminisce about the summer and the parties they went to and how they were looking forward to the party on saturday.

“I heard Razor’s getting a bunch of fireworks for the party, it’s gonna be so lit”, AJ is almost jumping out of his seat while Bea looks stunned.

“Fireworks, really? Poppy would love that, I gotta remember to invite her.”

AJ rolls his eyes slightly not that he had anything against Poppy, he adores her, he just hates the lovey dovey crap, “yes, yes she’ll love it,” he looks down at his phone and abruptly stands from his seat, and tells Bea he needs to fill up his water bottle but before Bea can even open her mouth, AJ moves out of her line of sight and sprints out of the dining hall. ‘Well he’s most definitely lying’ she thinks but she doesn’t want to press the matter in case AJ closes off on her, she trusts that he wouldn’t do anything too stupid. She begins to clean up after herself and throws her rubbish into the trash can and walks towards the courtyard. Just as she’s leaving, Chloe, Carter, Ford, Tasha and a few of the others on the table share a conspiratorial look before standing up and going after Bea.

Poppy pulls Veronica to the side, her face filled with worry, “What the hell are they planning?”

Veronica simply shrugs in response, her face looking exasperated, “I don’t know P but it’s not gonna be good”, she grabs Poppy’s elbow and pulls her towards the doors, “let’s catch up before something bad happens”.

Bea peacefully walks in the courtyard, one of her hands inside her jacket pocket fiddling with the note Poppy left for her, a small smile gracing her features. Behind her, she hears a loud cough and stops in her tracks, she automatically knew it was Chloe, she softly sighs and turns to see a group of Poppy’s friends encircling her. Her face twitches into a scorn as she uneasily looks around to see the preppy kids staring back at her, all greeting her with a smile which unsettled her.

“What the hell do you and your stupid cult want Chloe?” She tries to look unbothered but her fingers deceive her, as they fiddle with the straps of her backpack. Behind the group she sees Poppy and Veronica almost running and stopping in their tracks when they see the group surrounding Bea.

“We all want a show,” Chloe spreads out her arms smiling, god her smug face is so punchable. She walks towards Bea until she’s standing directly in front of her, “well strip tease? I got a paying audience here, why don’t you show us what you mom taught you?”

Bea shoves Chloe back, and Tasha steps forward and suddenly moves her hands so quick Bea for sure thinks she’s going to be punched. Instead she brings out a bunch of one dollar bills? ‘Oh shit’ is all Bea could think before the group began throwing one dollar bills at the brunette, drawing the attention of all the students in the courtyard. Some took out their phones to record the ordeal while some started cheering and whistling.

“Come onnnn, don’t be such a tease Bea, show us something” Tasha forces Bea back into the middle of the circle as Bea struggles to leave.

All the colour drains from Bea’s face as she takes in the faces of the laughing students all publicly humiliating her, it makes her so mad, especially at her mother, who’s at fault for the nickname ‘strip tease’. Bea looks over at Poppy who is frozen in her spot, her face falls when suddenly Veronica pushes herself into the circle and grabs Chloe by the arm, “End this now Chloe, it’s not funny,” Veronica’s eyes are filled with fury, Bea’s heart slightly drops because she secretly hoped that it was Poppy standing up for her.

“Chillax V, Bea’s used to people throwing their money at her,” she laughs and bends down to pick up some fallen one dollar bills from the floor and throws it in the air. Carter moves towards Bea and places a folder one dollar bill in the loop of her jeans and winks at her and just when Bea pulls her hand back to deliver a blow, a sharp whistle sound infiltrates the ears of all the students who begin clasping at their ears.

“What the hell is going on here!” the voice bellows over the entire courtyard.

“Principal Steinhelm, I-” Chloe struggles to speak.

Principal Steinhelm quickly assesses the situation, seeing Bea’s hands balled into fists and on the verge of tears, with one dollar bills thrown all around her while the rest of the students are surrounding her, some still holding money in their hands. She raises a hand and points at the crowd encircling all the guilty students and simply says, “All of you detention, if any of you do not show up today, there will be consequences. Get to class. Now”. All the students begin to disperse, Veronica places a hand on Bea’s arm and comfortingly rubs it for a few seconds before she walks towards Poppy who is still staring at Bea, her eyes filled with sadness, she looks away and trudges off with Veronica and the rest of her friends who are laughing cruelly in tow. Principle Steinhelm advances towards Bea, eyes filled with concern, “Miss Hughes would you like me to call your mother?”

Bea shakes her head no, her voice dissipated, scared that if she tries to speak, she’ll just burst into tears. Principle Steinhelm gives Bea an awkward pat on her shoulder before telling her to make her way to class as the bell rings. For the rest of the day, students around Bea were staring at her, sharing whispers and covertly laughing at the brunette, so much for not wanting to draw any attention today. Her phone buzzes with texts from Poppy but Bea puts her phone on silent not wanting to think about everything that just happened at school.

Once the school day is over, Bea runs over to the parking lot and speeds off to work, not waiting to give Chloe a third chance to annoy her today. Poppy sees the girl rushing to leave and feels a pang in her chest. It kills her to see her girlfriend being mistreated but she couldn’t do anything to help her. Right?

read part 3 here:

#playchoices #queen b #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc

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whereismymindnow · 3 years

Text

Shark (Troy Otto x OC)

I’ve really enjoyed rewatching FTWD lately, particularly S3 since Troy was such an interesting character that had so many complicated layers and I thought his relationship with Nick could have been explored so much more.

Anyway, this may not go anywhere, but here’s a one-shot or chapter one of a short fic for anyone that may be interested. I've not posted any fanfiction on Tumblr before so I'm fully prepared for it to flop haha! I do post on AO3 under the name Mikki19. :)

Song inspiration for the story: Plastic Heart by Ciscandra Nostalghia

This fic (if I expand on it on here) will have many dark elements due to Troy's mindset. Consider that your warning.

---

This wasn’t how it was meant to happen.

All of this trouble over some half-rotten fucking apples.

She’d been minding her own business, her hunger leading her to not take full account of her surroundings as she came across the nearly dead fruit tree. Flies buzzed around the apples that had dropped to the floor long ago, but she noticed 3 overly ripened orbs clinging for life on one of the higher branches. Given how she’d been unable to forage much lately, she was willing to try and take whatever bits of the apples were left.

Her nearly empty bag dropped to the ground as she carefully put one foot in a groove of the tree and hoisted herself up. Her vision was blurry and her head ached, but getting the browning fruits above remained her goal. With shaky limbs she scaled the tree until she could stretch up and touch the apples with her fingertips. She let out a groan of pain as she gave one last stretch and grabbed the branch that held her prize; a small shake had the little round globes dropping to the ground with a squelch making her grimace. Beggars can’t be choosers, she reminded herself.

She hadn’t been expecting to hear the rumble of an engine or the large soldiers that slowly sauntered out of the truck. She’d frozen like a cat being caught climbing something they shouldn’t have as one stepped forward. His brown curls and bright eyes gave the impression of innocence, but the shadow of calculation overcoming his face made her realise how fucked she was.

Harper unsteadily slid down the tree and noticed how her bag – that had very little inside it apart from an empty bottle, a Swiss Army knife, a torn and distressed picture of her brother, and the collar of her dog that had defended her until the end – was closer to the man than to her. With a sharklike smile he picked up the bag and threw it behind him for one of his friends to rifle through and cocked his head to the side in wonder as to what her next move would be.

She heard him laugh as she dived behind the tree and ran as fast as she could to the building nearby. A loud scream left her as a corpse immediately launched itself at her as she burst through the door; its teeth were so close to her that she could feel a few strands of hair be ripped from her scalp as it snapped its jaws. She kept an arm pushing across its chest as she frantically ripped her pocketknife from her boot, flipped it open and sent the blade through the walker’s skull. The body dropped to the filthy floor, sending a cloud of grey dust into the air that made her choke. Harper turned her head and saw the soldier slowly making his way to the building she’d just entered.

So, here she was. Trapped like a mouse as the cat prowled around looking for its next meal. She slowed her breathing as much as she could and huddled under the abandoned desk; her hand held a strong grip on the knife but she could already feel her body shaking in exhaustion. She hadn’t eaten properly or slept more than a few hours for days since her camp got overrun by a hoard of the dead. She wasn’t ready for a fight. She knew that this was only going to go one way judging by the firepower that these men had and how clean and well-fed they looked. With any luck she could lose or injure the guy in the building and run out through a back exit.

“You know, I don’t want to hurt you. People always look at me like a monster, but I’m not. If you come out, there doesn’t have to be a struggle.” Harper could hear him in the corridor outside of the abandoned office she’d dived into. The way he sounded so chilled, almost bored or uninterested, made her want to deliver a swift kick to his smug face.

She’d always been a fighter. When the kid in 9th grade pushed her to the floor and laughed, she’d got up just as quick and head-butted him without a thought. When Sophia had looked at her brown curls with a sneer, she’d quickly pulled on the blonde locks until the girl begged for mercy. Of course, her spitfire nature came with consequences. She’d found that out pretty quick when her father started to use a firmer, more brutal hand in order to get her to comply, and her mother had pulled her out of school and begun to slip light sedatives in her food. They were afraid of her, she knew that. They were afraid she’d inherited that rage that had sent her grandmother into a mental hospital at the age of 39 until she died in a medication induced coma at 46. It wasn’t until her brother died when she was 18 that things began to change. Her fire had been reduced to nothing and she walked around the house like one of the dead even before they’d started to rise. Malachi had been her rock. He’d been the only one to believe in her and used that anger that burned within her belly to train her how to wrestle. She soon grew hungry for the sport and had aspired to join the independent wrestling scene as soon as she could break away from her parents. Malachi’s death had changed all of that though. The once bright-eyed girl had been reduced to a withered husk. The fire within had been extinguished and the thought of fighting made her feel nauseous. Her parents had been quite relieved; they’d have rather have her broken than be the monster they were sure she’d have turned into. From then on she’d been a shadow of her former self; she spent most of her days sleeping or pretending to listen to her mother prattle on about one thing or another whilst her father went to work.

She could feel that familiar ache in her chest. She wanted to get up and fight, but her legs felt like jelly and her head was about ready to explode. So, she waited. Her eyes clenched shut as the door to the office slowly closed. She heard the thud of a gun being put on the table near the door and the heavy footsteps of army boots make their way across the room.

“I know you’re under there.” A squeak left her mouth as two large hands slammed down on top of the desk. “Won’t you come out? You don’t even know what I have to offer to you. Those apples you were so desperately reaching for? I can give you a whole basket full… if you just come out.” He made it sound so goddamn easy and simple. “I said: come out!” The sudden anger in his voice made her gulp and slowly stand. Her green eyes met his; despite the anger that had been in his voice, his face was blank as he drank the sight of her in.

Her cropped top was torn and covered in blood, her shorts were dirty and her boots were worn. She was clinging to life by a thread and they both knew it. Her 5’7” stature was dwarfed by his large 6’1” body. He could tell she had been quite fit and muscular before all of this, but poor nutrition had left her looking withered and underdeveloped. He could easily see her ribs and hipbones from where she stood. She was completely filthy and he noted bruises and scratches on her legs from where she had been running wild for who knows how long. It was her eyes that got him the most; he’d seen those eyes before, he saw that same determination and anger every time he looked at his own reflection. She didn’t want to give up, but she was so tired. Her body wobbled in place and she sucked her chapped bottom lip between her teeth in an attempt to keep the sob that was building at bay.

“Come here.” When she made no effort to move Troy quickly reached forwards, grabbed her by the neck and lifted her over the desk so that she was in front of him. He laughed as his free hand quickly caught her wrist as she sluggishly tried to get him with her knife. “Drop it.” Troy murmured softly.

“No.” Her voice cracked from lack of use. “No.” A heavy sigh left his mouth before he tightened his grip until he could feel her ligaments and bones creak under his grasp. “Agh!” Her other hand came to claw at his fingers desperately as she felt like her wrist would break.

“Drop. It.” He hissed with no intention of loosening his hold until she complied like a good girl. The knife fell with a clatter as she swallowed down her pride and submitted. Immediately his once vicelike grip turned into a soft hold and he allowed his thumb to carefully rub the already bruising skin. “Do you see what you made me do?” He spoke like he was talking to a child. “I’m not a bad person. You just need to listen to me.” Troy watched as her face crumpled and she stared at her feet. He was so used to looking at people like an experiment that he was shocked to find his mind wasn’t trying to work out how long it would take this weakened girl to turn. He looked at her in wonder instead. He could tell that she was broken inside. It was easy to see as the swell of defiance was in her gaze but it was overpowered by the lost look. She needed someone to lead her. She needed direction… purpose… He’d give it to her. He could see her at the ranch with him. She’d be in the living area waiting for him to return from a hunt with a smile on her face and no shoes on her feet. She wouldn’t need shoes; shoes were only necessary for people going outside. He was all she would need. She would be his.

Harper carefully looked up at the soldier and blinked as she saw the concentration in them. “Who are you?”

“My name is Troy. Yours?”

“H-Harper.”

“Where are you from?”

“England… originally. We moved to the States after my brother died… too many memories at home.”

