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tainted-wine · 5 years ago

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Tuning In Tonight

Present Mic x Reader (NSFW)

(A 10k story because I have no self-control. Here’s a fic about a troubled cafe employee that turns into a Mic fan and later SEX)

You soaked in the heat of your apartment after enduring the chilly walk back home from work. Wasting no time, you tossed your coat aside and kicked off your shoes before plopping onto the bed. Another week, another paycheck. Today was exceptionally busy at the cafe. Fridays always were, really, but today had put you to the test against quite the cast of characters. But even in the face of screaming kids with careless mothers, business people with absolutely no patience, and teens that didn’t think you were worth making eye contact with, you prevailed. You liked your job, even with the odd rough days. The staff was kind, the pay was fair, and the fact that it was smack-dab in the middle of the city means that it was visited by the occasional hero. Those were the days that filled you with joy, taking you back to the times when you dreamed of having the same career. But some things just weren’t meant to be. Your younger, more passionate self would chide you for accepting this life. For not using every breath in your body to ensure that you would one day become a hero that everyone remembered, but such persistence would only hurt you more in the long run. At least you were still able to find a comfortable living elsewhere. You settled with the cards you were dealt just fine, and yet that’s exactly what bothers you. Is it really okay to just give up and settle this after trying so hard? 'Nope, my mind’s not going anywhere near that rabbit hole today.' You sprang back up, heading to your room with extra pep in your step to undress and prepare a shower. The hot water soothed your tense body and cleared your mess of a mind. There was no room for any negative thoughts on a Friday night, the nights that you always look forward to the most, because it was time for the weekly radio show hosted by the lively pro hero Present Mic.

Your first experience with the show happened months ago, during a day where you were feeling extra exhausted for no particular reason. Turning on your old radio to lift your spirits, you happened to tune in just in time for the voice hero’s live caller segment. ‘Why not?’ you thought to yourself as you dialed the station's number and patiently listened to the rings. “Hey, thanks for calling, my dear listener! Hope you’ve been having a rockin’ day today!” There was something about having such an energetic and carefree voice directed to you that just brightened you up from inside. The conversation didn’t last very long, your sudden shyness being part of the reason why. It ended with you honoring the usual routine of requesting a song before disconnecting. As short as the encounter was, it left a strong impression, and you wanted it to happen again. Just like that, you became a loyal fan of Put Your Hands Up! radio. It was a great way to end work for the week, winding down and getting ready for the weekend as the station played a wide variety of tunes. And every time Mic was ready to take calls, your phone was ready to dial. You talked about whatever came to mind—how work was treating you, discussing his latest accomplishments as a pro hero, sharing silly events the two of you had in life. Whatever you discussed, no matter how mundane the topic, Mic always sounded eager to listen and respond with the boisterous voice he was known for. Even on the nights where you felt especially drained or under the weather, his unwavering enthusiasm never failed to clear the dark clouds over your head. In short, he was a lovable guy. So you relaxed and killed some time with the help of the internet and some phone games until that special hour arrived. You turned to the station and was greeted with the loud intro that took some getting used to. “Yeeeaaaahh! Present Mic here, and thank you for tuning in to Put Your Hands Up! Are they up? Because we’re about to get started!” And so begins the music that you swear is just a playlist of the hero’s personal favorites. You laid back on your bed and let your mind drift as the songs played. Your friends plan on meeting up for a movie tomorrow; can’t miss out on that. Maybe you’ll stop by the store afterwards so you can restock your fridge. What should you do Sunday? Meh, just make it a lazy day and hang around at home, you suppose. You returned to your phone and continued scrolling through your favorite websites. Time went by quicker than expected, Mic’s announcement of taking calls catching you by surprise. The first few calls were picked up by other listeners, doing the usual routine of sharing their day or talking about recent issues. Mic gave advice wherever he could, and his desire to help anyone who was willing to reach out to him felt so damn genuine that it made you smile. Another call was picked up before yours. Oh well. You listened to what ended up being a youthful male on the line. “H-hi, Mr. Present Mic!” The nervous yet excited voice was pretty heartwarming. A young teen, most likely.

Mic laughed. “No need for the ‘mister,’ listener! You’ll make me feel old!”

A bunch of frantic stuttering could be heard from the boy. “Ah, so sorry, sir—I mean mister—I mean Mic!” You giggled along with Mic as the poor boy tried to collect himself. “Deep breaths, little listener. What’s on that speedy little mind tonight?” “Well,” the boy had finally steadied himself. “I’ll be finishing middle school soon, and I’m ready to start training to be a hero. I just really hope I can get into U.A. and meet you! I wish you could be my English teacher!”

Awww. “Shucks, little guy. First, good job on finishing up middle school. I hope your parents have a rockin’ party ready for you! Second, you’ve got guts for aiming for the highest! Make sure you study and prepare, 'cause U.A. only accepts the best!” There was a pause on the other end. “So, is there a chance that I won’t make it?" “My little listener,” you could tell that there was a gentle expression on Mic’s face as he spoke. “There’s always a chance, so I want you to promise me one thing. If that chance hits you, don’t give up on your dream. Get the most out of whichever school accepts you. You know how many amazing heroes I met who came from schools with pretty lame reputations? There’s a lot of them, trust me. I’ve also met my share of cocky young heroes who rag on others just because they don’t have the fancy brand of U.A. or Shiketsu on their resume. That’s all it is, kid. A brand. Just because you couldn’t strike a deal with a major record label doesn’t mean your music career is already dead.” “Music?” the boy said in confusion. “But I’m not talking about mu—oh…metaphor.” Mic chuckled lightly. “There ya go, listener! Your language is doin’ fine. You don’t need me! But if you think you do, you know where to call me for another chat!” “I do!” the boy said happily. “Thank you, Present Mic! I promise I’ll keep doing my best!” You listened to the two talk for a little longer. The boy had some real determination and you admired it. He’ll hopefully reach his dream. You won’t wish ill will on others just because you didn’t reach yours. Giving everything you had and still not being enough was something no one deserved to experience. The boy had requested a rather angsty rock song that was trying really hard to sour your mood, but you’re not going to give the depressing vocalist what he wants. On the next segment, you internally rejoiced when you hear Mic’s voice in your ear. “Hey there, Mic.” “Oh? Is that my favorite lady listener I hear?” You giggled at the flattering question? “Maybe? I didn’t know you had favorites.” “Ah, you’re right! Not very professional of me! Don’t worry, listeners! I swear I love you all equally!” He boomed. It’s moments like this that taught you to keep your phone a fair distance away from your ear when you speak to the great voice hero himself. “So how’s the cafe treating you?” After so many talks, Mic had learned a few personal details about you, including your job and the area you worked in. He’s commented on how humble your life sounds; you didn’t disagree. “It’s been the same. Nothing new.” Your plan was to share one of your experiences with the more unruly customers today, but something else was weighing on your mind now. “Come on, girl. You’ve gotta have something spicy to share with us, don’t ya?” “Actually,” the last call was really sticking to you for some reason, you couldn’t help but let it slip out. “I want to say that what you told that boy was very sweet. And I was wondering…” Your voice caught in your throat. “I was wondering…” ‘Is it okay to give up?’ You didn’t want to say that. ‘What if you sacrifice everything you have, but still fail?’ You don’t tune in to be a downer. ‘Did you know that I was like that boy once?’ You talk to Present Mic to feel good. “Wondering what? You still with me, listener?” Mic asked. The concern in his voice urged you to spit something out already. “I was wondering exactly which pro heroes you knew personally. You said that you’ve met a lot,” you lied. You weren’t wondering that at all. Still, you won’t mind hearing his answer. “Ha! Where do I even start? Now’s the perfect time for some free promotion for the awesome heroes out there that deserve some sweet limelight! Let me start with a cool guy named Koi. He’s pretty new to the scene and works on the coast.” He went on and on about many lesser known heroes you weren’t familiar with at all, but that made the information all the more intriguing. He spoke highly of each person, listing their accomplishments and how hard they worked to get where they are. As always, he managed to perk you back up. You made a mental note to look up these heroes later. “Whoa whoa, record scratch, guys! The lady’s got me rambling for way too long. Trying to soak up all the time, are ya?” He sneered in the most light-hearted way. You laughed innocently. “Of course not! You were being so passionate about every hero that you mentioned, I didn’t have it in me to stop you.” “Well, I’ll forgive you just this once! You know how to end it. Hit me with that request!” The rest of the broadcast carried on through the night as a drowsiness began to creep on you. You listened to the last of the songs while getting cozy under your sheets. “Time to finally put those hands down! It’s been a blast, listeners! I hope you’re ready to rock with me next time! Good night!” You switched off the radio and finally allowed yourself to drift off. ‘Good night.’ ——— The weekend had flown by. Before you knew it, it was back to business at the cafe. You were always thankful for not being part of the morning shift on Mondays, your co-workers sharing horror stories of the tired and moody zombies demanding complicated orders as quickly as possible. Your shift started at noon. The day was going by smoothly, no wrenches thrown into your usual pattern. Small talk with the customers, impressing the regulars by guessing their orders correctly, practicing your latte art, it was a meditative cycle for you. By the time the sun was down with no recent customers, you were ready to start cleaning up. The place closes in less than twenty minutes and the rest of the staff was sitting around patiently. A ring at the door alerted you all to the sight of a man briskly walking in, gripping at his overcoat as he recovered from the cold outdoors. “Welcome sir,” you greeted while heading to your position behind the counter. The other workers gave their own welcome and followed suit. “Hey!” He said loudly. “Didn’t mean to barge in like that. It’s cold enough tonight without all of this wind.” The voice made you pause. The man approaching you had blonde hair pinned up into a messy bun, some stray locks hanging freely. He adjusted his glasses as he flashed you a smile. That voice…and paired with his appearance…there was no doubt about it. 'Present Mic?' “Heh, looks like I’ve been exposed already!” Mic said with a chuckle. You placed a hand over your mouth, not realizing you had said his name out loud. “Sorry, it’s just really nice to meet you in person. I’m a fan.” You thought you saw him pause as well, eyes widening for a brief moment before asking, “Are you, now? And have we talked before, dear fan?” His voice was calmer than what you were used to hearing on his show. “We have, on the radio. Quite a few times, actually,” you admitted. And with that, his smile was enhanced to blinding levels. “My favorite lady listener! I thought I recognized that sweet voice!” Mic didn’t seem to respond to your blush and kept going. “I remember you said that you worked around here, but I sure didn’t expect to bump into you!” “Well, fate’s treating us both well tonight. I can’t properly express how excited I am to meet you while on the job. What can I get you tonight?” You hid behind your professionalism and waited for his order. Mic rubbed at his chin and pondered. “Well, I’ve been convinced by word-of-mouth that you guys have some yummy pastries. What do you think will go well with some hot cocoa?” Fortunately, the cafe’s menu was practically branded into your mind, so even the presence of a pro hero isn’t enough to make you draw a blank. “I’d personally recommend one of our warm treats. Maybe you’d like to try our filled croissants? The strawberry one is my favorite.” “Mmm, sounds delish. I trust you,” His grins were seriously trying to make you melt. “Hit me up with a cocoa and a strawberry croissant for here!” After taking his order, Mic seated himself at a table to wait for his sugary meal. As you prepared his chocolate and croissant, you couldn’t resist stealing an occasional glance at him. He was studying the cute decorations that littered the place and gently bobbing his head to the indie music playing through the speakers, but the two of you happened to lock eyes once, forcing you to immediately look away. Whenever you saw him in the media, his eyes were usually obscured by the orange shades that went with his hero outfit. Now you realize just how green they are, almost as if they glowed. It didn’t take long to prepare his order, and you decided to grant him the special treatment of delivering the food to his table. There was no one else to serve, after all. “Hey,” he said. “Would you mind sitting down with me?” Your heart fluttered. “Not at all, Mic.” You pulled back the chair opposite to him and took a seat. “Call me Hizashi.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Present Mic is always too busy for a snack break.” “Of course, Hizashi.” You listened to Hizashi’s compliments on the food and drink, trying not to stare as he ate. You were always so sure that he couldn’t possibly be as loud and lively as his hero persona, and you were mostly right, but even now as he dined at a simple cafe, he still somehow radiated a cheerful and positive energy. The warm feeling you got from hearing him on the radio was dwarfed by what you currently feel now that you are seeing him in person. He had eaten the last of the flaky bread before speaking again. “You know, now that you’re right here in the flesh, I gotta ask you something that’s been bothering me since my last show.” Lime green eyes peered into yours as he idly stirred the cup of chocolate. “Were you alright that night? You sounded…conflicted when we were talking.” A lump caught in your throat. You didn’t expect something like that to stick with him. Surely he had more important matters to worry about. “Don’t worry about it,” you answered. “I just had silly things crossing my mind at the moment.” Hizashi took a sip, his eyes not leaving you. “Alright, I don’t wanna pry. I know you’re a grown woman, but I do like helping people. It’s my favorite part of all three of my jobs.” His smile never faded since he walked in here and man, you weren’t used to him looking or sounding so soft. You sat there silently, fighting internally as you tried to decide whether or not to confess. The pro hero waited, drinking and showing no signs of impatience. Your hands gripped at your apron as you took a breath. “I wanted to be a hero.” The only sort of reaction you noticed were his raising eyebrows. “Ah,” he murmured. “Do you still want to be a hero?” A beat of silence. “…No.” Hizashi watched, probably waiting for you to say more, but you still didn’t know how much you wanted to share. “Does that bother you?” He asked. You nodded. “I’d like to hear why, listener.” Hearing the term you were so used to on his show lifted some of the pressure. Ironically, he was probably the best listener out of anyone that tuned in. You straightened your posture and swallowed. “Then I should probably start from the beginning.” And so you let it all spill. How you once had the same glorious dream as so many other children. You explained all of the time and effort you put into the tests and exams, but it was never enough, and your quirk always failed to impress spectators. You had family and friends that supported you for so long, had sacrificed so much to make this happen, but when you realized that your pursuit was leading you to homelessness, you accepted defeat. Hizashi paid close attention, only making a small comment here and there, but he waited for you to finish to say anything more. “I’m sorry you couldn’t get there,” he said sympathetically. “It’s fine.” You were looking down at your lap, unable to hold his gaze throughout most of the story. “I recovered pretty well. It’s nice here.” He hummed and leaned back in his seat. “That’s good! Not everyone can bounce back from that. Sounds like it’s still bothering you, though. Are you sure you don’t want to try again? I’m more than happy to help you out.” You shook your head at the generous offer. This man was too kind. “Thanks, but that’s alright. I’m happy where I am, it’s just that…” You paused as you tried to form the frustration you’ve felt for years into words. “I had put my whole life into this, gave up everything I had, and…and I don’t have anything to show for it, you know? Feels like the biggest waste.” “Yeah, maybe it was.” His blunt admittance surprised you. “But when you realized you weren’t getting anywhere, you stopped before you hit rock bottom. I know some students of mine who wouldn’t have that self-control.” He gave a soft snort at the thought. “Hell, when everyday is such a painful climb, you forget if there’s even anything waiting for you at the top. Maybe you would’ve reached the peak just to finally keel over.” You nodded along with his feedback. It wasn’t anything new; you’ve comforted yourself with similar words, albeit with less metaphors. And yet, your pesky mind couldn’t accept such logic. “But people don’t like quitters.” Hizashi kept going, arms crossed and staring intensely at his empty plate. “Because quitting apparently means that you’re weak, not that you were smart enough to see that you’re just hurting yourself at a certain point. Man, you know how many people wouldn’t be stuck doing stuff that they hate if this mindset didn’t exist? I know a guy who finally won the heart of the heroine of his dreams, and I was like, ‘Awesome, dude!’” You watched with mild amusement as Hizashi’s volume was slowly rising along with his increasingly animated movements. “But surprise! Turns out that she makes for the world’s worst girlfriend! The poor guy is in his own little hell, but he’s wanted this gal for soooo long and he’s still soooo sure that they’re fated to be together. If I used my quirk to scream at the guy to break it off already, he’d still manage to ignore me!” A snicker nearby caught both of your attentions, turning to see the other staff members looking very entertained by his storytelling. Hizashi coughed out of awkwardness and shuffled in his seat. “You, uh, you get what I’m saying?” His voice returned to a calm tone. “Yeah, I get it,” You replied. “I never considered all of that. Sucks for your friend, but I understand the feeling. It must be frustrating to watch from the outside, too.” “Oh yeah, it is.” He sighed and rested his face in one of his hands. “I know they say that you can’t save people that don’t want to be saved, but it’s not gonna keep me from trying. Good to know that you climbed out of that hole yourself. Well, almost.” He finished off the now-lukewarm chocolate. “Your dream died, so handle it like any other death. Mourn and move on. Dwelling on it or thinking about everything you could have done differently is irrational.” You heard him mutter something under his breath, something about someone rubbing off on him too much. The gears turn in your head. Your eyes wonder to a small stain on the table as Hizashi’s advice breaks through your somber barrier. Mourn and move on.