“How’d your brother die? Was he sick?” His head snapped to the side as her hand came up and connected with his cheek. Harper was breathless from the exertion but the carelessness in which he talked about her brother made her blood boil. Malachi was a subject not meant to be touched. “Hm… wrong move.” Troy’s grip tightened once again on her wrist as he spun her around, pushed her front onto the desk and pulled her limb until an aching pain grew in her shoulder from the angle. He used his own body to hover over her so that she couldn’t straighten up. “Apologise.” He wedged his legs between hers as she started to flail and kick out in order to avoid the low blow that she was aiming to deliver; his hips stayed firm against the back of her thighs despite the movements she was making. A deep groan left his mouth as her actions awakened the primal urge within him that told him to claim her. Harper suddenly stilled as she felt a heavy, hard length begin to grow against her ass. “Apologise.” He simply repeated, suddenly breathless as his body buzzed from the stimulation. He wasn’t used to this reaction. Sure, he could see pretty girls from those that would probably be a last pick, but he’d never felt this need to claim before. He’d had sex before, meaningless and ultimately disappointing sex with girls that had wanted to get closer to his perfect brother or had wanted a better standing within the ranch and chosen the somewhat vulnerable youngest Otto to try and make that happen, but this felt like more than just an urge to find his way into the warmth between her legs. This felt like something he needed; like the blood in his veins and the air that he breathed. She felt like a piece of the puzzle that would fit perfectly into place and make him feel that little bit more whole.

Harper could feel his hot breath shakily release against the back of her head and shuddered. “I- I am sorry.” She whispered gently in an attempt to appease the unpredictable man behind her. She felt him slowly release her wrist but he made no motion to move away from her. Her back tensed as his hands slowly went to her sides and gripped her hips. He stayed still for a moment, almost as though he was using his hold on her body to ground himself, before stepping back with a low chuckle.

“Good girl. You’re learning already.” Troy leant down and grabbed her knife, a knowing look in his eye as he pocketed it for himself before pulling something else out of his jacket. A thin strip of plastic was in his grasp. “Put your wrists out and together.” Harper exhaled as she looked at the cable tie. Exhaustion was defeating her and he’d taken what little energy she had left. Her body was propped up by the table behind her and she knew if she stepped away then her legs were likely to collapse.

“Where are you going to take me?” She asked softly understanding that she had no way out of this in her current state.

“Back to base. It’s safe there.” Troy stated proudly as though he was saving her and not taking her against her will. “Do you understand? I’m going to keep you safe. I’ll feed you and get you clean so I can see exactly what is under all of this filth.” Harper’s mouth watered at the thought of food and a shower. Her basic human needs screamed at her to obey as she shakily held out her hands to him. He carefully looped the plastic around her wrists and tightened it until she winced; only stopping when her eyes looked into his pleading for some form of mercy. “Are you thankful?” Harper gave a shaky nod under his intense stare that seemed to strip her naked and glare into her soul. “Use your words.”

Harper swallowed down her bile as he raised his brow expectantly. “Yes… thank you, Troy.” His grin was the last thing she saw before her body finally gave up and she dropped to the cold ground unconscious.

---

You look for me Inside the dark I am the ocean You are the shark You hunt me like Your last goodbye Oh fallen angel Of the night

---Plastic Heart by Ciscandra Nostalghia---

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfiction #troyotto #troy otto #ocs #original female character #troy otto x oc #fear the walking dead #ftwd

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rpf-bat · 4 years

Text

Have You Heard The News That You’re Dead?

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Drama, Horror

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 23. Prompt: “Afterlife”.

You’re a cancer patient. You’ve travelled to Hawaii, for an operation, that you hope will save your life. But, while you’re in the hospital, your nurse tells you the story of the Night Marchers. Legend has it, that anyone who sees their parade, will die. When you begin hearing phantom marching-band sounds at night, you start to wonder if the legend could be true.

It had been a year now, since you were first diagnosed with stage three leukemia. Chemotherapy alone had not slowed the disease down. So, you had travelled to a hospital in Honolulu, for a transplant procedure, that you hoped would save your life. You’d been receiving radiation conditioning for a week now, to prepare your body, to receive the donor’s stem cells.

Today, your favorite nurse was on duty. Her name was Leilani.

“Aloha, Miss Y/N,” Leilani smiled, as she entered the hospital room, to bring you your daily dose of busulfan. “How are you feeling today?”

“Tired,” you said sleepily. “The drums kept me awake last night.”

“Drums?” Leilani repeated curiously.

“Yeah, I could hear music, outside my window, all night,” you explained. “Was there a concert, or a luau, going on in town, or something?”

“Maybe the sound that you heard was the Night Marchers,” Leilani said mysteriously.

“What are the Night Marchers?” you asked, eyes wide.

“Oh, it’s an old Kanaka Maoli legend,” Leilani chuckled. “There were these warriors, who served the chief, in ancient times. They say that after sunset, they rise from their graves, and march through the streets, towards the site of the battle they once fought.”

“Ghost warriors?” you blinked. “Now, that would be interesting to see.”

“Oh, no, Miss Y/N,” Leilani shook her head. “You do not want to see them. Legend says, that anyone who watches the Night Marchers, parading through town, will die.”

“I...I would die?” you gulped. Just for looking at a ghost?

“That’s how the story goes, anyway,” Leilani shrugged. “They say the only way to survive an encounter with the Marchers, is to lay down on the ground, and avert your eyes. But, it’s only a folktale, so don’t worry about it. Give me your hand, and take this pill, okay?”

“....Okay,” you frowned. Something about this folktale, made you very nervous.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

That night, you tried your best to fall asleep. You knew you needed your rest, but the hospital bed was so uncomfortable. What was worse, your illness had left you in severe pain. Leilani had gone home for the night, and you didn’t feel like calling the other nurse, for a dose of painkillers. You tossed and turned, trying to just be still.

Then, you heard the sound again, in the distance. A drumbeat, outside your window.

Could it really be a parade of ghosts? you wondered, staring up at the ceiling. No way - it’s probably just some street performer.

The bed creaked, as you turned away from the window. The drums grew louder, and, if you were not mistaken, you could hear trumpets joining them. Seriously - what the hell was that?

Your curiosity overwhelmed you, and you gingerly stood up from the bed. You padded over to the window, and peered through the blinds. You gasped at what you saw.

It really was a parade. But, these were no grass-skirted warriors. They looked like a high school marching band. From the second story window, you could just barely make out their black and silver jackets. The leader, in front, had short-cropped white hair. You were too high up, to see his facial features. Who the hell was he?

You watched, fascinated, as the band marched past a stop sign. Your blood froze, as the parade leader phased, intangibly, right through the sign post.

“A...a ghost?!” you gasped. Were these really the Night Marchers, after all?

A wave of dizziness suddenly hit you, and you felt faint. Your vision faded to black.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You woke up the next morning, in your hospital bed. Leilani was standing at your bedside, adjusting your IV bag.

“Leilani!” you gasped. “I saw them last night!”

“Saw who?” Leilani frowned.

“The Night Marchers!” you shuddered. “They’re real!”

“You must have had a bad dream, Miss Y/N,” Leilani shook her head. “I’m sorry that my stories frightened you.”

“B-but…,” you protested.

“Ssh,” Leilani interrupted. “You have bigger things to concern yourself with, right, Miss Y/N? Your transplant surgery is today.”

“That’s right,” you realized. Today, you would finally be infused with the bone marrow, that would hopefully send your cancer into remission. You were lucky that a donor had been found for you. You knew that many people succumbed to the disease, without ever making it to the top of the waitlist.

“The doctors here at Hawaii Cancer Care are very skilled, Miss Y/N,” Leilani assured you. “I’ve watched their surgeries save many lives.”

“You think that the surgery will be successful?” you gulped. The truth was, that you were still nervous.

“I’m sure of it,” Leilani said positively. “You have nothing to worry about.”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

That night, after the surgery, you once again found yourself struggling to sleep. Your time in the hospital was not yet at its end. The doctors needed to observe you, a little longer, to make sure the procedure had done what they hoped. And your body, of course, still ached.

Suddenly, you heard a noise. This time, it was not coming from outside your window. The music sounded like it was emanating from the hallway, outside your door. But, the military-ish drumbeat was unmistakable. It was the ghostly marching band again.

You stood up, leaning on your IV pole for support. You felt unsteady on your feet. You knew it was unwise, to be moving around, so soon after your procedure. But, you couldn’t shake the compulsion to look.

You shuffled over to the edge of the room, and hesitantly opened the door. You poked your head out, and that was when you saw them.

A whole parade of specters was marching through the hospital corridor! There were phantoms in masks, at the back. But, the five men at the front, caught your attention. Their faces were uncovered, and they were playing instruments, as they stepped forward in time.

The one in front, with the pale, white hair, clearly seemed to be the leader. He raised his baton in the air. The phantoms followed him.

Was this real? you wondered, shaking. Or, were you dreaming?

Your IV pole rolled away from you, as you accidentally released it from your grip. The wheels made a skittering sound, on the linoleum floor.

The marching band leader’s head snapped up, and he turned around, seeking the direction of the sound.

You dropped to the floor, remembering Leilani’s warning: “They say the only way to survive an encounter with the Marchers, is to lay down on the ground, and avert your eyes.”

You trembled with fear, as you covered your eyes with your hands.

Don’t see me, you pleaded, heart pounding, as you lay as still as possible in the doorway. Don’t see me…..please don’t see me…..

“Miss Y/N!” gasped a familiar voice. “What are you doing out of bed?”

You opened your eyes. The parade of ghosts was gone. There was only Leilani, looking down at you with a concerned expression.

Am I going crazy? you wondered, eyes wide. Did I hallucinate that whole thing?

This didn’t seem possible. The blonde man’s piercing gaze had felt all too real.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You opened your eyes, hours later, and saw someone standing at the foot of your hospital bed. It wasn’t Leilani. It wasn’t any of your nurses. It was the blonde man, who had appeared to you in the night.

You screamed.

“It’s alright, Y/N,” the man whispered.

“H-how do you know my name?” you gasped. “Who are you?!”

“I’m Gerard,” the man introduced himself.

“I mean, what are you?” you demanded. “Are you a Night Marcher?”

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I am the captain of the Black Parade.”

“What do you want with me?!” you asked, shaking.

“We’ve come to guide you to the afterlife,” Gerard explained.

“What?” your eyes widened. “You’re saying….I’m dying?”

“Yes,” Gerard nodded. “I’m afraid that you’re fated to die of a stroke tonight.”

“There’s no way that I’m going to have a stroke!” you denied.

“I’m afraid that you’re already having one right now, in your sleep,” Gerard revealed.

“No!” you cried. “If this is a dream, then, I have to wake up right now!”

“You won’t,” Gerard said calmly. “It is your time.”

“But...that doesn’t make any sense!” you argued. “I just had a bone marrow transplant! It’s supposed to cure my cancer!”

“You’ve developed what’s called graft versus host disease,” Gerard explained. “The donor’s cells see your body’s tissues as something foreign. They’re attacking them.”

“So…..you’re some sort of Grim Reaper?” you realized. “Where’s your scythe? Aren’t you supposed to look like a skeleton?”

“I took this form, in hopes that I would not frighten you, Y/N,” Gerard explained. “Do you not find it comely?”

The truth was, you found the phantom’s appearance, extremely handsome. You could see his strong-looking arms beneath his black jacket. Above the jacket’s high collar, he had a beautiful, almost angelic-looking face.

But, he’s an angel of death, you reminded yourself grimly. You wanted to cry.

“I...I can’t die yet,” you stammered, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m still so young. There’s so many things I haven’t done yet. I’ve never even fallen in love.”

“A surprise, and a tragedy,” Gerard said softly, gently stroking your cheek with this thumb, and wiping away your tears. “For such a beautiful woman.”

“You...you think I’m beautiful?” you sniffled.

“I do,” Gerard confessed. “I’m sorry, that the powers that be, have given you such a short time on this earth. It is not for me to decide. My job is simply to walk with you, to your destination.”

“You mean, the afterlife,” you guessed.

“Yes.”

“What’s going to happen?” you wondered, feeling scared. “Are you just going to drop me off in some limbo, a-and leave me there?”

“No,” Gerard promised, wrapping you in a comforting embrace. “Y/N, I will stay by your side, as long as you need me.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” you sobbed. You found yourself clinging to the specter, holding onto him tightly and sobbing into his chest.

He stroked your hair gently. “Sssh,” he consoled you. “It’s alright. You’re not alone. My marching band is waiting for you, just outside this room. We’ll all walk with you, to the Other Side. You will have as many friends there, as you wish.”

“You want to be my friend?” you asked, staring up at him, with wide eyes.

“I want a great many things from you, Y/N,” Gerard confessed. Suddenly, he grabbed the collar of your hospital gown, and pulled you into a kiss. His lips were warm, and soft, like a living person’s. There was no coldness of the grave, in his touch.

You kissed him back, soothed that, at least, someone was by your side, until the very end.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

The heart monitors screamed, as Leilani ran into the room. The flatline on the screen, told her that her favorite patient was gone. Tears welled up in her eyes, as she stared down, at the woman’s terribly still form.

“A-Aloha, Miss Y/N,” Leilani sobbed. A word that could mean both hello, and goodbye.

There was one small comfort, as she pulled the sheet over Y/N’s head. Her final expression was a smile of bliss, as if she’d just received a pleasant surprise.