“I’ll try,” You’re shocked by how dry your throat suddenly is. The sound of sweeping and chairs scraping across the floor makes you snap your head to the clock. It was past closing time! “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” You didn’t even know if you were apologizing to Hizashi or your co-workers. “I lost track of time! Let me get that for you.” You took his trash before he could respond and quickly joined the others to clean up. “Sorry about that,” one of your friends said. “I guess we all got caught up in your cute little talk.” “Do you have to eavesdrop on every table in this place?” You asked with no real malice. Pretty much the whole staff has a fondness for gossip; perhaps it was just a side effect of working such a job. “Oh, you know me. Why do you even ask?” she laughed. You focused on cleaning the tables as Hizashi stood and straightened out his clothes. You hoped that he wouldn’t leave just yet. His pep talk was appreciated and you wanted to thank him properly before your bus got here. Your bus that was scheduled to arrive ten minutes ago. 'Oh shit!' “My bus! I have to—dammit! I gotta go!” You dashed into the back to gather your belongings and grab your bag. Hizashi and the others looked too stunned by your burst of speed as you exited the cafe and rushed to the bus stop, the biting cold having little effect on your adrenaline-filled body. 'Maybe the bus is late too. Maybe I can still make it.' Your sprint slowed down the moment you saw your ride home already speeding away. It was too late to catch up. You could only watch as the large vehicle drove out of sight, dropping onto the stop’s bench as you caught your breath. Wonderful. This is what you get for getting too comfortable with one of your customers, hero or not. “Hey!” Speak of the devil. You turned to the sight of Hizashi jogging around the corner and toward you. “Man, you move pretty fast.” He caught up to you and took in your tired and defeated form. “And by the looks of it, you still weren’t fast enough.” A loud groan escaped you. “It’s no big deal, really. Another one arrives in about thirty minutes.” “Ah, think you can wait that long in this cold?” A shiver ran through your body immediately after his question. Wow, it really was freezing tonight. You shrugged your shaking shoulders. “I’ll have to. It’s still better than walking.” “Or maybe I can take you home?” Your head snaps back to him. Did you hear that right? “You…you want to take me home?” You repeated. That radiant smile returns to his face and adds another wave of trembles to your body. “I help where I can, and I’m kinda the reason you missed it in the first place. It’s the least I can do for such a loyal listener.” You hesitate, your still-harsh breaths forming misty clouds. You trusted him, no doubt about that. No, what was making you hesitate were his tender expressions that were illuminated by the nearby streetlight, and his lax and inviting posture as he waited for your answer with his hands tucked in his coat, and the realization that Yamada Hizashi was pretty damn handsome. Pure hot red was rushing up to your face. Surely that was the cold’s fault. “That sounds great,” you uttered before you could even stop yourself. “Alright! Come on, then. I’m totally not dressed to be standing out here for long.” You followed him back to the cafe where an old-fashioned Ford mustang was parked. ‘Classy.' Your co-workers were watching you enter his car, some with smirks or giving you a thumbs-up. ‘Perverts. It’s not like that.’ At least, you didn’t think it was. The drive home was calming. The radio played lowly as background music while you gave him directions to your apartment. You kept sneaking a peek at him from the corner of your vision, a peaceful look on his face as his fingers tapped on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. He seemed to be the type that hated complete silence; you didn’t mind. The streets were fairly empty, so it didn’t take too long to reach your complex. Hizashi pulled up and parked. “Welp, here’s your stop!” He announced as he hit you with another knockout smile. “Thanks for taking the Present Mic Express, listener.” You removed your seat belt, but made no further movements. “Thank you, Hizashi. For the ride…and the talk. You’ve helped me a lot today.” You say as you dare to look into his hypnotizing irises. He shrugged at your gratitude. “I’m just a customer who was in need of a nighttime snack and met a special gal that turned out to be even greater in person.” It took everything in your power not to cover your face like a flustered schoolgirl, instead breaking eye contact as you felt the heat return to your cheeks. “Thanks, you’re pretty great too.” You shuffled a bit as you both sat in silence. “I’m leaving now.”

“Okay.” You stayed where you were, staring at the door handle like it was the last thing you might ever touch. “I can’t wait to talk to you again on your show.” “Ditto.” “Alright…I’m leaving now.” “You already said that.” You squirmed some more. ‘Come on, you probably just look creepy at this point. Hurry the hell up and say something.’ “Is there something else you wanna tell me?” There was a small hint of amusement in his voice, and you gathered the courage to look at him again, shocked to see that his friendly smile had shifted into something a little more smug. It was probably safe to say that he’s reading the atmosphere pretty well. ‘Then just go for it.’

“Do you…do you want to come inside me—” FUCK. “Come inside with me! Do you want to come inside with me?!” You were practically shouting the invitation in a feeble attempt to hide your slip-up. Hizashi threw his head back and cackled. “I’d love to, sweetheart! No need to be shy about it. I don’t bite.” You still sat there as the car turned off, his casual acceptance putting you into a stupor. Which version of the question was he even saying yes to? Whichever one it was, he had just accepted your offer to sleep together. You hadn’t been with anyone in years, and now you suddenly do this? A rush of cold wind hit you when he opened his door. “Come on, unless you planned on doing it in the car?” He laughed when you furiously shook your head. “Good. As much as I love my old girl, she’s probably not very comfortable for something like that.” You only shivered in response as you finally stepped out of his car and joined his side to guide him to your place. All it took was an elevator and a quick walk down the hall to reach your door. It was a little embarrassing to bring a pro hero into your small single-bedroom apartment. It had all of the essentials for a comfortable living, but there wasn’t much room for luxuries. You both kicked off your shoes at the entrance before you hurried to organize some stray clothes and bags. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting guests.” “No worries,” Hizashi didn’t seem to mind as he got comfortable on a chair near your kitchen area and scanned the place. “This is nice.” You snorted at the comment. “I suppose,” you murmured. “It’s nothing worth praising.” “What, finding a place to stay after running yourself down for years? I think that deserves some praise,” he says so matter-of-factually. That was a really admirable way to put it. “Thank you.” “Mmhmm,” he hummed, watching you finish replacing your things. Now you’re just standing here, not sure what to do next. How do you even start this? Your only experience was a clumsy one with a friend way back. “Well, we can’t do much at this distance, can we?” He says lightly as he gestures you to come closer. You comply and take his offered hand, letting him gently tug you down and onto his lap. He positioned you sideways, your legs laid out over his and making you look and feel like a nervous child. His face was so close, those green eyes looking shinier than ever. “You’ve done this before, right?” His warm breath brushes against your face as he speaks. “Yeah, I have,” you paused and wondered if you should tell him more. Hizashi was getting to know you more than you ever intended. “With a friend some years ago…it was a mess. Two virgins that had no idea what they were doing.” You laughed at the memory. “Heh, I feel you on that one. My first wasn’t the most dignified moment either.” You felt his body shake with his chuckle. His hand was still holding yours, thumb pressing against the space between your knuckles in a sort of massage. The feeling soothed you as his free hand came up to remove his glasses, your body shifting with his as he set them down close by. “In fact, your boy used to be a one pump wonder!” He smiled at your bewildered reaction to the information. “Hey, it’s not my fault sex feels so awesome!” You giggled into his shoulder. He spoke to you with such familiarity that it was impossible to stay anxious. It was why you enjoyed talking to him on the radio, but you never imagined it being the same during a scenario as intimate as this. “Hey, Don’t laugh at me! I’ve gotten better!” He said in mock anger. “And lucky for you, you get to see just how much. Welcome to my private show, listener.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that was more comical than seductive. A hand gently held the back of your head, and you let it pull you in to press your lips against his. You closed your eyes and savored the feeling, his lips softer than expected. Your kisses were timid, giving little more than lingering pecks, and Hizashi patiently returned them, slowly adding more pressure and passion as encouragement. The feel of a tongue swiping against your lips made you squeak in shock, getting a chuckle out of him. “That was adorable,” he teased, his voice suddenly at a lower pitch that made you shudder. “You startled me,” you retorted before returning to the kiss, this time with your lips parted to grant him entry. He caught you off guard again by sucking lightly at your lips instead, forcing a gasp out of you before slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your own muscle shyly met his, stroking each other in a lazy dance. His hands moved to hold your face and he’s doing it so tenderly. A hot desire is flowing through your veins from his kisses alone; you can only imagine what else he has in store for you. After a few more wet smacks, the two of you finally parted to catch your breaths, you especially. “Wow,” you couldn’t help but gasp. Hizashi gave a breathless laugh. “Getting overwhelmed already? We haven’t even taken any clothes off yet.” He wasn’t as composed as he let on, a red flush spreading across his face. The hands holding your face moved down to wrap around your waist as he moved his kisses down to your jaw. You sighed and tilted your head back to give him access to your neck, burying your fingers in his hair as you felt him lick and suck at your pulse. Beneath the smooth locks you felt a pin that held his sloppy bun together. “Hizashi? Can I-ah,” a hard suck on your sensitive throat forces you to pause. “Can I…your hair?” You tapped at the pin to get your point across. “Go ahead,” he groaned against your neck, not even slowing his assault as you pulled the small clip out and watched his golden locks fall to his shoulders. He purred to the feeling of you combing through his hair like fine threads. “It’s really pretty,” you whispered, still shivering from the love that he was showering on your skin. He pulls away from your neck. “Are you saying my hair isn’t always pretty? Trying to hurt Mic’s feelings?” He said with a pout. He looked all the hotter with his long hair draping the sides of his face. “Not at all! I think Mic makes for a handsome cockatoo,” you jest with a smirk. “Heh, you got jokes, huh? We’ll see who’s laughing once I get these annoying clothes out of the way.” He double tapped your thigh. “Up.” You stood up and watched him follow instantly, noticing the bulge that was beginning to grow beneath his pants. You quickly tore your eyes away from it. “Hold on a minute, I know what we’re missing.” He reached into his coat pocket and retrieved his phone. You waited, wondering what he could possibly need on his phone right now. A few taps later, a smooth melody began playing from the device. “Oh yeah, I’m feelin’ it already.” He set the phone down and shut his eyes, getting a feel for the beat of the sensual R&B song. This man was unreal. “You have…a lovemaking playlist?” You uttered while watching him get into a groove. “I’ve got a playlist for a lot of things, baby. Nothing sets the mood like a good tune. Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll go first.” And so he began his slow movements, swaying and bouncing in rhythm to the music, pulling his coat back and shrugging it off in a steady and seductive manner, tossing it aside. Watching a personal strip show of one of your favorite heroes was both hilarious and hot. On one hand, he was giving you playful and goofy faces while lip-singing to the sensual vocals. On the other, ‘I’ll be damned,’ you thought, because he really did know how to move his body and was successfully captivating you. His hips were moving in slow circles as he grabbed the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and revealing his impressively lean torso. ‘Oh, his hero outfit doesn’t do his body justice.’ You were so impressed by the chest and the abs that were just thick enough to be visible, you didn’t notice him struggling to pull the shirt off of his head. With his top completely bare, he smoothed a hand down his hair and leered at you with a slow lick over his lip. “Liking what you see, baby?” How the hell did his voice get so deep? Why was he being so sexy right now? Your throat was dry all of a sudden, so you simply nodded. “Good.” His hands ran over his chest, making sure you were watching them before they began an agonizingly slow descent, tracing over hard lines, his muscles rippling with the mesmerizing thrust of his hips, a sight so erotic that you wanted to look away, but just couldn’t. With the buttons and zipper quickly undone, his thumbs hooked beneath his pants and began to pull down and oh shit he was pulling at his boxers too. You were really about to see it and you didn’t know if you were ready, but your eyes remained glued to his waist as his masculine v-line and a neat trail of blonde curls was revealed, your breathing getting heavier with the knowledge that he was only centimeters away from revealing his… “Naaaah, I’ll leave these on for now.” Just like that, his voice returned to his loud and cheerful pitch, pants readjusted and no longer on the brink of revealing his manhood. Confused, you look back up to see an infuriatingly innocent face staring back at you. A pang of disappointment hits you hard; Hizashi had just teased you big time. “Your turn.” You stood there awkwardly, having no idea where to even start. “I…uh…” You try to get into rhythm with the song and already feel like a fool. “I’m not much of a dancer. Can I just undress?” You felt a little bad. You didn’t want to kill the mood just because you didn’t know how to be as light and silly as him. Hizashi casually approached in all of his topless glory. “Don’t stress, girl. The stage and spotlight ain’t for everyone,” he empathized. Slender fingers took hold of the bottom of your shirt, and he looked into your eyes for silent permission. You gave a slow nod of approval and lifted your arms so that he could smoothly remove your first article of clothing. He discarded the shirt quickly to lay his hands on your bare waist, tracing over your soft and sensitive skin, making you jump slightly. “That tickles,” you snickered. “Sorry, sorry.” His hands went higher until they reached your bra, fumbling with the clasp at your back. “Mind helping me out? I still haven’t mastered these contraptions,” he asked through gritted teeth. The fully concentrated face for removing an undergarment was a real hoot, but you showed mercy and joined his hands to undo the fastening and pulled the straps down your arms. With how hard he was staring at your exposed breasts, it took everything in your power not to cover yourself, keeping your arms at your sides. “Damn. You’re gorgeous, you know that?” He spoke softly, giving feather-light touches over the mounds of flesh. “Can’t believe you’re giving me the honor of seeing you like this.” You warmed over at the praise and his touch, a thumb brushing lightly over your nipple. “You…look really good too,” you complimented back, your own hands coming up as you considered exploring his body. Hizashi noticed your hesitation and took a hold of your wrists. “You can check me out with more than your eyes, babe,” he says with a wink, and then places your hands right onto his hot and hard chest. ‘Woah.’ You swear that your heart stopped for several seconds. Hands slightly trembling, you run them slowly over his firm pecs, listening to his quickening breaths as you went lower to feel his abs. Present Mic was never really on your list of sexy heroes. You never bothered to imagined what the rowdy guy looked like underneath that superstar getup. ‘Shame on me, I suppose.’ The hero quietly reveled in your touch as he returned to your breasts, kneading them gently to bring out soft moans from you. There was something extra close and affectionate about just feeling each other, hands caressing and pressing every inch of both of your bodies. Your first time wasn’t this slow and steady; you and your partner were too embarrassed by so much clumsy fumbling that you ended up rushing to the main act. An arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer, a pair of lips speaking right next to your ear. “To the bed.” The song currently playing had a much more raunchy vibe to it, matching the growing intensity of the room as Hizashi gently pushed you back onto the mattress so that he could peer down and take in your body from above. You felt even more vulnerable in this position, but the man’s gaze, although lustful, was still gentle and nothing to be afraid of. You had enough courage to take his face and bring him down for another kiss, lips moving more boldly this time. Hizashi smiled behind the kiss, but had other plans and trailed downward, picking up where he left off during the first make-out. He licked a wet trail across your neck, wasting no time in reaching your breasts and peppering one with kisses, the slightly ticklish sensation filling you with pleasurable tingles. Too modest to watch him shower your body with love, you instead closed your eyes and focused on the feeling as the naughty music played on. The wetness of a tongue was flicking across your nipple, making your breath hitch, but it was the complete engulfment of wet heat that made your eyes fly open to the sight of him hungrily sucking at you like he was being nursed. You could still feel his tongue swirling around your nipple in the wet cavern of his mouth. It felt so good, bringing forth an ache within your lower body. “Ah, Hizashi…more…” Your plea came out as a shuddering moan. “Patience, babe,” he panted before switching to your other breast and giving it the same delicious treatment. Soon he continued his trek downwards, kissing at your stomach and playfully dipping his tongue into your navel. “Alright, time for these pants to go.” You lifted your hips to help him pull them off, nervous but so desperate to feel him touch you more. Surprisingly, he left your panties on and placed his lips right on your hipbone, making you twitch. The kisses wandered to your thighs, taking his time in enjoying the texture of your flesh as he licked, sucked, and gave the occasional nip to make you jump. You can feel the hot desire in your core building up as he got closer to your mound, your insides throbbing in anticipation, ready to be probed and explored already. Finally his face was right at your clothed pussy, a sinful grin forming as he observed the very damp spot. You were ready for him to finally remove the last barrier that prevented your bodies from joining. What you weren’t ready for was the shock of his tongue pressing against the thin cotton and licking at you like it wasn’t even there. Even with the shaky gasp that escaped you, you felt mortified. “H-Hizashi? What are—that’s—ohhh.” His lips managed to close right around your protected clit, the feeling muted but still powerful, but this was all so new to you. It’s one thing to fantasize having someone put their mouth there, but to actually…! Hizashi halted his ministrations and looked up at you. “What is it? Did I do something wrong?” The panic in your breathless voice probably worried him a bit. You didn’t want him to think that he screwed up, it’s just that…ugh, you didn’t even know! “I, uh, you don’t have to do that, really,” you stammered. The pure confusion on his face was unexpected. “What? Go down on you? I love doin’ that, babe. You don’t?”

You were tempted to grab a pillow and hide your face. “I…don’t know. No one’s ever done that to me.” “Oh?” He tilted his head, resting on one of your thighs as he watched you curiously. “Well this guy would love to do it to you. May I?” ‘Yes. Yes, please do it.’ You just couldn’t be as shameless as your inner thoughts, so the most you could do was squeak, “If you want.” Hizashi rubbed soothing circles around your inner thighs. “I’ll just give you a sample, alright? You just lie back and feel it. Actually…” He raised himself and took a hold of your hips, tugging you to the edge of the bed. He was now kneeling on the floor with your legs hanging over his shoulders. Even with your panties still on, you never felt more exposed. His mouth was back on you in an instant, licking long stripes up your covered womanhood. You could feel your heated lust, could feel your juices seeping out to mix with the saliva that was coating your ravaged underwear. But it didn’t look like Hizashi planned on letting up on his assault anytime soon, pressing his face against you as if he was craving your nectar from the source, but insisted on holding himself back. As you whimpered from the wet grazes and your growing arousal, you realized that this just wasn’t going to be enough. “Please,” you whined. “I need more.” “More?” The hero’s voice was husky, and the wicked look he was giving you wasn’t helping matters at all. “What do you want more of?” Your knuckles were turning white from how hard you were clutching the sheets beneath you. “You! Your mouth! Please, take them off!” “You like what my mouth does, baby?” He gave you a quick lick. “Yes.” “You wanna feel more of it?” “Yes, please!” You begged. “Wanna feel my tongue push inside your pussy?” The sudden vulgarity of his words made you clench. “Y-yes.” A finger runs up and down your slit, the cloth’s texture doing nothing but irritating you at this point. “Good, because your taste and smell is driving me wild.” His fingers hooked around the lace and, thank the gods above, finally pulled them off, sticky strands of your arousal being pulled along with it. Repositioning himself, he used his thumbs to spread you open and take a good look at you. ‘Oh God, that’s a bit much.’ You shut your eyes to avoid his invasive ones that were looking straight inside of you. Just before he dove in, a new track began to play. “Oooooh shit, I love this song!” You looked to see Hizashi on the verge of jumping up in excitement. After being so turned on, you managed to forget that he’s a dork. “They’re just asking me to go all-out on you, aren’t they? Get ready, sweetheart. I’m about to send you to heaven.” Your breathing quickened as he leaned in, suddenly understanding that his teasing was just to make you extra sensitive to the real deal, because his breath alone was sending pleasant shocks through you. The first long lick up your sex already had you moaning loudly. A pair of hands held your hips down to prevent you from bucking too wildly, thighs quivering on his shoulders as he hungrily lapped at you. Among the indecent sounds between your legs, you also noticed the song’s lyrics were describing the very act Hizashi was performing right now, his mouth working more vigorously whenever the singer expressed the desire to lick a girl, to make her cum all week. He was avoiding your clit, giving full attention to your sopping folds, sucking on them loudly before deciding to plunge his tongue straight inside of your pussy. The intruding muscle had you squirming against his hold, rubbing against your walls and pushing into you as far as possible. You noticed that Hizashi’s eyes were closed in bliss, giving soft moans as if this was bringing him just as much pleasure. Whatever the case, the sight of him enjoying himself so much was something you’ll be seeing in your erotic dreams for weeks, maybe months to come. You lost control of the sounds leaving your body as the pleasing heat grew, tongue thrusting in and out of your body, his nose pressing against your neglected clit. The thorough tongue-fucking was bringing you so close to the edge. Hizashi released a long and deep moan and…you don’t even understand what happened next. The sound sent the mother of all vibrations bouncing throughout your insides, forcing you into a violent convulsion of an orgasm. You didn’t hear your own scream, the music, or see Hizashi’s amazed expression when you tightened your legs around his head in a vice-like grip. Everything was suddenly muted save for the tremors wracking your entire being without mercy, pleasure pouring over you so strongly that it was frightening. Your surroundings slowly took shape again as you came down from your high, panting and waiting for your limbs to become responsive again. A hand brushed stray hairs away from your face, and you saw a very pleased hero laying beside you. “You alright, baby? You know where you are?” He asked jokingly. “Yeah,” you breathed. “How many fingers am I holding up?” “Shut up.” You swung your weak arm and smacked him in the chest. “What the hell did you do to me?” “Sometimes I use my quirk to add a little kick,” he explained while rolling onto his side, giving your damp face a quick peck. “All it takes is a bass boost to soak the dancefloor, am I right? Though maybe that was too much. I didn’t know whether to be turned on or scared with the way you were spazzing out. Hope your neighbors didn’t think you were being murdered.” You shrunk into yourself. “Oh. Sorry,” you mumbled. You watched his hand casually explore your sensitive skin, catching a glimpse of the bulge in his pants that was more prominent than ever. “Your…” You gestured to his groin. He looked down at his stiff predicament and huffed. “Ah, yeah. It’s kinda been killin’ me. You good to keep going, babe?” How could you possibly say no after the ride he’s given you? “Yes, of course.” You moved to get up, but he gently pushes down on you. “Stay right here. I just need a minute.” The bed shifts with the loss of his weight and you watch him grab his discarded coat, fishing for something in its pockets and mumbling about something that he always keeps around, until you hear a little “a-ha” as he triumphantly holds up a condom. “Safety first~,” he says in a sing-song voice. Wow, he’s a prepared guy. Disobeying his orders, you raised yourself to sit upright. “Can I do the honors?” You asked. Honestly, you were just curious to see what he had in store for you down there. Hizashi looked surprised but pleased. “Be my guest!” he said excitedly, removing the wrapper while approaching you. The tent in his pants just sat there in front of you, begging to finally be released. “So, do you want me to finish my little show, or do you want to be the one to take’em off?” He watched your face intently as he thumbed at the band of his pants. You gulped loudly. He clearly wanted this night to be all about you, but he deserved some attention. “I’ll do it.” You whispered, taking a delicate hold of his pants to pull them down and revealing an intricately designed pair of boxers. Colorful urban-style shapes and characters covered the underwear, art that you would expect to see on the city’s walls. Any other time, you would take a moment to appreciate the impressive work, but you had a horny man to take care of. With a shaky tug, his final clothing was removed and the freed erection sprang out and smacked you in the face. The horrified ‘eep!’ and the utterly offended look you were giving his cock had Hizashi cracking up. “Shit, I’m sorry, babe!” He choked between breaths. “I guess I should have given you a heads up!” You were too embarrassed to even respond or look him in the eye. “Hey now, I promise he won’t hurt you again.” He gave you a pat on a head like a grumpy child and held out the condom to you. You silently took it and observed his manhood with a cautious look, as if it would somehow lash out and strike you again. He was pretty long; while his girth didn’t look too intimidating, you doubt that he can fit all of his length into you. It twitched when your fingers wrapped around it, rubbing up and down the soft yet firm organ and earning some sharp breaths from Hizashi. You finally attempted working with the music, stroking to match the same slow tempo. You took the lubricated protection and placed it over his swollen head, your other hand keeping up your rhythmic pumping as you pulled it down, stroking every uncovered inch until he was fully sheathed. “Fuck, girl. That was sexy,” Hizashi had watched your performance with lustful wonder. “You really don’t give yourself enough credit.” The praise excited you in more ways than one. His hands were on your shoulders and pushing you back down with him climbing on top, returning you both to your earlier positions. One hand reached between your legs and slipped a finger between your folds, dipping inside to sample your wetness. “Are you ready for me, baby?” His voice returned to that low raspy tone that had you throbbing for him all over again. Your nodding was so frantic that you made him laugh at your eagerness—your want has overpowered your doubts. He takes hold of himself and places the tip right at your entrance, your heart racing in anticipation to be filled. A sudden kiss distracts you. It was the deepest kiss he’s given you, lips practically holding yours prisoner while his tongue curled around yours. Breathy moans left both of your mouths. You were being effectively distracted until you felt the sharp burn of being stretched, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck while he pushed inside as slowly as he could. He drank up your whimpers and you consumed his growls of restraint. Every inch felt like it went on forever, hot and pulsing and overwhelming, yet your greedy pussy clamped down and sucked him in until you were completely filled. Hizashi stayed there, finally detaching his lips so that he could study your face. Those green eyes that enchanted you at the cafe for their warmth and kindness were now glazed over with something raw and insatiable. Such a look made you tighten around him, savoring the groan he gave in response. Your legs wrapped around his waist as the signal to start moving, and he complied with a slow and shallow pace. The friction was already creating another burning knot in your core. The other time someone was inside you like this…there was pleasure then as well, but it was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to a partner who knew how to properly prepare your body and keep your mind at ease. Hizashi’s hair was draped all around you, creating a romantic enclosure of just him and you, everything else in the room feeling so far away. His thrusts were getting stronger, your heat and tightness making it too difficult for him to keep things slow. You didn’t protest and took every electrifying stroke with a helpless cry. Even with all of the sounds you were making, you dare say that the man above you was being even louder. “Ah…fuck…oh, baby you feel so fucking good. Oh yeah, fucking squeeze me just like that,” his language also became a lot more colorful, apparently. Concerning volume aside, his words only added to your pleasure. Your heels dug into him, pushing him deeper inside and brushing against that spongy bundle of nerves that had you writhing. “Shit, thanks sweetheart. Been lookin’ for that spot.” He pants with a mischievous smile across his sweaty face. With a particularly hard slam that makes you see white, he slows down and starts a deep grind. “Ah! Hizashi!” You weren’t prepared for such powerful stimulation, his dick hitting your sweet spot while his pelvis rolls against your clit. He elevates himself for a better angle, forcing you to disentangle from his neck and instead fumble desperately at his arms. The hot tension was tightening at an alarming rate with the pleasure he was giving to both of your most sensitive spots. Your gaze constantly switched between Hizashi biting his lip in a sexy focused expression to his contracting muscles as his hips press and rub against every inch of your cunt. Your nerves could only handle the sensual onslaught for so long—it didn’t take long before they were all set ablaze and reduced you into a trembling mess with your back arched and mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Sure, it wasn’t a heart-stopping climax like the one he gave you with his mouth, but the simultaneous spasms of your clit and innermost walls was its own amazing experience that had you melting into a blissful puddle. “Mmm, that’s it. That’s a good girl,” Hizashi groaned in approval. Your orgasm was still rippling through you when he buried his face into the crook of your neck and returned to his rutting, now at a much faster pace. Tears pricked at your eyes from the overstimulation. Your own choked sobs were smothered by the most intense moans you’ve ever heard sounding right in your ear. “You’re so amazing, baby…so damn beautiful.” How the fuck did he sound so sweet even when he’s on the verge of nutting? This hero has given you more than he even realized. He’s given you his company and joy every Friday, he’s given you kind words at your job, and now here he was giving all of himself to you. The emotions, the hypersensitivity, the closeness, it was all too much for you.