#gerard way imagine #gerard way x reader #gothtober #it's very fitting that I posted this on the 14th anniversary of Black Parade being released #if you enjoyed today's story - please consider donating to Be The Match #they're a very cool charity that helps leukemia patients find bone marrow donors

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tuffduff · 4 years

Text

The First Meeting (Duff McKagan x Reader)

Pairing: Late 20′s!Reader x Older!Duff McKagan

Words: 1,951 (oops)

Request: @julessworldd : You don’t see enough of older!duff on here. I was wondering if you could do something where the reader is like 28-29 and Duff brings her home to meet his daughters. After dating for a while. Maybe the girls are sorta rude bc she’s still in here 20s and is the first girl he’s been with since him and Susan got a divorce.(I love their relationship so much 🥺). Thank you love 💗

A/N: Thank you for requesting babe!!! Kinda struggled with this one, don’t know how I feel about it, despite the length lol. Also, can I just say as a bi girl in her early twenties how wild it is that Duff’s daughters are also so fucking gorgeous and talented? Jeez. Anyways, listen to The Pink Slips if y’all haven’t, all my love to you guys!

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker

You should’ve worn the pants and blouse instead of the dress you were cooped in. Or better yet, leggings. You kept smoothing your dress down, trying to judge the distance from the hem of it to your knees. Were you going to look like you were trying too hard? Either way, you knew how was it was going to look regardless of what you wore, but maybe if you dressed more modestly...

Duff’s hand grabbing yours pulled you out of your dread. He took his eyes off the road for a second and smiled.

“Why are you worried? What is it?” You fixed your gaze straight ahead to the lines painted on the road. He always seemed to just know what you were feeling, just by looking. You would have guessed maybe you were just an open book, but no, it was only Duff that always knew. Ever since the beginning.

“Maybe we should wait a little longer.” You blurted out with no buffer, no warm-up, no nonsense. Even your voice was unsteady. Duff’s grip on your hand tightened.

“Y/N, we’ve been dating for over a year now.”

“And we could break up tomorrow.” You reasoned lightly, making Duff laugh.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” He bantered back, still a relaxed smile on his face. “I’m not going anywhere, so...” he let go of your hand to pat your thigh now. “C’mon; serious. What is it, why do you want to wait?”

“Duff, we’re so close in age. It’s...I mean, they’re automatically gonna hate me. I know I would hate me if I were in their shoes.”

“Y/N, I don’t think you realize just how easy it is to love you.” Duff mused. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s, I mean, the situation is...unique. We both know that. But my girls, we raised them to be open-minded. They just have to get to know you. They’re going to love you.” You grimaced at Duff’s assuredness.

Though you had been dating Duff officially for a little over a year, you had known each other for a few years before that, introduced by a mutual friend at a small holiday get-together. At that time, you hadn’t known Duff was newly single, you were just freaking out on the inside about having a conversation with the bassist from Guns N’ Roses and praising yourself for actually getting him to laugh. Little did you know, he genuinely liked you as a person and he wasn’t just being a fake polite celebrity interacting with someone not quite as illustrious as himself.

Since then, well, things had obviously taken off. You had even met Susan, who had split with Duff amiably and still saw each other for friendly lunches or to support their daughters. But Mae and Grace themselves? Intimidation at its peak.

Neither Mae nor Grace followed you on Instagram, they never liked pictures that Duff posted including you, and they certainly were never around backstage at Guns N’ Roses gigs if you were there. You understood from their eyes; you knew how it looked. That was just the unfortunate truth, as well as disadvantage, to being so young. Everyone thought you were just after Duff for his money or something of the sort, some kind of vanity or ticket. But it wasn’t like that; you turned Duff down several times. It wasn’t as if you weren’t interested, you were just apprehensive of dating not only an older man, but a very famous and wealthy one.

But if you weren’t going to date him for that, you weren’t going to not date him for the same reasons. And it was undeniable; you and him clicked from the very beginning. Inevitable, you could feel your heart tugging, fighting, to be with him.

You started passing more familiar houses in the neighborhood, and as you got closer, you could feel yourself sweating.

“Sweetheart, relax. Everything’s gonna be fine; you’ll be laughing by the end of the night.” You turned and looked at Duff as he parked the car in the driveway, still smiling—the yin to your terrified, panicked, yang. “Come on, breathe with me.” He coaxed you gently, and you nodded, focusing on his eyes to steady yourself before you got out of the car together.

As soon as Duff opened the front door you could feel yourself tense, as if you were expecting to get attacked from the get-go.

“Mae? Grace? You guys wanna come down and say hello to Y/N?” Duff called up the staircase. You bit your lip and again smoothed down your dress.

Mae appeared first, intimidatingly beautiful and a spitting image of her mother, dressed in a tied crop top and baggy jeans with tennis shoes. Grace was right behind her with a more obvious scowl, and to your horror, wearing leggings and a t shirt. Both girls raised their eyebrows at your dress before sharing a private look at each other that knocked your self-esteem meter down a good amount.

“Y/N, this is Mae, and this is Grace. Girls—”

“Dad, we know her; this isn’t really necessary.” Grace spoke up, refusing to look at you. Mae had her arms crossed and appeared bored.

“You’ve never met before.” Duff argued lightly. You kept your mouth shut. “And what’s with this, we’re going to dinner, remember?”

“You’ve never had an issue with the way I dressed before.” Grace argued back heatedly. “Now I have to look presentable for her?”

“No, I’m not saying that, of course I’m not saying that, honey—I would never. But Y/N put in an effort to—”

“No, no, I uh, I really didn’t know what to wear…” you blurted out, wanting to cringe as both girls turned to you for the first time. “I really should’ve gone with the leggings.”

“Do you want to change?” Duff offered. “You could borrow one of my shirts—or, you know I’m sure you could borrow one of Mae’s—”

“Dad!” Mae protested immediately.

“No! No, I’m okay.” You interjected quickly. The silence filled the room again and made a mental note that you now had a story to tell if someone ever asked what your most awkward and embarrassing moment was.

“Okay, well, dinner, yeah?” Duff asked as if there weren’t obvious tension in the air. The girls silently marched passed him towards his car and climbed in the back seat together.

“They’ll warm up at dinner,” Duff insisted to you confidently. You said nothing and remained silent as you climbed into the car.

“Who’s gonna pick the music?” Duff asked, looking back in the rearview mirror. “Grace, why don’t you show Y/N some of your stuff?”

“Why would I do that?” She muttered, staring at her phone. You swallowed a little; this was actually a topic you felt confident enough to maneuver.

“I’ve already heard some of your stuff, actually.”

“What, did my dad force you to listen to it?” Grace asked unenthusiastically.

“No. I mean, he told me you had a band, but I never listened until I heard one of your songs on this sorta underground playlist at work. I loved it, and then I realized it was you.”

“Which one?” Grace asked, her tone neutral now instead of disinterested.

“‘Texas’. I really love it. I like ‘Miles Away’ too.” There was silence and you tried to remember your words and figure out if you said something insulting.

“...Thanks. I like that one too.” She said. “We’re doing a music video for it soon.”

“Really? What kinda vibe?”

“Kinda like, road trip aesthetic. Convertible with the top down on a highway.”

“That’s so perfect, I love that.” Suddenly, somehow, you had managed to stumble your way into a conversation. Duff was smiling silently, allowing it to unfold, but you barely noticed due to the conversation.

As you pulled up outside of the restaurant you and Duff frequented, you noticed more traffic and gasped lightly at the sight of the cars filling the parking lot. “Dad, look at the line! It’s Friday night at dinner time, you know it’s always packed.” Mae complained.

“Shoot, I forgot what day it was.” Duff murmured. The line was out the door with several people waiting around out front and even more inside. He frowned, clearly unsure of what to do next, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

“Dad, I’m starving. I don’t feel like waiting an hour to eat dinner.” Grace added in her own disdain. For a moment, you took in the situation. Something so mundane, just with Duff and his daughters with the dilemma of trying to figure out what to eat, a little piece of his life that you were lucky enough to be a a part of. No problem, not even this, even seemed like a problem.

“Why don’t we just pick up pizza? Or burgers?” You suggested lightly. Duff turned to you and you smiled at him. “Or both?” He laughed, and that’s when you noticed you heard more than just the sound of his.

Both Grace and Mae were laughing too with smiles on their faces. “Yes! Both!” They agreed.

“Hell yeah,” Duff decided, giving you one last smile before he turned the car around.

When you finally arrived back home with your eclectic dinner assortment, you kicked off your heels immediately.

“Finally,” you muttered, not realizing the girls could hear you. Grace grinned.

“They’re cute, though.”

“You can have them.” You proposed without thinking. “I haven’t worn them in three years, I imagine it’ll be another three before I wear them again.”

“Oh, well...okay.” She said, giving you a small smile. “Thanks.” You smiled back and headed towards the kitchen where Duff was gathering utensils and napkins, a small smile on his face.

“You know, when I eat pizza I just hold it in my hand the entire time.” You joked lightly at the sight of the plates in his hand. “What?” You asked when he kept smiling.

“Thank you.” You frowned at him quizzically.

“For?”

“Earlier. Nothing ever makes you lose your cool. When I’m with you, life just feels as easy as breathing. Like it’s just supposed to be this way, you know?” You were taken aback by his words and smiled, leaning up to rest your head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head. “That’s why I wasn’t worried about today. It’s important to me to empower my daughters and I know once they get to know you, you’re gonna inspire them as much as you inspire me.” You let out a deep breath of appreciation, soaking in the weight of his praise, allowing yourself to feel this happiness deep to your bones.

“I hope so.” You replied. “Although, I think it’s still gonna take quite some time...” You murmured, turning to glance over your shoulder. To your surprise, the girls were already watching, whispering to each other. Mae had her phone out and smiled when she made eye contact with you.

“That height difference, though.” Mae said, heading to your side to show you the photo she had taken of you and Duff just moments prior. There was a comfort in her actions, as though she had already known you for years, watching your face and waiting for your reaction. You laughed at the picture, as did Duff, who put his arm around you and Mae both.

“I’m a real catch, what can I say,” Duff joked dryly. Mae rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, you’re in for quite the deal, Y/N…” she told you. You laughed before you privately took in the picture before you, Duff and his daughters settling down for an evening together, and somehow, that involved you. Quite the deal indeed.

#duff mckagan #guns n roses #duff mckagan imagine #thank you for requesting!#guns n roses imagine

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just-call-me-j-10v3 · 4 years

Text

Episode .5

The beginning

https://just-call-me-j-10v3.tumblr.com/post/643250003280904192/episode-1-the-truth-of-the-missing-brother

On the twelfth hour on the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day began. Sir Reginald Hargreeves went around to collect as many as he could, however he only got eight of them.

Number eight, or Jela Hargreeves as she would be later known as, was a special case, simply because her mother had abandoned her from the start. On that twelfth hour a woman that goes by the name Marie Laurence was amongst the couple dozen not so fortunate women to be struck with those harsh birthing pains.

Her screams of pain were ignored in that New York alleyway, she had been walking home from her job as an exotic dancer. Marie would consider it honest work, maybe, if it weren’t for the fact that she was in deep debt with her boss. She was in too much trouble and having a kid, it would end up ruining her life forever.

She had the baby in that gloomy and damp alleyway and after she collected herself she left the child to die. She called the cops anonymously, saying that she had heard a baby crying in that damned alleyway for her own conscience's sake, (Jela didn’t see her until she later offered her the money she would’ve gotten for her from Reginald out of spite, a way to say she was better off without her, but let's keep that between us).

Reginald held that abandoned baby girl in his arms, he looked her in the eyes and when he saw that lack of emotion in her eyes the way she was so detached from everyone else.

“She has never been held before me, how is that so?” he had asked them as they told him this shocking news.

“No sir, we had figured we were picking up a dead body when we received the call, you came just as we set up to carefully extract her. The only issue we’re having is she doesn’t seem to cry or make noises, we’re afraid she might not have the ability to or other such issues. We really think it’s best to have her stay in the hospital with the other’s you have adopted.” The nurse suggests as she looks at the newborn in his arms.

“I will be taking her home with me now, the others I will pick up when they're ready, she needs to be held by me and me alone.” He says before leaving to take care of the little girl at home…

You see, Jela to Reginald was going to be his special child, the one he treated differently to see if it revoked a different outcome, her childhood she was known as ‘Daddy’s favorite’ but the others will never fully understand the amount of extra torment the emotionless one got as Reginald’s true number one.

That’s where we move to today, when you see the outcome of the little heros, the day where numbers 1-7 were met with a weight off their shoulders, but the day number eight was met with her first ever jolt of grief… The day of Reginald Hargreeves’ death.

Jela sat there, watching her sister playing violin on that late night, she would always go out of her way to see her.. After all Vanya and Jela were the only two the others didn’t exactly get along with.. She was watching when she got a call, she got up out of her seat, flashing Vanya a quick ‘I’ll be back’ look before walking away to answer the call.

“Unless someone died you shouldn’t be calling me and you damn well know that.” Jela snarls as she answers the phone, she knew that it wasn’t anyone she cared about, just another one of her workers.