You came a third time, the sensation toeing the line between pain and pleasure as you clung to him tightly. He gave several more thrusts before reaching his own peak with a howl that might encourage a file complaint or two. You just held him, feeling every shiver run down his limbs and every shaky breath expelled from his powerful lungs. Both of you rested in each other’s embrace. If only things could just stay this way; Hizashi never failed to make you feel so good, in more ways than you even dreamed of. “Woah woah, you alright?” Said man’s panicked voice startled you. Before you could ask what he was talking about, you felt the moisture running down your cheeks. When did you start crying? “What’s the matter?” He tried again, his troubled eyes breaking your heart. ‘It’s nothing,’ that’s what you wanted to say, but your throat felt constricted as more tears fell. Hizashi didn’t need to hear you—he simply pulled you up into a proper hug, saying nothing as you cried in confused frustration. The music had stopped at some point during the sex, the only sound present now was your soft weeping. You let the soft rubs along your back soothe you, his other hand cradling your head. The tenderness of it all just made you want to cry more, but you held back and calmed yourself down and spoke. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” “Nothin’ to be sorry about, listener,” he returned to using that term, making this feel like another one of your friendly night talks. “It gets pretty intense sometimes.” He pulled you into a kiss, this one much lazier than the others. This was it. The kissing. It was too sweet, too sincere, the warmth of it blossomed something inside your chest that felt too earnest to be simple lust. Was he aware of what he was doing to you? Were you just overthinking this? Weren’t one-night stands supposed to have boundaries? Hizashi pulled out of you, leaving behind a sad emptiness that wanted him back immediately. He rose to his feet and headed to your bathroom, most likely to dispose of the condom. You heard his voice sound out of the room. “I’ve got little angels and devils to teach tomorrow, so I probably shouldn’t stay for long.”

Your heart felt like lead. “Okay,” you muttered. There really was nothing more to this. He was putting his boxers back on when he continued. “But…if it’s not too much to ask, maybe I can come by again?” What? Was he messing with you? “You’re serious?” You didn’t mean to sound so disbelieving, but your emotions were such a mess right now and you won’t appreciate having them toyed with. His pants were pulled up next. “One hundred percent serious!” He exclaimed with, dammit, that smile that lit up your entire being. “Maybe I’ll visit the cafe some more too. You were right about that croissant!” He returned to your side on the bed, wrapping an arm around your waist. “What I’m saying is, I think I like my favorite lady listener more than I thought.” Your heart was freed from its petrified state and swelled. Your arms swung around him before you could even stop yourself. “Hizashi…that’s so great but…you’re such a busy pro hero…I’m just a…how will this work?” You were rambling into his chest. “Easy girl, it’s nothing complicated. I’ll visit you whenever I have the time, alright? Ready to give you some support and…attention.” There’s that silly eyebrow wiggle again, making you laugh. You just kept on cuddling him, enjoying his presence for as long as you could tonight. A few minutes passed when you felt him shrug and break the silence. “Ah, what the hell.” He took hold of you and fell back onto the mattress with you now laying against him. “I guess I can stay for the night. I’ll just have to deal with waking up extra early tomorrow.” You snuggled into him and smiled. “Thank you,” you whispered. It’s unclear what kind of relationship you just formed with Hizashi; maybe this was only something temporary. All you knew is that you had him by your side, and you were going to cherish every minute of it and waste nothing. You’ll never waste a second of your life again.

#bnha #smut #present mic #yamada hizashi #present mic x reader

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lopithecusfanfiction · 4 years ago

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A Little Generosity Can Go A Long Way

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Rating: General Word Count: 1352 Alternate: AO3 Summary: It's 3:00 am when an intruder enters Bruce's house. Things don't go quite as planned. Warnings:

Robbery

Intruder

Author's Note: This is for @lovelastart who requested “Home Invasion” from the Hurt/Comfort Bingo (I am no longer taking prompts for this.) First and foremost, apologies are in order. Lovelastart, I am really, really sorry this took me an abysmal amount of time to get this done. At first, it was because I was having really bad frequent migraines (which, unfortunately, have not gone fully away but they are a little less at the moment) and then I got let go from my job and I was really depressed from that and… well, time got away from me and before I knew it, 3 months had passed. I’m terribly sorry about that! Anyway, I’m sure you don’t want my excuses and you just want the fic you requested of me, so here you go. I hope you enjoy it!! Prompt: Home Invasion

Bruce yawns tiredly as he makes his way to the kitchen. It’s 3:00 am in the morning and everyone is asleep already, including Alfred. It was a pretty tame night, thankfully, and so there was no need for the older man to stay awake if Bruce was going to come home unscathed. That left Clark, who goes to bed early anyway.

Bruce opens the fridge, looking for something to eat quickly so he can sink himself into bed and finally go to sleep. Although nothing major happened that night, he still had to take care of his fair share of robberies which, depending on the sheer amount, can be pretty tiring in and of itself. Tonight, it had been a lot.

Finally deciding on just getting cereal, Bruce grabs for the milk when suddenly something is hitting his head, knocking him over to the side, and causing him to bang into the refrigerator door. He falls to the floor but quickly scrambles to get up, cupping the side of his head. He can feel a little wetness there now, which probably means he’s bleeding.

Guess Alfred is going to be getting up after all.

Bruce faces his opponent and squares him up. It’s a stocky man, tall, wearing a black ski mask to hide his features and a long, thick jacket. He’s also holding some kind of metal rod that is luckily thin enough that it couldn’t do too much damage to Bruce’s skull. The guy should have picked a different weapon. Bruce would laugh if it was something he did during a fight.

The guy lunges for him and Bruce just barely dodges. He takes note of how slow his body is moving, having worn itself out from his earlier fights. Still, he’s Batman, and Batman isn’t taken out from some lowlife thug breaking into his own house.

Bruce brings his elbow down onto the guy’s neck as the intruder stumbles past Bruce’s sidestep, knocking the man to the ground with a heavy grunt from the man. He groans on the floor, twisting to look at Bruce through the holes in the mask, bringing the bar back up to strike at Bruce. Unfortunately, Bruce isn’t fast enough this time and he manages to land a strike on Bruce’s side. He can take it though. He’s had worse.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Bruce asks as he reaches out for the bar as the man swings again. Bruce catches it in his hand, ignoring the sting of the impact on his palm, and yanks it out of the still wheezing man. Despite his size, he’s not very skillful or strong.

The whole man’s body collapses onto the floor, all tension leaving his body as he flops onto his back. “Damn it…” he sounds like he might cry. “I just…” Bruce stays quiet, letting the man get his nerve up. If he were dressed as Batman, he might have punched him for encouragement but at the moment he’s supposed to be billionaire Bruce Wayne and Bruce Wayne doesn’t go around punching criminals. “How’d you beat me?” the man asks instead.

Bruce resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Did you really think, as a rich man, I wouldn’t know some self-defense?”

“I guess not,” the man mumbles.

“What is your name?” Bruce relaxes as well. The guy is obviously no longer a threat.

The man pulls the ski mask up to reveal his face. “George.”

Bruce reaches out, offering a hand. “Well, George, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble soon so you might as well tell me why you did this.”

George takes the offered hand, allowing Bruce to haul him back up onto his feet. “I need the money,” he says quietly as if it’s something he should be ashamed of.

Bruce sighs. “It’s really early. Are you hungry? The police probably won’t give you anything decent for a while.”

“What?” George’s eyes are huge. “You’re… you’re offering to feed me?”

“Based on those muscles, you should be stronger. I take it you haven’t eaten a nice meal in a long time,” Bruce comments, shrugging nonchalantly.

George looks down at his feet, bashful almost. “Yeah,” he mumbles.

Bruce sighs again. “Look, I’m not that great of a cook, but my boyfriend is amazing. Let me go get him.” He gives George a pointed look. “Don’t go running off. The police will find you and if they can’t, you can guarantee Batman will.”

George audibly swallows hard. “I won’t, Sir, I promise.”

“Right…” Bruce goes to leave but then stops. He turns and opens a cabinet up, pulling out a bottle of wine. He looks at it and then the man’s jacket. “Maybe we can drink a little of this with our meal. I know it’s early but… it’s Gotham.” He places it down on the counter. “You know, this bottle could be sold for up to $10,000 dollars.” He leaves it at that, turning and heading up to his bedroom.

When he reaches the bedroom, it doesn’t take much to wake Clark who is immediately on him, checking his wounds. “You should have called for me. I would have helped.”

“It’s a robber, Clark, I could handle it.” At Clark’s disbelieving eyes, he adds, “I handled it.”

Clark sighs in defeat, knowing he won’t win this argument. “Let’s get you patched up then.”

“Actually, there’s something I need you to do first.”

Bruce leads Clark down to the kitchen once the Kryptonian has put on his glasses, grabbing a business card on his way, and explaining the issue. Clark seems amused by the whole thing but doesn’t comment on Bruce’s generosity. When they get back to the kitchen, Bruce notices the wine bottle is gone. He says nothing.

“Good morning, George,” Clark greets. “I hear you are in need of a meal.”