“I’m sorry boss, listen, it’s that damned Hero of yours again, he showed up at that small hit you had set up, a few of our guys didn’t make it.” The worker in question states solemnly, shaking his head and biting his lip.

“Good, that means he feels like he saved the day, that was the point Speedy, I know you don’t get it but they needed to go.. Call them, I don’t know, casualties, another statistic. Whatever makes you feel better, just get someone into the coroner's office to burn, cut or even cover up those tattoos. I don’t need Diego finding out about my operation, got it?” She says with lack of emotion, something that came naturally to her, however, feeling emotions, that was the hard part. She sighs, knowing that her workers like to call each other family, she thinks on it as she hears his silence, most likely biting his tongue. "Alright, I know what you’re thinking.. I'll call a meeting with the Pit (A group of snakes), we’ll get our snakes in a group and take a day off to mourn, sound good Speedy?”

“Thanks Queeny, I’m sure their families will appreciate it, I’ll make sure we send them the usual parting gift.” He says, sounding more content with that outcome.

“Don’t start expecting it every time some run of the muck idiot dies to someone as bullheaded as number two, this is an exception, only because there were multiple losses at once.” Jela sighs, just hanging up, about to go back in when she receives another phone call…

“Mom, it’s late, why are you calling me?” She says, false worry in her tone, she never worries, or, rather, she never feels the emotion that comes with the idea of worrying. That’s when she hears it, the whispering of those three goddesses, Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos, or, also known as, the Moirae… the Fates. And with those whispers starts coming the emotions, she feels the fear, the agony, the grief… “No- Mom tell me you didn’t.”

“Please I need you to help me Marie-” She says, calling her by the name she had given Jela in the beginning.

“It’s Jela, and don’t move a muscle, don’t tell Pogo, don’t call anyone else, I will be there. You are lucky I was taught to respect you as my mother otherwise I would gladly be an orphan tonight.” She hung up the phone, telling Vanya that a job went wrong and she has to go, she calls one of her cars, the driver drops it off and walks away. She gets in and goes home, when she gets there she quickly works on cleaning and setting everything up to make it look like an accident, nothing remotely suggesting otherwise. She quickly messes with Grace’s programming, editing the cameras to remove herself, but leaving the truth about their fathers death to be found.. She went to her old room that night and for the first time since she was a child she sat there and cried…

The news got out the next morning and Jela was there to meet number two, who had felt the need to do his own check on Reginalds death. She watched as he walked around the room, examining things and making sure there wasn't any struggle.

“Diego, looks like you only care to visit after he’s dead, mom definitely missed her st-st-stuttering stanley.” She teased with a smirk, her eyes showing a slight glint of mischief, even with the circumstances she has to act like herself, even though she hates how she feels she can’t show that she does feel.

He throws a knife at her and she doesn’t even flinch as that knife flies directly next to her head, the wind from it moving her jet black hair. “When did you last see dad, Marie.”

She snarls a bit, absolutely loathing that name, her two toned eyes going darker at the sound of it. “You can say what you wish about me and call me what you wish, but don’t you dare insinuate that I killed my father.” Her voice cracks a bit, her eyes watering a bit, normally it would make people feel remorse or pity, but for Diego, it scared him to see Jela tear up like that.. An emotional Jela is a deadly one. Which means, if Reginald did die from muder Jela would have them dealt with already… Unless they were family, and she only considers a few people family.. He better call Allison and make sure she’s alive at some point… Just in case.

“Calm your tits or at least cover them, what the hell are you wearing anyways?” He says, getting distracted by her all too revealing outfit.

She couldn’t help but smile a little at that response, blinking her tears away and shaking her head. “You’re such an idiot, you know that?” She says, looking down at her black sweatpants, combat boots and crop top.

“I’m not an idiot, you just have the same iq as that one dude with the apple.” He says, playing dumb to try and break through those walls she has been building up, they used to be close when they were teens, he still likes to believe he knows her better than anyone. He knows how to make her smile at least.

She lets out a small laugh, smiling a bit. “You and I both know you damn well remember who Issac Newton is, stop playing dumb.”

“Tell anyone I did that and we’re going to have another match like when we were twelve.” He warns before he starts to leave to sneak into the coroner's office.

“You cheated! We considered the choke hold against the rules prior to the match!” She frowns something close to a pout.

“I adapted Miss ‘I can see the future’ maybe talk to your witches next time!” He shouts back, only to have a shelf that had been holding up perfectly well their whole lives fall directly on top of him.

She burst out laughing as she watches him stand back up in the hallway, holding his head. “That’s what you get for calling the three Goddesses of fate witches! You never learn.” he scoffs and just leaves without another comment. Jela goes and sits in the living room, looking at the painting of her old favorite sibling before texting Vanya. I’m sorry I wasn’t with you when you found out.. You have to come to the funeral or else we’ll have to have one for one of the others soon after, love you.

Allison was the first to make it there, Jela was sitting on a rocking chair next to their mom, reading in front of the fireplace in a black pantsuit, her jet black hair straight, as per usual, her green and brown eyes looking over as Allison walks in, scanning her up and down, her eyes flashing to a pure white colour, almost as if she were blind, something that happens when the fates talk to her. “Troubles at home I see, if you need help getting your daughter back I can help you out.”

“Don’t use the fates to spy on my life, if you cared you would actually call me.” She says with a frown, shaking her head.

“Says the one that didn’t invite me to her wedding, but you’re right, I don’t care about you in this instance, however, I do care that Claire doesn't get to see her mom, my niece deserves better.” She states in a melancholy voice. That’s when another one of their siblings enters.

“Hey Mom, mom?” Jela glances at the robot in question, sighing, she’s going to have to do another repair…

“Vanya?” Allison says as she recognizes the voice. “You’re actually here..” Vanya lets out a relieved sigh as her sister walks over to hug her. Jela sets down the book she was reading, or rereading should I say, as she watches her siblings hug. Extra-Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven (Vanya Hargreeves' self-written tell-all auto-biography) Oh how Jela loves that book, the most truthful thing she has ever seen in her life, even paints her as a villain.. Jela always loved playing the villain, even when they were training as kids.

“Hey Allison..” she says as her sister lets her go. Jela stands up to join the girls after setting her book down, walking over to them.

“Hah, what is she doing here? You don’t belong here. Not after what you did.” Diego says, dramatic and closed off as ever as he walks through the door.

“Talk to her like that and you’ll lose your tongue.” Jela snaps, standing protectively by her sister who never knows how to respond when Jela stands up for her like that.

“You two are seriously gonna do this today?” Allison asks, glancing over at Jela who she knows better than to get on her bad side before looking at Diego's outfit. He looked like offbrand Batman. “Way to dress for the occasion by the way.”

“And he was making fun of my crop top the other day, at least my clothes don’t make my ass look flat.” She whispers to Vanya, making her giggle a bit, Jela knew how to cheer her up.

“At least I’m wearing black.” He responds, either ignoring Jela’s comment or he didn’t hear it. Vanya looks at him walking away and Jela can practically feel the anxiety radiating off of her.

“You know what? I- Maybe he’s right and I shouldn’t-” Vanya starts, proving to Jela that she was right, like usual.

“Forget about him.” Jela and Allison say at the same time, making Jela wonder if the fates were messing with her or if she’s just more like her sister than she thought. “We’re glad you’re here.” Allison finishes off before they head to the living room to sit down.

Jela, however, meets up with Diego at the top of the stairs, knowing that he’s going to see Luther snooping around. “You’re an asshole to Vanya, she spoke the truth, that’s more than most of us.” She says, earning a glare from Diego, family events always puts him in a brooding mood. “She spoke out against someone she deemed as an abuser and she stood up against her siblings for bullying her. She has the right to tell her side of the story.”

“She made us look evil, I’m not a bad guy Jela.” He snaps, glaring at her, getting more frustrated at how calm she looks.

“You’re the only genuine hero I know Diego, she was venting and got money out of it, any kind of publicity is good publicity, if you have an issue with the book, write a statement on it and post it.” She says with a shrug, watching the shocked and confused look on Diego's face when she calls him a hero. She goes to speak again, only to be shushed as he hears Luther rummaging around and they walk towards it.

They stand in the doorway, watching him for a moment, the villain and hero, side by side. “We can save you some time.” Diego states as they both lean against their sides of the doorframe.

“They’re all locked, no forced entry.” Jela continues, her and DIego used to be a great team when they worked together..

“No sign of struggle, nothing out of the ordinary.” Diego says as he slowly walks towards his brother. “Oh, you got big, Luther. What’s the secret, huh? Protein Shakes? Low carbs?” Jela lets out a small laugh, really just watching them to make sure they don’t break anything if they fight.

“What do you want?” Luther asks, glancing at Jela before looking Diego in the eyes, something Reginald taught all of them, eye contact shows that you aren’t afraid. Diego lets out a sigh that slightly resembles a scoff before taking a paper out of his pocket, one Jela knew he damn well shouldn’t be able to have. That’s vigilantes for you.

“The autopsy report.” He says, holding it out for Luther to grab, but as soon as he goes for it Diego pulls it slightly out of reach. “Ah.” He says like the teasing sibling he is before letting him grab it.

“And you have this why?” Luther asks, opening the paper with more gusto than Jela would’ve liked, she has a feeling that Luther isn’t going to let this go, and that frustrates her.

Diego walks away a bit, facing the door and winking at Jela, “Well that’s because I… broke into the coroner's office.” He says with his arms open and a slight bow before sitting down in a chair. “And surprise, surprise, Dad’s death was… normal. Just a boring old heart failure.” Jela walks over to Luther, grabbing one of his arms and pulling it towards her height so she could look at it. She immediately realizes something and gives Diego a bit of a look.

“Yeah, so.” Luther says, a bit offstandish about it, looking at the picture, skimming over the report a bit.

“So, why are you in here, checking all of the windows.” He was with a slight raise and drop of his hands to gesture at the room they’re sitting in.

“Were you the first on the scene?” Luther asks, slight suspicion in his tone, looking at his brother, Jela watches the interaction, knowing where this is going.

“Pogo reported the body.” Jela says, very particular with her words, something they’ve all gotten used to over the years of growing up with Jela.

“Yeah, I talked to Pogo, he said he couldn’t find Dad’s monocle.” Luther says, giving Jela a look, she knew that look, he always wore it when they would be training in the detective work of the job.

“And your point being?” Diego says, shrugging his shoulders and brushing it off, that’s when Jela knew that he had taken it, she didn't understand why he would want a monocle, it wouldn't look good on him so it must be an emotional decision.

“Well can either of you think of a single time where you saw dad and he wasn’t wearing that monocle?” He counters, looking at Jela for support, but this is when she just shakes her head and leaves to have her own conversation with her more chill siblings.

She could practically smell the classic scent of drugs and booze when her favorite sibling entered the building, she smiles a bit, walking towards her fathers study and laughing a little as she sees him rummaging through their dead fathers things. “Let me guess, an advance on our inheritance?”

“Oh, that’s perfect! I’ll have to use that one!” Klaus says, walking up to Jela and pulling her into a hug, she groans, completely tensing up. He quickly lets go and throws his hands up. “Oh right! Sorry, no hugs.” He says, giving her a quick peck on the cheek insead and she sighs, glancing back at the door.

“Well, if you don’t find anything I can give you something light to keep the real bad ones away, you know how I feel about the hard shit, but my business is doing great and I don’t want you to have to deal with those nightmares… Ben’s yelling at me isn't he?” She says, practically feeling the ghosts glare.

“More like just giving you a thorough glare, says he doesn’t like how we influence each other. Do you know I love you?” He says with a smile, before going back to rummaging, That’s when Allison walked in and Jela looked back at her, seeing that look on her face reminded her of when they were younger…

Jela was sitting in a chair next to Reginald, the others were getting ready for bed, but not Jela, Jela was stuck with her Father still even though they had training in the morning. She sat next to him, thread with gold intertwined in it wrapped tightly around her hands, tight enough that she knew she would have marks the next morning and it would hurt to fight. She used it (and sometimes still uses it) as a conduit to connect with her deities, most people would have a shrine or candles and other such things, but Jela wasn’t religious, she was just chosen and created to withstand the emotional turmoil and the pain that comes with the knowledge of the future.

There’s a knock on the door and it breaks her concentration, coming back from talking to the three goddesses her eyes go from the blind white color to the mismatching green and brown. She looks down in time to see that the thread has cut through her skin, but knows better than to stop because of it.

“The children are ready for bed sir, they wanted to say goodnight.” Grace says cheerfully as she enters, part of her mothering program wanting to override her other systems and go help Jela… But she couldn’t, no matter what she wasn’t allowed to help Jela, only Reginald was. It was in her programming.

The door opened and Jela looked up, making eye contact with the others, the only ones who showed no jealousy at all were FIve and Klaus… They know the truth, she had told them all about what it was like being his favorite. Their father didn’t even bother to glance. “Okay! TIme for bed now kids, come along. Come along now.” Grace says as she ushers them out.

“Come along now Allison, your father and sister are busy.” Grace said to her as she was the last to budge.

“He’s always busy, and she isn’t my sister.” She says before walking out, Jela showed no sign of caring about Allisons harsh words, they both were too alike and bumped heads and she knew that. Reginald saw Jela’s lack of emotional response that night and cleaned her wounds before taking her out for ice cream, only to leave Jela out in the woods for a week after that ice cream.. That was her reward, other than usual training she got life or death. She lost weight but she made it out without so much as a scratch, she could only give the explanation that the fates were on her side.

“Jela, what are you two doing in here?” Allison asks, bringing Jela back to present times, she blinks once, collecting herself as she glances at Klaus, who quickly gets up from his spot behind Reginalds desk.

“Oh! Allison! Wow, is that you?” Klaus asks as he walks over to her, Jela stepping to the side as she lets her favorite sibling talk his way out of this one. “Hey, come here. Long time, too long.” He states, pulling Allison into one of his comforting hugs.

He pulls away from her a little and looks into her eyes, Jela walking away from those two as she walks over to her spot next to her fathers chair, one of her most recent art projects sitting on the desk. It was of number Five with an axe, his face covered in blood… She still did projects with her dad and they have recently been trying to get her sibling back, it had been their main focus. She could tell dad was getting paranoid, she just never wanted to see that it was going to be her mom that betrayed him. She wishes that her deities would’ve shown her that instead of a worthless picture of Five.

“Hey, I was hoping to see you actually, because I want to get your autograph. Add it to my collection.” Klaus saying this makes Jela focus on their conversation, she laughs a little, shaking her head.

“Klaus, I love you but I think it’s your drug dealers that have the collection, not you.” Jela says bluntly, looking at the two.

Klaus gasps and Jela almost expects him to be offended until he says, “You love me? I win! I was the first one you said it to, everyone owes me twenty bucks!” He is excited about it, Jela looks at him, not even shocked as she watches Allison hand him twenty bucks.

“Just out of rehab?” She asks when she sees the medical bracelet on Klaus’ arm, her eyebrow cocked, regretting giving him the money.

“No, no. No, no, no, no. No. I’m done- I’m done with all that.” Jela looks up at him, knowing better than that, plus, he stutters when he lies. “I just came down here to prove to myself that the old man was really gone. And he is! He’s dead. Yeah!” He says, clapping with excitement.

“You know how I know? ‘Cause if he were alive, only one of us would be allowed to set foot in this room. He was always in here, our whole childhood, plotting his next torment, right? I mean, Jela you know how he used to look at us, that scowl.” He says, pointing up at the portrait.

“Thank Christ he wasn't our real father so we couldn’t inherit those cold, dead eyes!” He says, pulling his eyes open and screaming a little with a chuckle. Jela looks at the scars on her hands from all the training she went through, the lack of sleep she had gotten, she was the only one that went without a half an hour break on the weekends. Without him she’d most likely be dead or have no idea how to communicate with the fates, if the fates say that this is where she is meant to be then so be it, she looks at Klaus who is sitting in their fathers chair, looking out the window for a moment.

“He wasn’t a good person by all means, but he was a great one. He pushed us to our limits and made us face things that no one else will hopefully ever have to face, but he was my father and I didn’t wish any kind of death on him. He is gone, his thread has been cut. That should be the end of his story, but-” She groans, the whisperings happening again and she grips the string in her pocket, she isn't allowed to tell them that yet. “...But I wish I was able to tell him that he wasn’t as smart as he believed and that his legacy is failing. It seems I’m the only one able to continue with the majority of his-”

“Blah blah blah, can we go back to you saying how much you love me, oh! We could go for a walk and buy brownies at the store!” Klaus interrupts, Jela just shakes her head at him. He is the only one that has ever gotten away with doing something like that. “Jela, sis, I love you.”

“Don’t over use it or it won’t hold as much meaning, but… I love you too Klaus.” She says looking in one of their fathers drawers and finding a picture that she took of her kissing Reginalds cheek, he looks so serious, but you can see a bit of a smile hidden there.. It was from their last ice cream trip, that was two days ago. She made him take a break because he was getting extremely paranoid, he told her she reminded him of Grace that day, the real one.. It shocked her… She should’ve known something bad was coming...

“Get out of his chair.” Luther says sternly, walking into the room, Jela sighs.. Luther has so much devotion to a man that he didn’t even really know. He thinks the numbers are based on the first being the best, but in reality it was based on a point system like Jela is an eight out of eight stars. She knows that Vanya has to have an ability, she just wishes she could figure out how to provoke it.

“Oh, wow, Luther! Wow, you really, uhh...You really filled out over the years, huh?” Klause says gesturing as if he was flexing his arms.

“Klaus.” Luther says in that same stern, scolding tone as he watches his brother, shaking his head a bit.

“Eh, save the lecture. I was already leaving. So, you guys can talk amongst yourselves.” He says with a small, teasing laugh as he walks towards the door, Jela walking to follow, smirking when Luther puts an arm in front of Klaus.

“Drop it.” He says and Jela can see his anger building up, it’s only a matter of time before he snaps and she's pretty positive it’s going to be on Diego.

“Ex-squeeze me?” Klaus says, playing dumb as he makes eye contact with Luther, not afraid of him.

“Do it. Now.” Luther says, only glancing away to look at Jela with a look that says ‘you were really going to let him get away with this?’ There’s a bit of a pause before KLaus gets a frustrated look and pulls away from Luther.

“All right. All right.” He says as he pulls away and as he starts pulling things out of his pockets he says. “It’s just an advance on our inheritance! That’s all it is! No need to get your little panties in a bunch.” He says with a gesture to his crotch, Jela laughs, walking towards the door.. She had missed Klaus, Allison however just looks away, disappointed. She walks out with Klaus, shutting the door behind them.

“Okay I know you kept the box, just give me the book inside.” She says and he excitedly pulls it out of the back of his shirt, pulling it out. She uses her key and opens it, taking the content out and putting it in her purse.

“You’re my favorite sibling, you know that?” He says, giving her a kiss on the cheek making her get a grossed out look on her face.

“You’re invading my space, and you better only buy weed with that or else I’ll skin whoever sold to you.” She says seriously and he smirks, saluting her as he walks away, looking at Ben who is glaring at him. “What, you’re dead, she’s my favorite living sibling.”

“I miss when she would ask about what was morally correct and what wasn't.” Ben says with a sigh, glancing back at Jela.

“Don’t worry I’ll buy the hard stuff from the really awful guy that I owe money to, it would be like doing the world a favour.” Klaus says, basically putting a target on that guy's head.

“Klaus you know she’ll do it.” Ben says with a scolding tone, glaring at his annoying sibling.

“That’s the point!” He says with a mischievous smile, him and Vanya are the only two that know about Jela’s real job.

They all eventually end up in the living room sitting in silence, Jela goes to take a drink of alcohol only to have Diego take it from her, giving her a stern look. She snarls at him, no matter how many times she has explained to him that her seizures are from talking with the fates and not because of an actual physical ailment he doesn't believe her. “I want my drink Diego.”

“Jela, last time you drank you had a seizure.” Diego says back and she frowns, holding her hand out for her drink.

“You know she gets what she wants Diego, save us the fight..” Vanya says softly and Diego takes the drink, downing it. Jela gets a look in her eyes, one that she always gets when she’s planning something.

“Okay Batsy, I’ll get some water.” She snaps, but it's only a matter of time until something happens and she won’t be taking Diego's side. Luther clears his throat, standing up.

“I guess we should get this started. So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at dad’s favorite spot.” Jela looks at Luther, shaking her head. Dad didn’t have a favorite spot, just a place where he made Luther feel important. The spot in question was the oak tree that Luther had an emotional connection to thanks to memories of their father.

“Dad had a favorite spot?” Allison asks, voicing almost everyone’s thoughts, she looks quite confused at the idea.

“You know, under the old oak tree. We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?” He says, a confused look on his face, Jela looks over and makes eye contact with Diego, he looks at her and she nods her head, confirming that not even she did that with Reginald.

“Will there be refreshments?” Klaus asks as he walks over with a joint and a drink of some sort, he lets Jela take a sip as he sits down. You can always count on Klaus to ask the important questions. “Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner.”

“What? No. And put that out, you know dad didn’t allow smoking in here.” Luther starts, only to be interrupted.

“Is that my skirt?” Allison asks, a tone that you would only hear coming from a sibling who has gotten their stuff ‘borrowed.’

“And my crop top, you better not get that dirty, it's my metallica one. Diego only let me cut one of his shirts I borrowed, and I like that one.” Jela says, giving Klaus a look.

“What? Oh, yeah, these. I found them in your rooms! It’s a little dated, I know, but this skirt is very breathy on the bits.” He was with a gesture towards his crotch.

“Listen up. Still some important things to discuss, all right?” Luther says, using his big boy leader voice, making Jela roll her eyes, she doesn’t really agree with him being a leader, but tolerated it to make him feel better about himself.

“Like what?” Diego asks, looking at Jela with an exasperated look.

“Like the way he died.” Luther says, making Jela let out a groan, any hope she had of abiding the issue being demolished.

“And here we go.” Diego says, Jela taking Klaus’ drink and drinking some of it, ignoring the glare it got her everytime she did.

“I don’t understand, I thought they said it was a heart attack.” Innocent Vanya says, looking at Jela for confirmation, she nods her head. That is what they said.

“Yeah, according to the coroner.” Luther says, Klaus holds his blunt to Jela’s lips and she takes a hit. Little did she know that Ben was yelling at Klaus for it the whole time.

“Well wouldn’t they know?” Vanya counters, giving him a slightly frustrated look.

“Theoretically.” Luther responds, and Jela could tell that he was getting even more bottled up frustration from this as no one believes him.

“Theoretically?” Allison asks with a frown.

“I’m just saying, at the very least, something happened. The last time I talked to dad, he sounded strange.” Luther states, trying to get them to take this seriously. Klaus starts gurgling his drink.

“Oh, quelle surprise!” He says while gurgling, Jela looks at Vanya, she’s starting to lose her patience.

“Strange how?” Allison asks, obviously upset by this, she just wants it to be over with.

“He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust.” He says and Jela gets up, walking over to the book shelf and just moving on from this annoying conversation, letting the others deal with it. Only hearing the important part like Luther telling Klaus to sober up so he can talk to dad's ghost and bringing up the monocle which in turn frustrates Batman, then it comes out, making her smirk and walk back over to them. “So whoever took it, I think it was personal, someone close to him, someone with a grudge.”

“Where are you going with this?” Klaus asks and Jela just pats Luther's shoulder, wondering how someone should properly respond to this situation, she decides pity is the option.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious, Klaus? He thinks one of us killed dad.” Diego says, now standing next to Luther, not once looking away, Jela snickers at the thought. Luther gets a guilty look on his face as they all stare at him.

“You do?” Klaus says his voice showing confused shock and his face just showing generally being upset with the thought.

“How could you think that?” Vanya asks, there was hurt hidden in her voice and Jela starts to feel protective over her siblings, after all, she knows who did it.

“Great. Job. Luther. Way to lead.” Diego says before leaving the room, presumably to hide how frustrated he really is.

“You’re wrong on this one Luther, take a step back and look at the full puzzle..” That’s all Jela says before walking to find Pogo.

“That’s not what I’m saying…” Luther says, trying to defend himself and his detective work, it was failing.

“You’re crazy man. You’re crazy. Crazy.” Klaus says, looking Luther in the idea before leaving as well.

“I’ve not finished.” Luther says, trying to get them to stay so he can change their minds.

“Okay, well I’m sorry, I’m just going to go murder mom. Be right back!” Klaus says sarcastically as he walks away from Luther, Vanya following.

“That’s not what I was saying, I didn’t-” He gives up, sighing a bit as he watches his siblings leave. “Allison. Jeez..” he says as she completely ignores him. “That went well.”

Jela sits in the kitchen, on the counter when Pogo walks in. “You’re too harsh on them you know, they are your only family.”

“I see three of them as my real family, Vanya, Klaus and Five. Allison, she’s a good woman and she deserves more than she gat, just like the others, if not more at times.. But she and I will never get along. And Luther is just, well, a dog on a leash and his owner just passed away. He doesn't know how to lead, I lead more than he does, even if it doesn’t look like it.” She says, leaning her head against the cupboard behind her.

“And Diego?” He says with a knowing look, smirking a bit. She gives him a slightly cold look, but sighs a bit and shakes her head.

“We have never called each other siblings, even corrected everyone on it growing up, not once have I seen him as or called him family. I think the fates always knew we would be something more… but it didn’t last, he left when he got the first chance to leave, and when he asked me to go with… I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave dad.. Even from the start dad had spent more time with me than the others, I was the only one he held as a baby and he was the only one I ever let hold me, not mom, not you, only him.. And now he’s gone. He’s dead and I seem to be the only one of his children who truly cares.” She says, looking at her hands.

“Jela, I-” He starts, trying to find a way to comfort her or help her… but he never had to before, nor did he get the chance to, Reginald was very strict on either he helps her or no one does. Now he’s gone. She looks up at him, but all those emotions leave her face when Grace comes in, along with Diego. Pogo walks over to grace and tells Diego she’s going to have a quick charge before the big event.

“Number two.” Jela says emotionlessly, still leaned back, but then she sees it, the pity in his eyes and it makes her groan. “Don’t. Whatever you heard, whatever you’re thinking, keep it in that smooth brain of yours, and yes, I mean the texture.”