“A-actually,” he fidgets where he stands. “I think I’ve decided I’m not that hungry.” His eyes dart to the door. Bruce wonders if he’s going to try and make a run for it.

“Okay, how about this, George?” Bruce begins, stepping closer. George takes a step back. “I won’t call the police on you in one condition.”

“What do you want?”

“For you to eat something.”

George stares at him as if he’s gone insane but eventually slowly nods his head. “Okay.”

Clark smiles at him and immediately starts to cook the three of them breakfast while talking aimlessly, mostly about the vacations he and Bruce have gone on together. Once done, they all sit at the island, eating their scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon. George hums appreciatively, eating quickly. When he’s finished, he stands, chugs the rest of his water, and then says, “Well, thanks for the meal, Mister Wayne.” He gives Clark a nod in thanks. “I better get going.”

“Hmm,” Bruce hums, not giving the man much attention until he’s almost out the door. “George,” he calls him back, making George stop in his tracks and turn to face him. “The next time you need money, here.” Bruce hands him the business card that he had shoved into his sweatpant’s pocket. “Wayne Enterprises is always looking for people with your tenacity to work for them.”

George’s entire face lights up red. “T-t-thank you, Mister Wayne!” Then he’s gone, running through Bruce’s yard to get back down to the street.

Clark rubs a hand through Bruce’s hair, on the side that isn’t bruised, carding his fingers through the locks there. “That was kind of you, to offer a job.” Clark turns to look in the direction George is heading. “Do you think he’ll be okay with just that? He seemed not well off, at all.”

Bruce, thinking about the bottle of wine, smiles at Clark and leans over to give him a quick kiss on the lips. “He’ll be fine.” He stands, stretching his arms above his head, not missing the way Clark watches as his shirt rises up to show his stomach a little. “Now help me clean and bandage these wounds so I can finally go to sleep.”

—————————————————————————————————

A/N: So, a little less hurt, a little less comfort, but oh well. I hope you liked it anyway Lovelastart!

I started writing this with one thing in mind but Bruce refused to not be kind to George once he learned of the situation.

Thank you for reading!!

#DC Comics #SuperBat #Superman #Batman #Clark Kent #Kal El #Bruce Wayne #A Little Generosity Can Go A Long Way #My Fanfiction

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midnight-moonlight-and-mars · 5 years ago

Text

Carbon Monoxide (Requested)

Warnings: Depression, Swearing, Fluff?

Summary: Tak is convinced Y/n is dead. The love his life was killed saving him from an impulsive mistake he made. Between the blame, the drinks, and depression everything was bleak and pointless. Until he arrives a Bancroft party to find what he knew was nothing at all. What really happened?

Requested by: @ravenclawsstolemybunies

A pulse flows through the air in a gushing wave. Tak felt his whole body fall to the gorund and go completely numb as well the rest of the swarming mob of people.

Stack Shocker... FUCK

He looked for Y/n in the now fallen crowd of battered and bruised people. She had been thrown by the blast in the middle of the road. Blood pooled around her body pushed around by the freezing rain.

Tak fights through using every ounce of strength to get himself to her lifeless body, the blurring his vision and making his body numb.

Her heart beat was slow. The noise and chaos that erupted around them disappeared into a static and blurry cloud. His mind went fuzzy with adrenaline and ears ringing from all of the hits to his head.

“Y/N??? Y/N!!!!”

Nothing.

Cold skin... Blood... wound. Cover it... Pressure...

“Y/n please... oh god please...”

....Analyzing Stack.... No signs of activity. Lifeless

Too much... too many... guns... police....Leave....Leave her...now. Go!

~Present Day~

Tak sat in the outside garden at Suntouch waiting on Bancroft to finish whatever the fuck rich people do in their spare time. It was nice and all but he saw past the pretty flowers and statues. He saw everything scum like these people stood for. But, he needed the money if he was going to ever get out of this shit hole.

“Mr. Kovacs! You’re early.” Bancroft made his way through garden alongside his wife, who just seemed to be very interested in Tak anytime he was around.

“I need to speak with your associates or friends. See if they have any grudges against you or your family. I need you to get them all into one place without raising suspicion. Can you do that within the next few days?”

“Of course Mr. Kovacs whatever you need to get this done. I assume you have a plan? Do you plan on someone confessing to you or do you have someone in mind? I will tell you they are snakes with their own secrets and scandals. Turning over these stones will likely cause some fuss. More than the one you’re causing already my friend...”

"It does work in our favor though. Many people seem more interested in attending now that you are honored guest." Bancroft's wife said eyeing him a little too hard for her husband being a foot away.

“If you can get it done leave the rest to me.” Tak waiting for no contest left as quickly as he came. He couldn’t stand to be there, let alone work for them to save his life. Besides, he needed a cigarette and a drink to prepare for whatever the fuck he was about to step into.

When Tak arrived at the Raven Hotel, Poe was quick to spark conversation that he was just not in the mood for. Something about news or the maybe the weather? He didn’t know and he really didn’t care honestly. The headaches were getting worse not to mention the weird hallucinations. Maybe it was the drugs he took yesterday... What was it? LSD maybe?

“Master Kovacs I also think it’s imperative that you...”

“Poe. Seriously? Shut the fuck up my head hurts and I really don’t have time for your questions or whaatever other shit you have to bother me with.”

“Are the headaches getting progressively worse now?” Poe asked worriedly. He knew the cause, but hardly knew what to do anymore, Nothing seemed to remedy these episodes.

“You’re not helping it either.” Tak took a long awaited drag of a cigarette out his pocket and tilted his back. He closed his eyes and let the smoke curl out of his mouth as he felt the flood gates in his mind give way. He could see Y/n's face appear out of the mist of darkness. The dark splattered blood on her face and the way her eyes looked so dead. He felt the same pain swallow his chest as before. The same one that tears through his skin and coils around his heart.

“Master Kovacs are you still with us?” Poe asked observing him closely.

Waking from his trance, Tak gave Poe one last glare before he finally took the hint and fazed somewhere else. Closing his eyes again, he resumed his dream. This time, though, was different.

He could still see her face, but there was no blood. She was smiling even. It seemed so real and she looked so lively. She was speaking incherently almost in a whisper, but he couldn't understand a single word. Tak reached for her but no matter how close he got, she would just grow farther and farther away. At one point he even began to chase her, but taking a final leap to catch her woke him from his dream. Why was this one different? What could it mean?

Getting up from his chair Tak felt his head spin in a whirlwind of thought. There was no way she could be alive. None. From what he can remember Y/n’s stack and sleeve were destroyed. Anyone that found her remains would have never let her live and surely destroyed her stack. Everything now is fuzzy but hes sure. What Tak remembered had to be true.

It just had to be... right?

Now Tak was questioning everything he remembered about what happened. The headaches were becoming worse and even came down with a fever from all the strain on his body and mind.

Poe appeared next to Tak who was lying in bed dripping in sweat. “Do you need anything? I can make myself rather useful in a variety of areas. Cooking, cleaning, or just simply an ear for someone to talk to.” Poe said avoiding eye contact.

“Fine.” Giving in, Tak talked about Y/n. he talked about her smile, her strength, courage, and of course how beautiful she was inside and out. Poe listened intently smiling at how much Tak was gushing about this mystery woman. But when Tak explained how he thought she died and how the details aren’t adding up, it sounded familiar. She died before Poe could meet her, which he disappointed to hear, but he was more saddened by the fact that Y/n’s death was still killing him.

“She sounds wonderful. You two seemed very compatible.”

“She was wonderful... Everything that I thought I knew and thought was solid proof is falling through my hands. I can’t think straight I can’t sleep... A part of me still thinks she’s alive but it can’t be true. Y/n would have found me by now she would be looking for me or let me know what was happening but...”

“Mr. Kovacs if she were alive.” Poe interrupted, “Y/n would very slim of an opportunity to meet you. We don’t know the circumstances she is in or even her whereabouts if Y/n were to actually be alive. Perhaps it is better to take what you have left of Y/n and hold onto it. If she is alive, it is completely out of your hands.”

Tak walked away from Poe trying not to agree with what he was saying. He took a moment to stand on the balcony, letting the cigarette slowly burn away. He looked at the lively and bright city before him, his heart slowly but surely breaking. Rain soon engulfed the city like a flame, completely soaking his clothes, and camouflaging his tears.

~Flashback~

“You know Taki, although I do hate being in the city, it always looks so beautiful at night. The lights, the noise. It’s all so... surreal.” Y/n spoke looking out onto the cityscape from their room.

Aside from the pollution and screaming and yelling, the lights mixing with the thundering rain painted a beautiful picture. The way the colors mixed in water drops and the way skies lit up with lightning had Y/n in awe.

“I hate it no matter what it looks like. It’s nothing but criminals, sex, and secrets and everyone else having to deal with it” Tak said snaking his arms around her and holding her close placing small kisses on her neck.

“Sex sounds pretty good right about now...” Y/n gave smiled giving Tak a kiss.

Tak took in her all of her features and the way the wind combed through her hair perfectly and her eyes were just endless. It was her original body, but she was more than just looks. He loved every part of her no matter what body she was wearing, and being with her made him the happiest man in the world.

“God you're beautiful.” he said pulling her slose as possible

“You’re not too bad yourself, Taki.”

“Ugh. Stop calling me that. It sounds awful.”

“Make me.”

~Present~

At Bancroft’s Party, Tak was observing all of his friends and how they interacted with each other, especially Bancroft himself. He didn’t see anyone suspicious, actually all of them seemed like it, but there were several people that stood out. For all the wrong reasons anyway. Aside from the frilly dresses to eight pounds of makeup to some people just completely naked, all seemed normal.

Tak continued to down a few more shots when the mood of the room seemed to calm. People began to buzz amongst themselves and cluster together when this woman appeared. She was pretty, everyone at the party was supposed to be. Yet, she had something they didn’t, it was a certain way she looked down at even the highest of the high of people that caught his attention as well as everyone else's.

She didn’t mingle with the other guests, in fact, she made her way straight to the bar paying no attention to anyone or anything but the drink she would take in her hand. The burning liquor seemed to relieve the now noticeable anxious expression on her face.

“Not a fan of parties I take it?” Tak asked watching this woman down two more shots of really strong liquor with ease.

The sound of Tak’s voice caused her to slowly turn her head towards him. Her expression was unreadable, and she was trying to find the words to say but couldn’t. After a moment she steadied herself and spoke.

“Not a fan of these assholes that's for sure. I have never been to a party like this in a while, and never without a certain special someone. Now that I am here I think I can manage these clowns all night. And by the looks of it, you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself either mister.” She took a moment to take him in, she noticing he was fighting his own battle in this miserable place.

“Same situation you’re in I guess. Having to deal with their shit is a real fucking pain in the ass. You know these people?”

“I know of them, but they’re not why I’m here. I was looking for that special someone, it was rumored that they would be here tonight. Huge guest of honor I hear. I pulled all the strings I had in my back pocket to get into this party.”

“Over a rumor? Everyone likes an optimist I guess. I hope they’re worth it.” Tak downed one last drink before he tried to leave but her words stopped him.

"At least I think you are."

Tak paused for a moment. At first he was confused, he didn’t know this woman. But the more he thought about it, the more it actually didn’t make sense.

"Who the fuck are you?" He said more than aggitated thinking she was there to kill him or start something he had to finish.

“Taki, you still haven’t figured it out? So much for that envoy intuition.”

Taki?

“Y/N? It can't be. That's impossible your stack was...”

“It was ok. It was damaged only slightly but I needed a new sleeve for sure. This sleeve took a while to make and I had severe sleeve sickness afterwards. I was desperate to find you Taki. There is so much buzz around you now it was hard to get to you. I am so sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner... Maybe I could’ve helped you with all of this I...”

Tak swooped Y/n into an embraced and kissed her. Even holding her was long overdue. He felt the grip on his mind release and felt his heart throb out his chest. Y/n melted in his arms and felt all tension leave her body. Between the tears and the I love yous, the time they spent apart was slowly erased.

Completely not caring about Bancroft and his death anymore Tak and Y/n navigated through the crowd and out the back door. Bancroft would have his head on a pike later but he didn't care.

Using the elevator they did their best to avoid cameras and other party goers who could point them out or stop them.

Tak waved down a cab and let Y/n slide in first. After taking a moment to breathe after practically running out of the place they both started laughing hysterically. He missed that laugh. Despite the new sleeve it sounded the same.

They began exchanging stories of their time apart, and Tak realized he had forgotten how badass Y/n can be. Her stories seemed more eventful and dramatic than he thought possible. It made Bancroft's death and party and cheap soiree.

When Tak took a turn spoke about how her 'death' affected him, Y/n's heart sank at every word. His whole demeanor changed and did her hardest to hold back the waterfall of tears in her eyes. All she wanted to was cradle him in her arms forever. He already had lost Quell, he shouldn't of had to lose her too.

They let the heaviness in the air between them fill the silence. There would be longer be a need for pain anymore. It was over.

The car soon came to a halt in front of the hotel and Tak had to brace Y/n for the storm that was Poe. In all honesty she couldn't wait to meet Tak's only friend through everything.

After an hour long interview with Poe, Y/n headed upstairs to Tak's room. He stayed behind to grab something to eat off of Poe to bring up.

The amount of bottles on the floor made her feel guilty. She knew he was alive and what happened but he didn't know about her. Even when he thought she was dead he looked for her and found nothing. There were times she questioned going back to him at all. Not because she didn't love him, because she thought he was better off. She thought wrong.