“You can be a bitch sometimes you know that? A heartless, monstrous bitch.” He says and she doesn’t even flinch, she has heard it all before but what happens next shocks her. “But I know how much he meant to you.” He hands her the monocle. “I know you knew I had it, you should keep it.”

“Diego, there’s no point in me having this, he’s dead, we’re supposed to be moving on.” She says, shaking her head as she holds it in her hand.

“Do you remember our first mission?” He asks randomly, and she looks at him confused, nodding her head.

“I remember everything, Capital west bank outside of main and sixth, it was 17 years ago.” She says, still confused about why he was bringing it up.

There was a group of heavily armed men and they were trying to steal from the bank, they were dumb about how they did it, but smart enough to keep hostages. Jela had entered the building first, scoping out the place and telling all of her siblings which entrances were clear. Allison and her were the first to make appearances. Allison rumoured a man to shoot his friend in the foot and as she did that Jela walked up to a man, talking out one of her butterfly knives and looking him in the eyes.

“May the fates be on your side.” She said and the man held his gun up, trying to shoot at him, only for it to jam, Jela throws her knife at him, killing him instantly, as the rest of her siblings went around to finish off the others.

“Gun’s are for sissy real men throw knives!” Diego says, throwing one of his knives at a man, winking as Jela who just laughed a little at his dumb catchfrase. She walked over to the hostages, simply walking over to them and leading them out, every bullet missing them as they walked with her… They eventually got all of the ones in the main area and had Ben finish a group of them off with his ability before leaving, Jela pats Ben's shoulder comfortingly only to get a grossed out look on her face and taking her now bloody hand and wiping it on Diego. “Hey! That’s gross.” She just shrugs at him.

They walk out of the front doors, the cops yelling at them to lower their weapons and they didn’t because their knives were already holstered. Jela does as her dad told her to and walks to the middle, putting on a heroic face as the questions start coming.

“Who are you?” asks one news anchor and Jela looks at them, her dad said to keep them calm and he will step in when necessary.

“We’re the umbrella academy, a group of well trained heroes.” She answered smoothly, three siblings on each side of her, Luther seemed upset that she was answering questions, but she ignored his side glances.

“How did you get into the banks?” and “What happened inside?” Were the next two questions to be said out loud.

“How do you usually get inside of a building, or better yet, a building with locked doors, and I think it is quite obvious that all that happened inside doesn't matter, as long as the money is untouched and the people are safe.” She says, her voice loud enough to hear and it’s smooth, calming, careful.. She always knew how to sound like a hero. Their father gave a speech and the questions just kept coming, He put Jela under his arm, it showed that she was his prized child, she spoke for him..

She frowns a little at the memory, she used to be fond of it, now it hurts.. Why is that? “You chose such a stupid catchfrase.” She says, laughing, he walks in front of her with a mischievous glint in his eyes, their walls always down around each other… even if they didn’t realize it.

“I was a kid and you told me you loved it.” He says with a fake frown, she looks him in the eyes, he was standing directly in front of her now as he talks to her, she is still sitting on the counter. She feels herself missing how they used to be, before they became enemies… the only issue is, Jela knows it would never last, after all he had Eudora Patch now. Her hand twitches, and he knows that means she’s either murderous, upset, or uncomfortable, so he takes a step back.

“I was lovestruck and wanted to see you smile, trust me those oxytocin and vasopressin chemicals have gone, and from what I’ve heard from people on the force, your chemical imbalance when around me is gone too.” She says blankly, not showing any emotion, which is normal for her.

“Me and Eudora? Did she talk to you about me?” He asks and the way his eyes lit up with curiosity made her laugh.

“Diego, look at you, you’re a teddy bear.” She says with a snort, and just like that all of his walls come shooting up out if nowhere… and so do hers. They both can see it in each other's eyes, they aren’t ready to spend this much time together yet, she sighs. “I'm going to go find Klaus.” And with that she leaves. She walks towards where the bar is, but pauses for a moment, she pulls one of her golden threads out and holds it gently in her hand, and with that she sees her deities.

“Where are these emotions coming from? I thought you sai-” She says, almost about to get snarky with the ones she calls her godly parents.

“You will feel what you need to feel when you need to feel it, now listen to them. Stop believing in strength coming from how emotionless you are, give in and show him that you are sorry.” Atropos states, and Jela knew she should just agree.

“But-” She doesn’t apologize, she never apologizes. Why would she apologize to him when she doesn’t see what she did wrong, but why does she feel bad then.

“You are running out of time to speak with him, so make your choice.” Lachesis says before they send her soul back to her body.

When her sight comes back she groans, realizing that Clotho had walked her to the door of the living area.. She walks in and Diego looks at her from his spot at the couch. “I’m sorry, I still care, and I’m clingy.”

Diego gets an astounded look on his face, sitting up and looking her in the eyes. “Dads death really fucked with you, huh?” He asks, looking at her with complete and utter disbelief.

“No, I just know that no one will ever believe you if you tried to tell them I said that.” She says before walking over and sitting next to him, they sit in silence for a while.. Both a couple of brooding people who like the color black.

“I’m not that pissed, but I’m stronger and smarter than you act like I am.” He says, struggling to say those words.

“How about we-” She stops when she hears the music and looks at him when she gets an idea. She stands up, walking over to the door and checking both ways, shutting the door, Diego throws a knife past her and her pupils dilate, a laugh escaping her.

“How about we be stupid and just dance.” He says, holding his hand out, Jela isn’t a dancer… but she could never say no to that puppy do look, so she takes his hand and lets him spin and dip her before they pull away and start doing some random, fun moves. Sharing laughs and smiles, just like they did when they were kids… that's when thunder rumbles and the music stops. They share a confused look and rush towards the sound, Diego taking her hand on instinct and she doesn’t bother to question.

“What is it?” Vanya asks, fear clear in her voice as she looks to Jela for an answer.

“Don’t get too close!” Allison says, pulling Luther back by his arm gently, not once looking away.

“Yeah, no shit.” Diego says, but Jela ignores all of them, pulling her hand from Diego and getting closer to it, too curious for her own good. That's when one word rings through her head. Five.

“It’s a portal from a different timeframe.” Jela says, with knowledge from failed experiments.

“Out of the way!” KLaus yells, pulling Jela behind him as he tries to spray the portal with the fire extinguisher before throwing it in, Jela gives him a dirty look and pushes him back to the others.

“Get back, I don’t want you hurt.” Jela says, giving him a look and he steps back. That’s when something starts to push through.

“Get out of the way!” Luther says, pushing them back. “Stay behind me, stay behind me.

“Yeah, stay behind us.” Diego says, trying to reach for Jela to bring het behind him, only for her to take a step closer.

“FIve…” She says fondly, completely ignoring the chaos behind her, and just as he pushes through and falls out she catches him. Carefully setting him down.

“Does anyone else see little number five, or is that just me?” Klaus says, not looking away from Jela and Five as they all walk closer.

Five looks down at his body, seeing how young he is. “Shit…”

_______

ASK TO USE MY STORY

#the umbrella academy #tua #the umbrella academy oc

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jasperwhitcock · 4 years

Text

05. FAMILY FEUD

surprise, bitches. bet you thought you’d seen the last of me. why do i update my fic always a month apart. sorry!! i’m always working on it, i just write really long chapters... anyways, here is chapter five of my bella as a vampire and edward as a human fanfic inspired by an au that @bellasredchevy posted. you can read the new chapter on AO3 or here. i post updates on AO3 or on tumblr using the #equinoxjw tag.

i've incorporated some quotes from midnight sun because obviously this is still something of a parallel to midnight sun & i wanted to stay true to some of the reactions. also, you may recognize a little blurb imbedded here that i've written before about the bookshelf hehe. hope yall enjoy ♡♡♡

The weight of the battle I was fighting within myself was beginning to surpass the previous toll it’d taken on me. Every moment since I met Edward, it seemed I was falling further down into an abyss that I couldn’t climb out of, and every time I felt like maybe I’d found my grip, I only fell further. Again, I was frustrated as I sat outside Edward’s house in Carlisle’s Mercedes, watching the hazy, obscure sun slip further away behind the blackened clouds, leaving me shrouded in the darkness of a midday storm and the cover of pouring rain. I felt partially guilty for not returning Carlisle’s car. He wouldn’t mind running home, but Esme might not be too pleased about the puddles his drenched clothing would leave on her newly installed flooring. Although after today, it might not matter anymore.

I wondered what I’d return home to. Would they have already finished packing up our belongings? Would they be waiting to confront me about the consequences of my actions? Carlisle was forgiving, but would the rest of my family be?

For those reasons, I wasn’t ready to return home yet. But mostly, I was hesitant to drive away because I knew the moment my tires left Edward’s street would be the moment I’d be leaving him behind in Forks. I felt unprepared for the finality of such a moment.

When I heard the soft purr of an engine turning onto the street around one in the afternoon, I sighed, shifting the car into drive and moving forward to the end of the road in case it was Edward’s father returning home. I watched in my rearview mirror as the silver vehicle confirmed my suspicions by pulling into Edward’s driveway. Although the darkness of the thunderstorm’s gloom brewing in the clouds did little to obscure my eyesight, the torrent of rain pounding down relentlessly onto the green earth was too thick for even my eyes to catch a good glimpse of his face.

I could stay and listen – hear the voice of his father and compare it to the quality of Edward’s low, soft timbre, see if Edward’s sincerity in sticking to my version of events was genuine, check if he was truly as alright as he insisted – but maybe I was only looking for reasons to avoid heading home. Or maybe I was just being unforgivably invasive.

I glanced at the digital clock. 1:05. If they had stayed in their classes after the accident, there was still another hour and forty minutes before my siblings would be released from school. If they went home early, then Carlisle still wouldn’t be home for another two hours and twenty five minutes. I decided I’d rather not be there without Carlisle, so I lifted my foot off the break, slammed on the gas, and headed for Port Angeles before I realized where I was going.

As I left Forks behind me, the rain softened to a more consoling pitter patter on the roof of the car, and the clouds, although still grey, were lighter, hinting at the hidden sun. I made it to Port Angeles in under half an hour, luckily finding the roads to be mostly empty.

I drove at an appropriate speed once I reached the city. It was surprisingly beautiful scenery for such a disastrous day. It had snowed the night before here as well, but the melted snow hadn’t refrozen into ice. Instead, the tops of the buildings were covered in a thin layer of fluffy white snowflakes. The clouds above were thick enough to conceal me from the sun but held no implications of oncoming rain.

I located a parking spot near my favorite old brick building and paid the meter for the next few hours. The air was even more wintry here than in Forks as the harbor air brought in fresh, freezing ocean spray. There was a bookstore I liked to go to here in Port Angeles. Even as a child, Forks didn’t have an adequate library or bookstore to satiate my needs. My previous grievances with the rainforest of a city aside, there was always the silver lining of the bookstore.

If there was one thing that I looked forward to when arriving in the otherwise detestable small town of Forks in the rainy state of Washington, it was returning to the familiar mahogany of the sturdy bookshelf in the tiny living room of Charlie’s small, two-story house. It had been a gift – a homecoming gesture – in hopes to put me in better spirits when I was forced to spend my summers with my father. He knew how I had disliked his gloomy town just as my mother had. A friend from the reservation, Billy Black’s, young, cheerful son built the bookshelf himself. Billy had dismissed Charlie’s offers to pay his son for the service, insisting he accept it as a present in return for all the nights Billy stole away to the Swan Residence (Swan, the last name I held as a human) to watch the game on Charlie’s much larger – though not by much – television screen. When he hadn’t been looking, Charlie slipped a small wad of cash to Billy’s kid who excitedly accepted it, eager to save for some other projects.

Over time, the book shelf became a home for some of my favorite classic novels. On his days off, when his friend Harry Clearwater was unavailable for a fishing trip, he’d picked up books of all kinds, hoping I would find at least one I liked in the overflowing collection. The bookshelf was stuffed with paperbacks and hardbacks, lining each ledge edge to edge with books piling horizontally on top of the other books as space began to run out. It was a gesture that moved me in ways I was unused to and ways I couldn’t find the words to express.

When I was in town, Charlie drove me to some of the larger cities surrounding his small town and waited patiently as I perused the shelves of second-hand book stores. Smart as he was, he wasn’t a very articulate man, struggling to convey the depth of his emotions through words. But something in his eyes betrayed the way his heart overflowed with pride and adoration watching his small, gangly daughter enter into a world of her own as she searched for her next favorite story to add to their beloved bookshelf. It was a look I caught that sometimes made me feel embarrassed and shy by the profundity of the love in it, but now a look that I’d always remember. A look that would always make my unbeating heart feel somehow full and empty at the same time. Intense feelings of love and sadness for what I’d once had and since lost. This bookstore was our favorite, and therefore, it would always be my favorite. It still held the aged charm of the past, but they made some modern improvements in desperation for relevance today. I’d made sure to keep the store open with anonymous donations. Too many independent bookstores suffered in such a competitive, unfair market full of large online distributors.

I listened to the familiar hum of the glowing red neon sign in the window as I reached for the door. A bell above let out a peal of rings as I entered, and the clerk behind the wooden counter looked up beneath her large glasses. Her skin was deeply tan with olive undertones and her dark hair was cropped in a perfect line above her shoulders. Her eyes registered shock upon seeing my face, her heart rate picked up, and she stuttered over her words. “W-welcome!”

“Thank you,” I smiled softly, though finding the politeness to be difficult today. I didn’t want to come across rude or threatening, but feigning anything resembling joy was especially exhausting. I kept my voice gentle and even so as not to alarm the woman.

“Let me know if you need any help!” She called after me as I passed the counter, heading deeper into the store.

The shop was unpopulated at this time of day. Only a few people loitered here and there examining the shelves or curled up on loveseats with hot coffee cups to recover from the chill of the outdoors.

I crossed over the entirety of the first floor, finding the concealed narrow staircase that led to the upstairs. Tasting the air, I could tell there was nobody immediately near me, so I flew up the staircase at a more reasonable speed though I was in no hurry. The second floor was a brown labyrinth, the bookshelves placed in a way to create an intimate maze with countless little crevices to slip into and hide away from the rest of the world. Hardbacks and paperbacks piled the shelves and walls from the floor to the ceiling. The air was filled with the scents of crispy paper, aged ink, and the sweet, musky smell of older books. The lighting was warm reddish-orange, dull, and not ideal for reading despite the setting, but a miscellaneous mélange of lamps in all shapes and sizes embellished the spaces tucked between the bookcases, generating enough brightness to read in tiny, personal pools of light.

I weaved a path through the maze until I reached a dead-end corner with a single, wine-colored armchair in a faded leather. An ornate wooden plaque spray painted gold with eroded edges was drilled into the shelf behind the chair, the words “For Charlie” engraved into the pallet. Well, my donations were mostly anonymous.

No matter how many times I rounded this corner, every time my eyes fell on the empty chair hit me like a wrecking ball with nearly unmanageable grief. Any attempt to decipher the thoughts that came with this always led me to simplistic statements because that was all that I could ever handle. It was too much emptiness, too much numbness, too much complexity. It was always simply too much. And that was about all the conclusions I could come to no matter how much gentleness and coaxing Esme, Rosalie, Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Carlisle comforted me with. It was always easier to push away the thought, to avoid thinking too much than to acknowledge the hole in my chest. Some days I almost forget, and some days it becomes seemingly ever present. It was always easier to ignore the gravity of the grief.

But in this life with the absoluteness of what we are, all we can do is to go on. One next step at a time. As much as I felt so much stronger and accustomed to this life, there was no denying the simple truth – there is so much loss in immortality.

I sighed. Even with all of our physical resilience, the extremities of our emotions in this form was enough to be tiring. I took steps forward and turned to sink into the chair, feeling very small. Looking out at the warmth of the bookcases and the endless array of novels, I thought of what it would be like to be Charlie sitting here, watching his awkward daughter run her finger along all the spines or disappear into the maze only to be found on the floor somewhere surrounded by piles of books.

Sometimes being here I could feel the ghost of Charlie’s love. The intensity that he couldn’t quite always communicate and that I didn’t always understand the extent of. But here, I could feel it. And I felt the same love for him in return. I missed him. His thick mustache, the sudden youthfulness in his warm, brown eyes when he smiled, the endearing crinkles that reminded me of his age. The coffee rings on the table, and the snow chains on my tires. The flush of red under his translucent skin when he was angry or embarrassed. Just like how my skin had been. Like father, like daughter.

I wondered what he’d think of my life now, and what he’d think of what I’d done today. Knowing the circumstances of the secrets I was meant to keep, would he have thought I’d done the right thing as Carlisle had? Or would he have thought I interfered and placed my siblings at risk like the rest of my family might think? I think that despite the consequences, he would have said something like, “you did the right thing, kid.” And maybe he’d even uncomfortably ask me about whether or not this boy was someone he should be keeping his eye on and would be immensely relieved when I reassured him that the answer was no. The thought almost made me smile. So then, I couldn’t bring myself to regret my decisions, and I wouldn’t allow myself to.

I sat there in the weathered leather of the chair for some time, listening to the subtle dragging of pages sliding off of shelves, the whoosh of air and the crispy rustle of paper as someone turned a page, the heaviness of footsteps on dead pieces of floorboard, the twinkle of the bell above the front door, and the whisper of the frozen wind rushing inside. After an hour, I stirred, rising from Charlie’s chair to trace my finger along the edges of the shelves, the action stirring up some dust particles to leap into the air like dandelion seeds, the warm light catching them in astonishing ways as they floated along. I left my little nook briefly to find the right section that would hold the book I was suddenly searching for.

When I located it, I plucked the gently used novel off the shelf, vowing to officially mend my own copy at home since it was the same story that Emmett had destroyed the morning of the first day I saw Edward.

I returned to the armchair, once again sinking down into the burgundy, and flipped through the aged pages until I found the place I left off at.

I’d have read until closing time, but eventually something in the unreliability of initial appearances in Pride and Prejudice began to bother me in a way that it never had before. I gave up on the book and instead sat unthinking – or attempting to, at least– quietly for a few hours.

Again, I longed to sleep. I’d never needed an escape as much as I did now as my mind was becoming too tiring a place to consciously be.

After some time, I heard creaky footsteps on the ancient wood up the stairs and the jingling sound of keys hitting each other. I waited patiently as they approached, imagining where exactly they may be in the labyrinth as they turned corners and hesitated to quietly shove stray books back onto shelves. They drew closer, closing in the distance between them and my little nook, finally rounding the corner.

“Oh!” The clerk from downstairs gasped in surprise, dropping the book in her hand. I stopped myself from saving it to not startle her any further with sudden movements, allowing it to clatter noisily to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, only then rising from the chair to lean down and collect the novel after an appropriate amount of reaction time. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The clerk’s heart boomed loudly in her chest. “No, no, it’s alright!” She laughed breathlessly, a hand fluttering to her heart. “I just didn’t think anyone else was here... We’re, uh, sorry, we’re closed!”

“Oh, I’m sorry again,” I laughed softly as well to relax her, extending my hand to offer her the book she’d dropped. “I must have lost track of time.”

“That’s okay! It happens more often than you think...” she laughed again, her heart rate slowing down to a more regular place, though now that she recovered from the shock, her face was mesmerized by the oddness of my jarringly perfect appearance.

“I’ll leave now,” I smiled politely, pushing the book forward to her hand, careful not to touch her skin. Without processing, she took hold of the book. As I began to pass her, she clumsily turned.

“Oh, uh, wait! I’ll unlock the door to let you out!”

I allowed her to pass me up and leisurely followed her through the maze down the stairs. Her blood had a sweet smell, but it was still unappealing in comparison to Edward’s.

Once we’d reached the door, I could see how much time had passed whilst I hadn’t been paying attention. Through the large windows, night had fallen in a blackened cloak over the port city.

“Here we are,” she shyly chirped in a very intentionally favorable tone – something she probably reserved for customer service – and fiddled with the keys. Her hands shook slightly, and I felt guilty for how it must feel to have her back turned to a predator. Of course, she couldn’t know the difference, but her body recognized the threat. Finally, once she’d found the right key, she jimmied the rusty metal into the lock – missing the narrow fissure twice at first – and opened the door.

“Sorry about that. Thank you so much for coming,” she turned, gesturing with a shaky hand towards the outside world. The bitter wind blew in through the opening, making her shiver.

“Thank you,” I smiled again for her sake. Her eyes were peculiarly light compared to the rest of her features, making them extremely prominent. They were lighter and more hazel, yet the shade of green made me think of Edward again. I sighed. “Have a good night.”

I stepped out into the darkened street, looking down at the strange way the red light from the neon sign in the window washed over and illuminated my skin. Tiny bugs flew around the street lamps up above, casting irregularly moving shadows on the frozen sidewalk.

The heavy door shut loudly behind me, and she clicked the lock. It was unusually quiet, though that could be due to it being a weeknight. The bulbs in the streetlamps hummed and the bugs buzzed in response.

I strolled along the sidewalk, taking my time before returning to Carlisle’s car. I should have paid the meter more generously. It expired two hours ago. I’d received a parking ticket. Oops.

I removed the frozen slip of paper and unlocked the car, sliding into the driver’s seat. I had no desire to drive fast at first, deciding to return home at the speed limit. After about forty minutes, suddenly the anticipation to get the confrontation out of the way overcame me, and I drove 200 miles per hour the rest of the way home. Within minutes, I was turning onto the miles-long driveway.

As I raced for the garage, I listened for any movement from the bright house. There was none. I wondered how long they’d been sitting still, waiting for me. I groaned aloud in greeting.

The garage door was open so I pulled into the blue fluorescence and parked beside Rosalie’s day car. I sighed once before determinedly exiting the vehicle.

I slammed the door a little too hard before catching the handle before it hit the body. Perhaps I’d reached my quota this morning when it came to destroying car doors.

I ran through the small section of woods separating the garage from the house and braced myself for the impact of the meeting.

“Hello,” I said sheepishly. I wanted to sound stronger and more confident, but my nerve wavered as I entered the dining room to see everyone waiting for me at the long oval table. At the eastern head of the table, Carlisle and Esme sat side by side, their hands resting together atop the mahogany. I felt some of the resilience I’d mustered in the last few seconds return upon seeing the intensity of Esme’s golden eyes. They were full of concern and overwhelmingly forgiving. It was reassuring.

Rosalie sat directly opposite from Carlisle, very intentionally avoiding eye contact with me, her arms crossed firmly across her chest. I could feel the tension and coldness emanating from her. I was unused to feeling spurned by Rosalie. She always tenderly cared for me, always taking my side… My actions must have truly offended her today. A twinge of guilt twisted my abdomen.

It was unfair to feel any sense of betrayal considering the danger I’d placed my family in, but still with Emmett wrly seated beside Rosalie, and Jasper standing behind them, leaning against the wall mirroring Rose’s crossed arms, I felt some irrational anger at the lines being drawn. Of course, I should have known better than to think Emmett would have my back as if he wouldn’t undoubtedly support Rosalie.

Alice sat beside Esme, her eyes focused on something other than the room. I wondered if her visions made her support waver, if in all the hours I’d been gone, she’d been moving back and forth on either side of the room. She always chose the winning side.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed. “First, for this,” I crossed to the other side of the table to sit beside Carlisle, placing the parking ticket on the wood and sliding it over towards him. His lips curved into an amused smirk, and I felt encouraged by the expression.

“And more importantly,” I turned to face Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper. “I’m very, very sorry for this morning. It was incredibly selfish, irresponsible, and stupid of me to put any of you at risk. It’s all my fault… I take full responsibility for my actions.”

Rosalie’s exquisite face finally looked up at me, her expression full of hurt. “And what does that mean, Bella? Are you planning on fixing this?”

The implication behind her words filled me with sudden indignation, and before I could calm myself down, I snapped, “not in the way that you mean.”

Of course, something had to be done about the accident, but what was the point of going to such idiotic lengths to save his life only to end it later? Didn’t she realize I’ve been fighting to keep him alive since the very moment I’d met him?

Rosalie took offense to the harsh accusation of my words. “You say that as if I’d advocate for this under normal circumstances.”

“I had planned on leaving before, and I will leave now if it makes things easier.” Rather than keeping my voice calm and even, the words again came out in ways I didn’t intend. Unnecessarily punitive. I knew it was ridiculous to be so angry with Rosalie’s anger towards me when she was entirely right, but I couldn’t tame my passion in defense of Edward’s silly little life.

“Oh, no, Bella,” Esme murmured. “Please, you can’t leave.”

I reached to squeeze my mother’s hand.

“It’d have been helpful prior to this morning,” Jasper spoke up. “Now, it’s irrelevant.”

“Jazz is right,” Emmett agreed. “There’s no point in leaving now. If anything, that’d look more suspicious.”

“I agree with Emmett, Bella,” Carlisle nodded. “For you to disappear, perhaps it’d make the boy more inclined to talk. Either all of us leave or none.”

“Edward won’t say anything,” I insisted.

“You can’t know that,” Rosalie argued.

“I trust him,” I disagreed, surprising myself at how true the statement was. I thought back to the biology lab when he’d jokingly asked if I trusted him. It was in response to his identification of the stages of mitosis, and I had said no. Now, I suddenly entrusted him with the secrecy of my vampire abilities. I was really unintelligent. She scoffed at my words. “Alice, back me up.”

“I can’t see what will happen if we just ignore this,” Alice rubbed her temples before shooting an accusatory glance in Jasper and Rosalie’s direction.

“We can’t ignore this. Bella, I have always supported you, and of course I love you dearly. But clearly, this isn’t some minor mistake. You were right – it was incredibly selfish and irresponsible and stupid! And it’d be even more irresponsible and stupid for us to allow the human the chance to say anything about it. Carlisle, you must see that,” Rosalie turned her attention to our adopted father.

“It’s not like we haven’t left rumors behind before,” I reminded her. “And I don’t recall anyone else’s first offense putting them on trial like this.”

She ignored the second part of my statement. “Rumors, Bella. Today, you’ve provided eyewitnesses and evidence! It’s not enough that you were perfect prior to today. You’re no more a saint than the rest of us! We have to be perfect always! This was a massive mistake!” Rosalie stood up from her chair. “And I know that!” I stood up as well.

“Then you should agree with what’s the right course of action! It doesn’t have to be a big production. So he seemed alright after the accident. Every mortal goes to sleep with the chance of never waking up. Say Carlisle missed something far more serious than it looked. I don’t delight in this, Bella, but the rest of our kind would expect us to take care of this. Technically, you should be the one to clean up after yourself.”