Hearing the elevator make it's way up she quickly got out her clothes and into one of his shirts on the floor. She laid on the bed trying not fall asleep on the extremely comfy mattress.

Tak stepped out of the elevator with drinks and something fancy on a plate but seeing Y/n he didn't think the food would even be touched. He just set it on the floor, took off his clothes, and slid into bed beside her.

She slid in closer to him and laid her head on his chest. His body felt so warm despite being out in the cold. Y/n didn't have a care in the world. Being in his arms was the only world she wanted any part of.

Tak took a deep breath and closed his eyes for just a moment and for once didn't feel any pain or guilt. At long last it was just silence and darkeness. He began to stroke her back just make sure she hadn't disappeared. Laying there in silence, just being in each other's presence after so long and given how exhausted they were from the last few hours was more than enough.

"I love you Taki. More than anything."

"I love you too Y/n/n."

"Ew don't call me that." Y/n giggled. "Never use it again."

"Make me."

There something Tak wanted to do before they closed in for the night. Something that took a moment for him to gather the nerve for. Despite the anxiety he was feeling, he had to make sure he wouldn't lose her again.

Sensing his anxiety, Y/n looked up at him.

"What's on your mind Taki?"

...

"Marry me"

***************

Tags: @ittie-bittie-tittie @pixelsinspace @umbrellabrass @fandomalert31

#takeshi kovacs imagine #tak x reader #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs #altered carbon imagines #altered carbon

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morganaspendragonss · 4 years ago

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Bad Things Happen Bingo Masterpost!

And that's a wrap on my @badthingshappenbingo card! Thanks to anybody and everybody who requested a square - this has been so, so fun! I've had this card for years and have been actively working on it for a year and a half, so it's incredible to have finally finished it 🥰

Prompts and Fills listed below the cut:

Used in Sacrifice/Ritual - Filled

you would be the one to rescue me | BBC Atlantis | Jason x Pythagoras

When Jason wakes, Pythagoras is gone.

This in itself is not so strange. What is strange, however, is that his cloak has been left behind despite there being a significant chill in the air. And when Hercules begins to wake, and there is still no sign, Jason knows.

Something's wrong.

Rage Against the Reflection - Filled

out, damned spot | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

TK wakes up gasping, choking on air. The sheets are suffocating him and, when he tries to free himself, they only seem to get tighter. The hands reaching out for him, trying to calm him, are the final straw; TK throws himself from bed and sprints to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him as he collapses against the sink.

On some level, he is aware that the hands were Carlos’s, that the sheets were theirs, that his hands are clean, and that the dream was just a dream.

But they weren't always that way.

Falling Through the Ice - Filled

ice in my veins | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

Carlos only turns away for a second, he swears. Unfortunately, a second is clearly ample time for his boyfriend to get into trouble because when Carlos turns back around, TK is no longer standing where he left him.

Instead, there’s a sizable hole in the ice.

Flashbacks - Filled

start again from the beginning | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK & Owen

Owen trusts his son. He’s watched TK fight his addiction and stay sober for the last six years, and he has faith that he can handle himself.

But when TK doesn’t show up for work the night after proposing to Alex, Owen knows that something is wrong. After all, they've been here before.

Branding - Filled

setting fire to our insides for fun | Supernatural | Meg x Cas

Cas had been prepared to find demons. Frankly, he would have been concerned if he didn’t find demons, given that that was his mission here. What he hadn’t been prepared for, however, was to find two demons torturing another, pressing the hot end of a branding iron into her forearm.

He killed the two torturers with practised ease, barely wasting a moment before they were both on the dirty, wooden floor, eyes burned out their sockets. Only then did he allow his surprise to catch up to him, breathing heavily as his gaze settled on someone he hadn’t seen in a long time.

Meg.

Memory Loss - Filled

focal point | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

Waking up in the hospital is becoming all too familiar. Being the one in the bed is less so, but Carlos has had his fair share of hospital trips. He knows the drill.

As soon as he sees him awake, TK breaks out in harsh sobs. "Carlos," he breathes. "I... I thought I'd lost you."

Caught in an Explosion - Filled

can we skip past near death cliches? | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

It’s the kind of call every first responder dreads. A bomb threat in an apartment block, civilian’s lives on the line, the whole situation a hair’s breadth away from disaster. And Carlos is right in the middle of it.

tw: explosions, bombs

Forced to Kneel/Bow - Filled

in case you don’t live forever (let me tell you now) | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

His teammates were still sitting in the communal area when TK entered, eyes glued to the tv screen. Paul was the first to notice him, and TK’s concern only grew as he got everyone else’s attention, their worried gazes falling on him one by one.

“There’s a hostage situation at that big, fancy hotel across town," Marjan explained. "Apparently it’s pretty serious, they’ve had to send police in, and, um, well…”

Marjan paused, and TK felt dread wash through him, knowing what her next words would be.

“Carlos is there, TK. He’s gone in.”

tw: references to gun violence

Be Careful What You Wish For - Filled

can you beat back the night? | The Witcher | Geralt x Jaskier

He misses the bard. Geralt won’t admit it, not even to Roach, but he misses him. After months—years—of Jaskier’s constant chatter and the sound of his lute, the silence, once valued above all else, is too much.

It’s been months since the dragon, since Geralt lost both Yennefer and Jaskier in one fell swoop. He’s cursed himself many times over for the words he said—to both of them—and cursed himself more for the mistakes he made to get in this position in the first place.

this is the lot of witchers, to be alone.

Blood From the Mouth - Filled

I Got You | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos, TK & 126 Crew

“I’m just sayin’,” Judd says, waving his arms around. “Somebody’s gonna get themselves killed in there one of these days. I had to come out here three times last year because of some idiots who think they know better than the ‘Keep Out’ signs.”

The team are called to an abandoned house where some kids are trapped. Everything is going smoothly, which, naturally, means that it won't be that way for much longer.

Trapped in a Burning Building - Filled

a little unsteady | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

9-1-1, What's your emergency?

'Please, help! My house is on fire and my husband’s inside!'

t.k. sometimes wonders if the universe is out to get him

Worked Themselves to Exhaustion - Filled

In Your Arms | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos, Michelle & TK

T.K. and Carlos agreed when they started dating to check-in on each other that they were both okay. Reassurance that nothing bad had happened. So, when Carlos hasn't replied hours after his shift is supposed to have finished, T.K.'s definitely beginning to panic.

Locked in a Cage - Filled

running out of time | Shadowhunter Chronicles | Kit x Ty

When (if) they got out of here, Kit wanted the record to unequivocally state that this wasn’t his fault. Not that it was Ty's either, but it certainly wasn't Kit's.

kit and ty's first hunt together after three years goes wrong and they wind up trapped in a cage with no way out. naturally, this leads to a heartfelt conversation.

Demonic/Ghostly Possession - Filled

Haunting | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos, TK & Owen

T.K. is five when he first sees a ghost, though, of course, he doesn’t know that it’s a ghost. His name is Joey, and he lives in the playground, which T.K. thought was a little strange, but he doesn’t want to ask. Dad says it’s rude to ask questions like that to someone he’s just met.

Fingore - Filled

ease my mind | 911: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

Briefly, Carlos considers calling TK and telling him about the accident. But… He only broke two of his fingers and it barely even classifies as a minor injury in his book, so there’s really no reason to bother his fiancé while he’s still on shift himself. He pockets his phone then looks around to figure out where the exit is.

Only, an all-too familiar laugh distracts him from his task, drawing his attention to the nurses station.

Where TK is standing, smiling as a nurse swats at him for stealing one of their lollipops.

Carlos is, beyond doubt, fucked.

Verbal Abuse - Filled

this is a song about somebody else | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos, TK & Marjan

TK doesn't notice the 126's latest visitor until it's too late. He freezes as Alex smiles at him, knocked off balance by this sudden intrusion of his old life into his new one.

alex vists tk at the 126. luckily, tk has his family to help him through it.

tw: abusive language

Dying in Their Arms - Filled

can you hear me screaming (please don’t leave me) | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

As a cop, Carlos has to deal with all kinds of cases, and not all of them end well. But never in his life did he imagine that he'd have to respond to an incident involving his own boyfriend.

tw: major character death

Blindfolded - Filled

find you here inside the dark | Doctor Who | Thirteen x Yaz

Yaz has walked this room too many times to count now; she’s traced her fingertips over the walls, searching for any cracks or crevices to indicate where there might be a door.

If the Doctor were here, she’d have her sonic out by now, spitting out words, only half of which Yaz could understand. She’d find a way out in no time. Or, if not, at least she’d be here. Talking a mile a minute, probably annoying the hell out of their captors. Yaz can almost hear her now—

Wait.

She can hear her now.

Water Torture - Filled

soggy clothes and breezeblocks | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

Carlos wakes up slowly. He cracks his eyes open, wincing at the pounding in his head. He lifts his hand to massage the pain away, only to discover that his hand won't move, the cool metal of handcuffs biting viciously into his wrist.

After an undercover mission goes wrong, Carlos is forced to fight for his life. And to make matters worse, his kidnappers are making sure that T.K. is watching the entire thing.

tw: torture

Fighting from the Inside - Filled

and curse the gods | BBC Atlantis | Jason & Medusa

Jason knows what it is to be cursed.

Slammed into a Wall - Filled

mind over matter (matter over mind) | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos, TK & Owen

After a night out goes wrong, TK and Carlos are left to deal with the consequences.

tw: homophobia, hate crimes, hiding an injury

Suicide Attempt - Filled

be done with this now | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

Once upon a time, Carlos had thought that watching as his almost-boyfriend was whisked off in an ambulance, bullet wound in his chest, would be the worst moment of his life. Then TK had been kidnapped, and Carlos had spent hours not knowing where he was, if he was alive or dead, and he thought - this is it. Nothing can top this.

But, having to perform CPR on his husband, having to hold him as he slipped away in his arms?

That was worse than even his nightmares.

tw: suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression, drug abuse, overdosing

Bleeding Through the Bandages - Filled

pull you in to feel your heartbeat | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

The call comes at the tail end of Carlos’s shift, and he instantly hates whichever idiot decided to ruin his night by mugging someone.

What he's not expecting is to find his boyfriend on the ground, bleeding out from a stab wound.

Arm in a Sling - Filled

have you been involved in an accident at work? | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK & 126 Crew, TK x Carlos

T.K. was on his way to the hospital. Again.

At least this time he could say with absolute certainty that it 100% wasn't his fault.

Self-Harm - Filled

but god i wanna feel again | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

Carlos blames himself for not noticing. It's not like he had much choice in the matter; he hasn't seen T.K. all week, and his texts have been going unanswered, but he can't help but feel like it's partly his fault.

If only T.K. would actually talk about himself, instead of keeping it all in.

tw: self-harm

#bad things happen bingo #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #send me prompts!#masterlist

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colehasapen · 4 years ago

Text

(ONE SHOT) kyr'yc STAR WARS

Kix had been frozen for fifty years.

Everything he had loved, everything he had fought for - it was all gone. Everything had been destroyed because Kix had failed. He had failed Fives, failed Jesse and Rec - he had failed the Republic and the Jedi, and now it had all been ruined. His brothers had been brainwashed and killed all the while Kix slept on in stasis, unaware of it all happening, not even knowing that he wasn’t still sleeping in his office, desperately following the trail Fives had left behind and being driven mad by it.

He must not have been careful enough, because he had been taken before he could bring his information to the High Generals. Taken and frozen and lost for fifty years.

He’s the last clone alive. He had missed Rex by almost thirty years - Rex who, according to records, had lived beyond the fall of the Republic and the slaughter of the Jedi. Rex had survived to be an old man and had helped the Rebellion overthrow the Empire. He had died in his sleep almost thirty years ago, believing himself to be the last, and unaware that Kix had been stolen and frozen the whole time. Rex had died as an old man, and Kix was alone before he had even been aware of it.

Kix moves through life in a haze after he wakes up, untethered and alone and without a reason to continue on, but still he moves, unable to stop. He’s living in a galaxy not his own, lost and trying to find anything that could make him feel whole again. He’s a clone alone in a galaxy that never wanted him, without the brothers that had surrounded him from the moment he had been decanted. Even when he was lonely, he had never been alone, but now - now he has nothing and no one.

Clones were never never made to be alone; they were made to operate in teams, they were designed to work in cohesive units. They never coped well by themselves, it was something even the Kaminoans had known, and had stopped forcing them into solitary after the massive rise in suicides that they had had to deal with. Clones preferred death to being alone, they fell into depressive, self-destructive spirals if removed from their networks, and the massive number of deaths that had followed the introduction of one-man survival missions had convinced even the Kaminoans to stop separating clones from each other when it had gotten too costly.

It’s hard, not eating his own blaster now, especially on bad days when he wants nothing more than to go see his brothers once more. He sees Rex and Jesse when he closes his eyes, he hears Hardcase’s laugh, Fives’ voice, and Echo’s bad jokes. He imagines sitting in their bunkroom on the Resolute, eating snacks that Jesse had smuggled onto the ship, watching Dogma braid Tup’s long hair while Jesse and Hardcase wrestle at his feet and Fives and Echo bicker about the most ridiculous of subjects. Rex would have watched from a distance, needing to keep up the image of their strict Captain, but eventually they’d manage to wheedle him into joining them. They would sleep in a clone pile, surrounded by warmth and brothers and the feeling of safety and home. Kix would always wake up alone though, reality sinking in once more, and - Force, he wants that again.