“Rosalie, the Masen boy is completely innocent,” Carlisle gently disapproved.

Rosalie frowned. “It’s an unfortunate consequence to Bella’s mistake in favor of protecting us all, but a consequence nonetheless”

“Rose, I am sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t matter anymore, Bella!” She interrupted.

“I never wanted this. I never wanted to place you or Emmett or any of us in this position. I know my actions have affected you. But I couldn’t just let him die that way!” My chest sunk at the thought.

“But it wasn’t your place to meddle with fate. You’ve already interrupted his life with your existence alone. Why let him survive? So that you could slaughter him later?”

I winced at her words, but a low hiss escaped my throat as well.

“Rose...” Emmett reached up for her hand to placate her, but she pulled away.

“No, it’s the truth. Our existence and your fixation on his scent posed a threat to the boy. His time came, but you interfered. Now he poses a greater threat to us. So what was the point of that then? You couldn’t help yourself from cutting into his life? It seems the universe provided you with an easy way out, and you went out of your way to make things not only more difficult for yourself but for us as well. I don’t always love this life, but excuse me for taking it personally when you’ve threatened the tiniest piece of happiness I have here! You should have just let him die! It seems you’ll end up killing him anyways!”

The room shifted completely. Suddenly, everyone was on their feet, Rosalie leaned towards me in defense, Emmett uncomfortably but faithfully crouched by her side, Jasper’s stance was more confident and relaxed but poised to strike as well. Carlisle and Esme were both by my sides, holding me in place by my arms. Only Alice remained in her seat, not at all concerned by the change in atmosphere. It took me half a second to realize what had triggered everyone’s response – to process the vicious growl that erupted from my throat and the tenseness of my body as it coiled to spring at my own sister. I was too stubborn and furious to feel any shame yet. I scowled but eased my stance, allowing Carlisle and Esme to gently coax me back to my chair. Everyone else loosened their defensive posture. Emmett made Rosalie sit down, her golden eyes narrowed in a harsh glare of which I was the recipient. Jasper stood straight again but remained stiff. Once we’d all relaxed, Carlisle began speaking again.

“Rosalie, I know you mean well, but every life is precious. To murder a blameless child poses an even greater risk to us. The occasional accident or lapse in control is a regrettable part of who we are, but to bring harm to the boy would make ourselves unworthy of the protection you so lovingly wish to give us. If we make exceptions to protect ourselves, we risk something much more important. We risk losing the essence of who we are.”

I couldn’t help the tiny smile that pulled at the corner of my lips.

“Carlisle, it’s about being responsible when Bella was so horribly irresponsible.”

Being on the receiving end of Rosalie’s inflexibility and anger was not at all pleasant.

"It's being callous," Carlisle corrected softly before repeating himself. “Every human life is precious.”

Rosalie sighed heavily and turned her head to again avoid looking at me, making it very apparent where the two of us stood.

“The question is whether or not we should move on,” he continued.

“The last thing I want is to unroot any of you. I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Carlisle. I feel confident about Edward’s silence,” I insisted again.

Rosalie huffed loudly, and I turned just in time to catch her rolling her eyes.

“Well, we certainly don't have to decide now. Perhaps we wait then,” Carlisle nodded.

I turned to face Alice, searching for some reassurance about the future but instead following her accusatory gaze to where Jasper stood leaning against the wall again. They were having another one of those silent conversations they shared that the rest of us were lost to. It was almost as if they could read each other’s minds.

“What?” I asked.

“Jazz seems to feel he’s above this conversation,” Alice gritted her teeth. “He seems to think he should set things right.”

My eyes flashed between her and Jasper, whose face was expressionless and unmoved. It took me a moment to piece it together.

“Jazz,” I warned as I began to feel irrationally overprotective again. “I won’t let you punish him for my mistake.”

“So he benefits from it then?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I won’t allow it,” I repeated.

“And I won’t allow Alice to live in danger. You can’t understand, Bella. You don’t feel about anyone the way I feel towards her.”

“That’s irrelevant. I’m not just going to stand aside as you murder him,” I hissed. “I will not let you hurt Edward Masen.”

We stared at each other. I knew he was measuring the opposition and sampling the depth of my determination.

“Jazz,” Alice interrupted us, cutting through the tension in the air.

“Don’t bother telling me you can protect yourself, Alice. I already know that, but-”

“That’s not what I was going to say, but thank you for the assumption,” she rolled her eyes. “And it’s true, I can. I don’t need the backup, you overprotective fool.”

She said the last words playfully, her voice full of affection, as she stuck her tongue out. The action was out of sync with the mood of the room. “What I was going to ask for was a favor.”

Jasper’s eyebrows raised at what was seemingly an inappropriate time to make any requests. My eyebrows knitted in confusion at where the conversation was heading.

“I know you love me, but I would really appreciate it if you didn’t try to kill Edward. First, we all know how headstrong Bella is, so you shouldn’t doubt how serious she’s being right now. I don’t want the two of you to fight. Seriously. Secondly, Edward is my friend. Yours too. At least, he’s going to be.”

“What?” Jasper gasped. Even though we were all very much accustomed to Alice’s ambiguity and the bizarre certainty she spoke with about things only she had seen, this was not a statement that could so easily be digested. I couldn’t tear my attention from Alice, staring intently at her face as if the meaning behind her words would suddenly be written on her forehead. What had she seen in that little odd head of hers?

“I’m going to love him–” as she said this, I nearly choked on the air whistling down my throat “–someday, Jazz. I’d be very put out with you if you don’t leave him be.”

I was locked into place, my eyes still boring deeply into my sister’s face. I could feel the pucker on my forehead etched into my expression as I tried to make sense of what she was saying. I kept expecting Alice to explain, but every time she opened her mouth she only confounded me more.

“Ahh!” Alice sighed, smiling brightly. “See, there’s nothing to worry about! Edward won’t say anything at all.”

I could not see.

“Alice,” I whined impatiently. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t know, Bella. I told you something was changing in your future.”

“In my future? What did you see?”

“Hmm… I don’t think I should share quite yet,” Alice locked her jaw, and I growled, exasperated.

“Oh, clearly, Bella can’t be trusted lately to not act on her impulses! You should give her whatever warning you’re hiding,” Rosalie sighed, annoyed.

I was still feeling illogically irritated with Rose’s resentment, but I couldn’t disagree with her. “She’s right, Alice.”

“I really don’t think-”

“Who votes that Alice shares what she knows?” I asked restlessly. “Raise your hand.”

It was juvenile, and this was not how we came to decisions ever. Of course we’d discuss differing opinions, but never so bluntly did we vote in this manner. The way I approached the subject was rude, but still unanimously, six hands shot into the air including mine.

“Fine,” Alice huffed, scowling. “But I’m not obligated to share anything just because the rest of you voted. That’s silly. I’m only sharing because I can see that Bella won’t let this go.”

She paused and we waited, staring. It was as if we were awaiting the results of a reading from some fortune teller at a carnival, anxious to see which tarot cards she had pulled. Anxious to see what this would mean for my life.

“My vision keeps becoming clearer. At first, it was just hazy, and I couldn’t make sense of it or of who I was seeing. Every minute it’s like Bella’s more decided,” Alice began. Six pairs of eyes flickered to me, but I had no idea what she was referring to, nor did I know how this related to the boy. Alice frowned a little as if she knew what she was about to say wouldn’t be received well. “It seems there’s only two ways left for Edward now. Either Bella will… end his life or… he’ll join us.”

Esme gasped as my mouth dropped open.

“Join us?!” I choked out once I recovered. “I…. I have not made a decision anywhere in that realm at all. That has never ever crossed my mind. Why in the world would I turn him?”

“Maybe you don’t. Maybe I do it because I love him too or at least, I will. I don’t know.”

“Love him, too?” I gaped, convinced Alice’s abilities were broken somehow. “What does that even mean? Who else are you talking about?”

“Who do you think, Bella?” Alice rolled her eyes again, impatient at my lack of clairvoyance. “Clearly not Rosalie.”

“Love him!?” Rosalie questioned incredulously, eyeing me as if I’d completely lost my mind. Maybe I had.

I then realized what Alice meant as I watched Rosalie’s face and processed the other baffled pairs of eyes.

“You mean me!?” I gasped.

“Woah! What the hell...” Emmett almost laughed in surprise, then decided it was indeed actually funny and broke out into real, booming laughter. “Damn! That’s rough. Of course, Bella would fall for a human!”

“Fall for a human?” Esme asked, completely astonished. “Fall in love? With the boy she saved today?”

“Nobody is in love with anybody,” I stood up. “That’s completely absurd!”

“Ooh, touchy subject,” Emmett snickered. I glared daggers at him.

“What exactly do you see, Alice?” Jasper asked.

“I already told you. It depends on Bella’s strength. Either she’ll kill him herself which would really destroy you, Bella, not to mention how very irritated I’d be with you–” she gave me a stern look through narrowed eyes as if I’d already committed the murder then returned her attention to the rest of our family “–or he’ll be one of us someday. There’s not much else to say; the visions are finite but not detailed. It will require a great deal of self control…”

As she continued to muse, I was still frozen in place on my feet, completely numb and completely bewildered.

“...Greater than even Carlisle’s capability maybe. I wouldn’t have put it past her prior to this, but now… It’ll be extremely close as to whether or not she kills him. The only thing she’s not strong enough to do is stay away from him. That’s a completely lost cause.”

The room was entirely quiet.

“Well, this complicates things greatly,” Carlisle murmured.

After another moment of silence, Rosalie piped up. “I can’t believe it. In love with a human-”

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Rosalie!” I snarled, returning to some clarity.

“Girls, please-” Esme began to plead.

“Ooh, she got you there, babe,” Emmett interrupted, chuckling as Rose growled at him.

“Emmett,” Esme warned sternly. He held up his hands in surrender but winked at me, grinning widely.

I couldn’t even appreciate the realliance. I was still too lost in the sudden upheaval of my entire life.

“I suppose the plans remain the same, though," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "We'll stay and watch. Obviously, no one will...hurt the boy.”

“Of course not,” Jasper agreed, nodding his head once. “If Alice only sees two ways, then it’s unnecessary to take matters into-”

“Shut up, Jazz,” I said numbly.

Everyone’s eyes flickered over to me.

I was just loving being the center of attention these days.

If Alice only sees two ways...

“You’re wrong,” I whispered. For the first time in my life, I was betting against Alice.

My psychic sister opened her mouth to protest but stopped after seeing either in her head or on my face that I wasn’t finished.

“I hardly know Edward. I don’t see how it could be possible for me to… develop any kind of… feelings for him. That’s entirely ridiculous. I mean, he’s… human! The only scenario that could potentially ever happen – which again, it’s absolutely implausible – would be if I were to accidentally change him. And even then, I mean, why would I-... He’s so… Ugh, just nevermind! That would be a complete mistake. A mistake greater than the one I made today. And I’m very sorry to you all for how I’ve mutilated the future with my actions, but I’m going to fix it. I’ll leave-”

“You can’t,” Alice and Esme interrupted at the same time. My sister’s tone was one of annoyance while my mother’s was one of concern.

“You’re right,” I nodded, but my agreement wasn’t for the reasons Alice meant. I wasn’t considering my capability to leave based on my own will power against leaving the boy behind. That was something too complicated to unpack here in front of my family. Something that’d be better dealt with on the floor with my arms wrapped around my knees. I wouldn’t leave because it’d be more crucial for me to stay now. The responsible thing to do. “But I’ll try to...I will stay away from Edward–” suddenly, I felt a desire to begin to distance myself from him and referring to him by his name felt too deeply personal, so I corrected myself, “–from the boy, I mean. It’s not right to condemn him to either fate. I won’t allow that to happen.”

As I spoke, Rosalie’s face softened and she materialized by my side, taking my hand.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve behaved today, Bella. I only spoke out of love for our family. But you’re right. It’s not right. And I’m glad you’re choosing to do the right thing by staying away. I still don’t feel as though trusting him is responsible, but if what Alice has said is true-”

“I’m sorry, too,” I cut her off quietly, not wanting to hear the rest. I was feeling sorry for so much more than just how I spoke to Rose.

Esme appeared behind me as well, placing her hand encouragingly on my shoulder. “We are here to support you, Bella.”

“Thanks,” I murmured unenthusiastically.

Nobody moved again as they waited to see what I’d do next. I felt like a zoo animal.

I sighed, releasing Rose’s hand and shaking off Esme.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to be by myself.”

“Of course,” Carlisle responded.

I crossed behind the west side of the table. Emmett let out a low, cartoony whistle of relief to break the tension, and I punched him on the arm as I passed. As I exited the room, Alice called, “wait!”

She was by my side in an instant.

“This is from the accident. It’s Edward’s. I thought maybe you’d want to return it to him.”

I looked down as she pulled my unresponsive hand away from my body to place the thick, chestnut journal I’d seen Edward reach for in his backseat right before the accident. I stared at her, impassive, so she sighed and wrapped my fingers around the worn leather to force it into my grip.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, turning and disappearing out of the house into the forest.

As I ran, I felt the weight of their eyes on me.

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