He wants to be surrounded by his brothers again, to be with people who understand him on levels no one else does. But he can never do it, not matter how much he wants to. He can’t bring himself to pull the trigger because he sees Coric’s sad eyes every time they’d have to lie on another form after another body had been found with a hole through their heads, he sees Rex’s desperation as he talks brothers away from the edge. He remembers Fives’ shaking hands after Lola Sayu when they’d had to wrestle a syringe out of his grasp, and the broken, wailing noises he’d made afterwards.

They’d want Kix to keep moving, so that’s what he does. He stays with Ithano and his crew for a time, enjoying wild jaunts across the Galaxy hunting for treasure and adventure, but he doesn’t stay with the pirates and they don’t force him to. He drifts for a time, and gets lost once or twice. He finds the remains of the 332nd’s crashed ship and cries in front of Jesse’s grave, holding the cracked, weathered helmet in his hands as if it were his brother, apologizing to the thousands of beings he had failed and the brothers who had died because of him. He doesn’t want to imagine Jesse’s last moments, but it’s hard not to when he sees the jagged cracks in the helmet Jesse had oh-so lovingly painted after making it to ARC, promising to do Fives’ memory proud. He would have been forcibly turned against their Captain and Commander because Kix had failed to honour Fives’ last request. He would have died when the ship went down, and Kix hopes it was on impact. He hopes Jesse hadn’t been in too much pain.

Kix keeps moving, he owes that much to his brothers. He continues living for them, and when he hears of a wanna-be Empire trying to gain a foothold in the Galaxy, Kix goes to the Resistance. No one recognizes him as a clone, not as a relic of an age long past, instead he’s just Kix, a combat medic who wants to help. He knows how to fight and is a good teacher for anyone Command throws at him, and the Resistance needs whoever they can take.

He flourishes in war - he would have never thought he’d miss having to stitch people back together, but somehow he had. Kix is a clone, he had been made to fight. It gives him a purpose again, to protect the New Republic.

It also gives him the chance to build a new network.

Kix finds a young man in the medical bay one night as he finishes some paperwork for General Organa, and the kid who had been supposed to be heavily drugged stirs. He’s young with dark skin and doe eyes that remind Kix of his youngest brothers after their first battles, wearing a pair of loose sleep pants and a back-full of bacta wraps. He’s trying to sit up in the bed, struggling against the wires and machines around him as he gasps through his panic.

Kix is at his side within seconds, carefully taking the boy by his shoulder, avoiding the thick bandages around his torso, “Hey, no. Stay down kid.” He advises, and large dark eyes turn to him in surprise and groggy confusion. “My name is Kix, I’m a Resistance medic. You’re safe.” He soothes.

“I - the - Starkiller base?” He croaks, and Kix tilts his head, offering the boy a comforting smile that doesn’t feel as fake as it normally does.

“Destroyed, kid.”

The young man lets out a breath of relief, and lets Kix push him back into the bed to lay on his stomach once more, “That’s good.” He murmurs, before alarm sparks in his eyes again. “Rey?”

“Well,” Kix starts, moving to fuss with the kid’s bandages so that he could inspect the injury. “We don’t have any casualty reports on a Rey, so I can say that they’re not in the medbay.” The boy relaxes, “You, on the other hand, have been in bacta for the last week and a half.” He finally manages to wrestle the wrappings off of the kid, and he lets out a shocked hiss at the sight of the massive injury twisting across his spine. “How did you get a lightsaber burn?” He demands - there hadn’t been any notes about lightsaber burns in any files he had read. But then again, who the hell would know what they were looking at with the Jedi reduced to nothing but a legend and a scary story to tell misbehaving children.

The young man blinks lethargically, the cocktail of drugs in his system probably taking effect again with the drop of his adrenaline levels. “Tried to fight Kylo Ren.” He grunts, “Lost.”

“Got some balls on you then. But that was a stupid thing to do” He had seen what lightsabers could do - he had stared at brothers hacked apart too often not to. “You’re lucky to be alive, kid.”

“Not a kid.” The kid mumbles, watching sleepily as Kix starts reapplying bacta to the wound. His cheek is smushed into the pillow, much like how Tup had once slept, his short curls a mess that reminded Kix way too much of Dogma’s before the younger trooper managed to slick it back in the morning.

It makes his heart hurt to look at him, but it’s nice to see his brothers somewhere in this messed up Galaxy.

Kix shakes himself, letting out a sardonic snort, “Well, you haven’t exactly told me your name, kid.”

He pouts sleepily, enough Fives in his expression that it aches, “FN-2187.”

Kix freezes, horror washing over him and a sick feeling in his stomach; he thought there wouldn’t be anymore children with numbers instead of names with the destruction of Kamino, but apparently that was too much to hope for. The kid - because Kix can’t even bring himself to call another person by a number, not again - flinches under his hands, like he was bracing for a blow.

If there was even more of a reason to hate Imperials, Kix was looking at it.

Dark eyes dart away from him nervously, and the kid licks his lips. “Finn.” He says quietly, a little desperate, “My name is Finn. And I’m not a number.”

Kix swallows. He stills the shaking in his hands and keeps working, “It’s nice to meet you, Finn.” He tells him honestly, and watches, a little heartbroken, as shock blooms in Finn’s wide eyes. “I’m CT-6116, but my name is Kix.” Finn’s breath catches, “I’m not a number either.”

“You’re like me.” Finn whispers in awe, voice cracking. “I’m not alone.”

“Not anymore, vod’ika.” Kix promises, throat thick and eyes burning, and he means it.

Finn wouldn’t be alone, not if he had anything to say about it.

#cole writes #fanfiction #star wars #whumptober 2020 #no.20 toto i have a feeling we're not in kansas anymore #clone trooper kix #finn (star wars)

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masked-buffoon · 4 years ago

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Chapter 4: To exist (Part 6)

Warnings: mention of drugs

Author notes: debate about how I depicted Yōko’s condition in the 4th part is opened! More seriously, this is one long part, but I hope you’ll like it. To be honest, that part was the one which made me so nervous about the chapter... Don’t hesitate to give me your opinion! Also, I realised I liked reblogs too! ^^

It was night when I woke up. The first thing I noticed in the darkness was the thing pressed onto my face. An oxygen mask. It was not there before. Had my body tried to give up on me again? After all, I was not supposed to be alive... And Lord was I thirsty. The tips of my fingers moved and I looked for the pager to call the nurse, who fortunately was never far from the infirmary. She turned on a small light and came to the side of my bed. I pointed to the breathing machine.

"Your oxygen saturation suddenly dropped while you were sleeping… Your body still needs to recover from the overdose, after all... Not to mention that nasty pneumonia… Hopefully, you are fine." She explained.

"I..." My voice was husky, but I could talk "What…?"

Morphine overdose…? Pneumonia…? What about my ability…?

"I'll bring you some water." She smiled "You are recovering just fine. Your body is trying to hold on."

I requested to sit up by myself, and slowly raised my back from the mattress to take the cup of water in my shaking hands. Feebly, I brought it to my mouth, and drank, absolutely relishing in the sensation of hydration.

"That's good." She complimented me "You should have some rest now."

"Wait…" I still had some trouble breathing "What exactly… What exactly killed me…?"

"Although it is clear your ability made you suffer, Ogawa-san, the thing that almost took your life today was morphine…" She sighed "And I even told you to be careful…"

"I don't understand…"

"It caused a severe respiratory depression." She explained "It means you could not breathe anymore, which made your oxygen saturation drop tremendously…"

"But… My headache… My fatigue… The pain… The coughing, even…!"

"Muscle pains and intracranial hypertension — your headache — are after effects of morphine. The fact you could not sleep first caused your headache, of course, but also made you weak, which is why you somehow caught pneumonia. That explains the coughing. As I said, we can't deny your ability was highly involved, but all that pain was increased by the drug." She explained "Only, you were never diagnosed because… You would never come for anything other than being stitched up like a ragged cloth…"

"... I see…" I looked down "I see…"

"Ogawa-san…" She took my hand into her "It isn't your fault…"

"No, indeed… I… I was just stupid… I caused this… I'm such a fool…"

Tears fell onto the sheets but I did not mind. All that pain… I had inflicted it myself.

"And… Dazai-san..." I exhaled "Is he... Is he alright...?"

The few words and reactions I could have witnessed when being awake had clearly indicated he did feel some guilt, inside. I did not want him to think it was his fault I was dying; it was all just a mistake I had committed.

"That stubborn child refused to leave..." She sighed "He constantly kept an eye on you and was the first one to notice the drop of your saturation. I... Think this accident made him reflect on himself."

"I don't know..." I looked down, only to finally notice he was still there, asleep with his head on the bed.

"That's only my opinion..." The nurse shrugged "He never let go of you, fearing you would wake up if his ability did not cancel yours."

"It's untrue..." I refused to believe it "He... He doesn't care... He is just putting on an act... As soon as I get better, he will... Again..."

Just imagining him beating me up again was enough to stress me out, and the monitor's rhythm increased with my heartbeat. Waking him up.

"Nurse, there is a —"

He saw me, and did not finish his sentence.

"You must calm down..." The nurse advised, laying me back "We will talk it out after your recovery. For now, you must not be anxious about anything."

"What's the point in recovering if I have to come back after...?" I murmured.

"What's going on...?" My superior looked at the nurse.

"Nothing you should care about for the moment. But, understand her nervousness... And I share her concern. Why are you suddenly nice toward Ogawa-san?" She frowned "It is not my business, but the bruises I wrapped up for her speak for themselves."

"... My hand must have slipped while I was dozing off..." He dodged the matter "I'll cancel your ability again, Ogawa-kun."

"Why...?" I avoided his touch "Why now? Why are you even here? What are you trying to make me believe?"

"... Is that how you see me? A liar...?" He looked upset.

"Not a liar. A puppeteer." I confessed, sincerely terrified "I can't understand what you think... I can only think about your ulterior motives, always, always... I am afraid of being played with..."

"I've never tried to manipulate your feelings to gain your loyalty..." He defended.

"Stop this nonsense, please… Manipulating… You do that all too well…! You do that all the time…"

"Ogawa-kun… Not with you…"

"Why did you praise me so randomly once, just to beat the crap out of me the next day, then?" I started sobbing "I don't understand... Do you just hate me...?"

"I don't hate you...! Obviously I don't hate you..."

"Then, am I too weak...?"

"That's not it..."

The nurse had left, most certainly to let us talk alone.

"What is it, then? Are you just bipolar...?! Or am I insane...?"

"I just wanted to train you... I wanted to make you stronger so you did not die... I honestly never noticed I was the one killing you." Dazai-san lowered his head "It's embarrassing, but I did not know about your pain, about your addiction... Until yesterday. Am I not a useless executive...? Had I done something… Had I done something, perhaps you never would have ended in such a state."

"... Right now..." I gripped onto the sheets "I am not sure whether you are acting or being sincere... I'm sorry, Dazai-san..."

"I don't want you to die!" He said, more willingly "I don't want you to die... Being tough and merciless was the actual act... I wanted you to grow accustomed to the Mafia... I wanted you to cast away your emotions, not to be morally struggling with decisions... I wanted to toughen you up, so you would resist against the enemies, so you would be mentally strong... But the only thing I managed to create was a machine, expert in torture and assassination, who does the job without a glance behind, who sheds blood with no hesitation, who looks down on pain... In a way, I obtained what I wanted, but... It isn't you. It isn't the girl who cried for attention that I first met. When I look at you and see fear, hatred, disgust and resentment in your eyes, I can't help thinking I did something wrong... But I could not understand what... Until you told me you wanted me to kill you. At this moment, I knew that nothing I had attempted with you would work. I've recently come to realise I was only hurting you... Forcefully making you face such violence, trying to mould you into the perfect subordinate... I have to admit it was a mistake. I can't believe I am the one who turned off that flickering yet bright flame of life in your eyes, whereas... Whereas it shone so warmly..."

It was understandable that someone who yearned to end his life would be fascinated by someone willing to live. That I was the one he was drawn to, however, was surprising. His words made me doubt as well. Indeed, since when had I become such a cold-hearted person? Since when had I killed without even a thought for the victim? Since when had I looked so eagerly for the worst methods of torture? I suddenly remembered how reluctant I had been to join the Port Mafia, how I had pretended to prefer dying... Since when had I lost my will to stay alive?

"You always repeat that the weak must die… I am weak, then why won't you let me leave? I questioned, curtly.

"Because... Because I want you to fetch me a cup of coffee, I want you to classify the paperwork for me...!" He sounded like a child about to throw a tantrum "The office... It felt less empty with you inside..."

"Now, you're just being difficult…" I looked away "I want to believe you, Dazai-san, I really want to. However… You've so often changed your mind and I am tired. I can't afford to be deceived anymore… I don't want to be disappointed in someone anymore…"

"... I know..." Dazai-san's eyes focused on his feet "I understand... It leaves an empty hole in your chest, you don't know what to think anymore... I know that... I didn't think I would make you feel that way, nonetheless..."

"You... You understand my point...?" I frowned.

"Of course... People are never what they seem. You, for example, look strong, determined, yet you are so sick you could die at any moment. People tell sweet lies in front of you, yet curse you when you are not looking. I know that..." He chuckled bitterly "Perhaps the problem comes from me... Perhaps am I a failure of a human being, tired of living, but mostly —"

"Afraid of your fellows…" I stared at him, finally understanding "You're afraid of us… And you don't know how to behave around me… That's why you seem so lunatic…"

"Do you hate me for that...? No, such a question... It is obvious you would hate me..."

"I've already told you… There are many people who do that better than me…" I paused to catch my breath "I don't hate you, Dazai-san. In fact, I pity you… And I feel… A bit stupid…"

I had believed Dazai-san was purposely rough and contemptuous toward me, because he did not like me, because I was too weak, because I was worthless. In fact... In fact, whereas he did not like me, he did not loathe me either, and that alone was enough to appease me. There was some place for me by his side, as a subordinate. I could keep serving him, obeying his commands, and he would not mind. If only I would not die... I could have strived to understand the pain gnawing at him from the inside, I could have tried to comprehend his feelings, instead of detesting him as I had done. At the very least, toughening me up had permitted me to survive in the cruel world of darkness the Port Mafia belonged to.

"What you did was undeniably wrong… You can't teach one if you use violence… Hitting me, abusing me, harassing me… Nothing can ever erase this fact… If I cannot forget, then, at least, I can try to forgive. You are the reason I survived so far, and for that I am grateful."

"You shouldn't be grateful that I treated you so brutally..."

"To be honest…" I recalled my time by his side, not without a tinge of bitterness "I really wanted to strive, to be a proper subordinate, worthy of being the protege of the infamous Demon Prodigy's… I guess I wanted to be useful, somehow, for once in my life. I wanted to exist, to be acknowledged as a human being. You did that, though… You treated me as a human being, although it was not ideal. You did not ignore me, at least. Thank you, Dazai-san, for making me feel alive, even if it was short."

"I don't deserve your thanks… But you're welcome…" He avoided my look.

"What are you afraid of? From me, I mean?"

"Huh…?"

"What could I do to harm you? What could I say to hurt you? Scheming against you? You would find out immediately. Talking behind your back? Many people do that. Besides, I've always been honest about you; I can't stand you. Well, I couldn't…" I mumbled "So… Why?"

"Why, indeed… It's not just about you…"

"I know… I'm not asking you to trust me… I just want to know that, if you need a loyal subordinate, you have one."

"Ogawa-kun… You can't mean it, not after everything I've done…"

"Oh but I do mean it. It is my way to redeem myself, too."

"... What do you mean…?"

I avoided his eyes for a moment, strangely unable to face the inquisitive and somewhat hopeful expression he wore. Why did he have to look so childish? So harmless? Although… He had not always acted like a cold adult man… All the times he had bickered with Nakahara-san, all the times he had dropped the mask of toughness to smile at me, even faintly, and that one time he had sounded relieved when I had recovered from the wounds inflicted by Gustavo Cosola… In fact, I had never paid attention to him, despite the warning Oda-san had given me. I did not understand him, nor did I know him. Dazai-san had troubles and I had forgotten that under the armour of the Demon Prodigy was hidden a small, terrified sixteen years old child, who strangely resembled me. Behind a wall of mercilessness, we were just teenagers who had grown up too quickly and had been thrown without concern in a world of adults, forced to become adults ourselves and to carry the immense burden of death upon our shoulders.

"I was too selfish…" I muttered "Too centered on myself. I did not see that it wasn't easy for you either…"

"Ogawa-kun…" He sighed "I have to confess something, since you're honest with me; everything I did was to train you… But I would lie if I said I never took my frustration out on you. On bad days, or only to hide my weakness, I beat you up without caring about your improvement. The light that shone in your eyes… Yes, there were times I wanted to turn it off. How dared you hold onto life? How could you believe in tomorrow? Break, cry, fall into despair or die being worthless, these were my actual thoughts."

"What do you hope to achieve by telling this to me?" I asked simply.

"I wanted to see if you would loathe me, now."

"Dazai-san… I knew all that. I mean, it was obvious you had some stress to let out." I tilted my head "The only thing I really resent you for is not teaching me to control my ability properly… For the rest… Now that I am going to die, anyway, there is no point in holding a grudge against you. I'd rather leave peacefully…"

"But I don't want you to leave…" A sort of pout formed on his lips "I don't want to lose you…"

"Losing me…?" I huffed, amused "I am not a toy for you to play with… I can't be lost. Besides, you merely need me to serve as furniture for your office. I may have given you my loyalty, Dazai-san, but I haven't given up on my pride as a human being. Do remember that, please."

He sighed. Heavily. Was he annoyed? Was he tired of me?

"I am ready to take my responsibilities. Weak people die, but you don't belong to them. You are my subordinate and you know I don't allow my men to be weak." He stood up, crossing his arms "You won't die, because I decided so."

"My body is in no state to fight…" I argued "I have pneumonia and I am a morphine addict. I can't sleep and my immune system has already collapsed a long time ago. What do you expect me to do? Besides, you have another protege… From what I heard, he is much more useful than me."

"I expect you to recover." He faced me, the usual Port Mafia executive replacing the distressed child "And, about Akutagawa-kun… He has no idea what his ability is made for, don't compare the two of you. You two have different strengths."

"But he succeeds where I am powerless." I stated "He —"

"He is a blade without a sheath. I need to control him in order to make him the most powerful ability user of the Port Mafia. When that day comes, he will be, without a doubt, the organisation's greatest asset. For now, however, he is nothing but an untamed dog."

"Dazai-san… You hate dogs…" I remarked, feeling sorry for Akutagawa-kun.

"What you lack in physical strength, you compensate with that." He pressed a finger to my forehead without paying attention to my words "You learnt what I taught you, what I could never teach him. That is why you are a valuable subordinate in my squadron, because I can trust your wit, because I know that you are able to replace me."

"I could never, Dazai-san…!" I protested "I am nowhere near you…!"

"That's right. But you are above the others, and that is all that matters. You can lead in my stead if needed. Mmh, it's actually better to keep you alive." He seemed to think aloud "There are more pros than cons…"

"I am not a tool…" I reminded him, vexed.

"No, you are my subordinate." He agreed.

In his mouth, it did not sound too different…

"Oh~ It could be interesting, giving you Yamada-san's seat…~" He mumbled, walking around the bed in deep thought "But then you couldn't be on the field anymore… What to do~? I want to see that idiot's disappointed face…~"

"What does it matter, anyway? Can I even fight again with that body? Just give me paperwork if all you need is my brain…" I groaned.

"You will fight again." He declared "Why couldn't you? Just rest and take your treatment. It is a matter of time before you are physically back on your feet, anyway. And give up on morphine; I'll grant you sleep from now on."

"Dazai-san!" I burst, unable to hold it in any longer "Did… Did you even pay attention when we were talking…? Were you even sincere…?!"

His fist hit the wall, suddenly, and I jumped in fear. I had given him my loyalty, I had been honest with him… Had he manipulated me again…? He did not move. His back was toward me. I was about to say something when a small detail caught my attention. His hand, the one that had punched the wall, was trembling. He let it fall to his side.

"You must be useful…" He hissed between his teeth "I have to find some use in you, even while you are recovering…"

The bandage covering his skin was slowly reddening as he muttered incoherent words and I sighed. I understood, although too late again.

"There is… There is a position I can occupy, even in this bed…" I spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence "If my presence serves a purpose, the Port Mafia won't need to get rid of me."

"What is it…?" He slowly turned around.

"I believe a lieutenant is still missing in your squadron, Dazai-san. Until I recover, I could lead the men from afar and take care of lower missions for you. Then, once I am better and able to fight, I can accompany them directly." I suggested "Besides, it will drastically decrease your paperwork… Which is at your advantage, isn't it?"

I cracked a small smile and waited for his response. He really did not want me to die, that I was sure of. However, the organisation did not care about damaged goods. If I did not prove myself to be more than a disposable pawn, an order to abandon me would be given, forcing my superior to either eliminate me or let me rot somewhere. In both cases, I would die.

"A lieutenant… It is true that I don't have that." He held his chin a second "Very well, I shall promote you. After all, I never got to reward you properly for your contribution to the fight against the Sicilian Mafia."

He gave me an understanding smirk, and I nodded, accepting the offer.

"Thank you, Dazai-san. I will strive not to disappoint you."

"Good. Take a week off for your initial recovery, then I will send the first piles of paperwork to you."

"Thank you for your consideration."

"Also… Odasaku may or may not visit you later… I remember he knows a cheap yet clean place not far from the headquarters." He added, heading toward the door "Ask him about it, I'm sure he'll be glad to answer you. Dust is bad for your lungs."

I chuckled once he exited the infirmary, and laid back on the bed. There I was, alive, already impatient to discover the paperwork he had promised. It was a good feeling, breathing, even if I still felt uncomfortable. I did not want to die anymore. There were still things I needed to do and a superior somehow counting on me. I could not let him down… And I wanted to see the sun set on Yokohama once again.

It was wonderful to exist again.

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#bsd #bsd oc #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #dazai osamu

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doomstypewriter · 4 years ago

Text

I finally brought myself to writing something for the Untamed/Mdzs fandom, would you look at that!

This fic consists of one chapter and an epilogue (that I shall write next week).

AO3

Summary: A collection of moments over the years in which Lan Wangji waits and struggles to survive his grief. -- How could someone so vocal in life lay so silent in death? Missing. Wei Ying’s spirit was missing from the land; his body too, not even there to bury, to memorialise. He would never dress in anything but white for the remainder of his life. Wei Ying was missing and Lan Zhan missed him.

Words: 2439

TW: This is heavy on angst. Really heavy, and at some points it can kinda hint at depression (not fully, but I have left a window for it to be able to be interpreted as such). It also deals with a lot of grief. (If there are any other things that I need to add to this list, please, do tell me).

“It must be one of the worst ways of suffering, to lose someone you hold so dearly, don’t you agree, Hanguang-Jun?”

Jin Guangyao’s comment caught him by surprise. Today was not a day in which he felt with the disposition to gift his attention liberally, less after having spent it on listening to the rest of the sect’s leaders.

They had gathered in a council to discuss politics and, of course, the repercussions of demonic cultivation two years after its founder had passed away. Exactly two years later.

Nobody had let go unnoticed the entrance of Jiang Wanyin. It did not seem out of the ordinary, given that he found himself leading one of the most powerful sects, however, that was not the reason why he stood out. Even if every eye had set on him, no one had the guts to stare at his face on the second anniversary of his shijie’s death.

Maybe that is why refocusing his attention from a place of bitter introspection to a conversation he did not wish to have served him of very little comfort. Anyhow, he could not afford to offend Lianfang-Zun.

Before he even got the chance to intervene, his interlocutor spoke again:

“My apologies”, he retracted with the usual mastery, “perhaps today is not the best time to talk of such things, having so many other important matters to discuss”.

A glance at the expression of veiled pity and shame that his brother and Jin Guangyao, respectively, shared let him know what they had said wordlessly. A warning, or rather a petition. “Please treat the grief of my brother with kindness”.

Lan Wangji nodded, not knowing any better way to reply.

‘Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you never say much, do you? Don’t worry, I’ll speak for both of us’ that’s what Wei Ying would have said, had he been there, with his lively smile and his skills balancing Lan Wangi’s own.

There was no response.

Yet another evening without an answer.

He did not believe that his fingertips could hurt after years being used to playing for hours, to testify for that were the callouses he’d earned with the extensive practice that had made him such a good instrumentalist and fighter. Yet, the pain still flowed from the strings to his fingers, howling through chords without response.

How could someone so vocal in life lay so silent in death?

Missing.

Wei Ying’s spirit was missing from the land; his body too, not even there to bury, to memorialise. He would never dress in anything but white for the remainder of his life.

Wei Ying was missing and Lan Zhan missed him.

His uncle gave him an eyebrow raise in all but the expression when he chose A-Yuan’s courtesy name. Lan Wangji could not help but to get a sense of estrangement by looking at his shifu, when had it become like this? By asking that, he did not mean the open air of disapproval in their conversations, that started the moment Lan Wangji fell in love with Wei Ying and consolidated itself when he attacked the elders, he knew as much. No.

When had his uncle begun to see Wangji as a looking glass, that offered passage to a vision of his own worst nightmares and greatest failures?

Even worse, how could he have become the living ghost of his father?

Shizui meant to yearn. His uncle could tell who Lan Wangji was yearning for, but could he see his own yearning, the agony present in his eyes every time he watched him and Xichen? Most likely. The knowledge of that truth must weigh heavily.

The arrival back to Gusu was swift. Both he and his brother traveled light, as per usual when urgent matters occurred.

Such was the case of a conflict regarding intense resentful energy within Qinghe, for which Sect Leader Nie Huaisang had appointed them. An outburst of demonic energy had subjected great commotion within a minor city and was said to need urgent attention. Nie Huaisang, not knowing how to deal with the issue himself and concerned to further disclose it to the other sects, as it would surely catch the eye of Jiang Wanyin and arise his own resentment over a certain somebody, had instead opted for writing to his brother and request his help. Upon reading the letter, Xichen asked for his assistance in this occasion, saying that their uncle could attend to the matters of the Lan Sect in their absence. Lan Wangji obliged.

The incident turned out to be, indeed, of most interest. A circle of local and external parties had reunited inside of a crypt hidden beneath an inn to perform a ritual of sorts. As a direct consequence, the establishment above, along with all of their clients, had been blown away by the never-before-seen resentful energy. He had recommended for the place to be sealed off and purified every ten days for the next twenty years to ensure the safety of those living in the city. His brother and him then focused on shedding some light on how it all came to be, but were unable to reach a satisfactory clarification, given that the main culprits had perished and Inquiry proved to be ineffective. They theorised their spiritual conscience had been shattered, too, by the resentment’s magnitude.

After almost three weeks away, they set back to Gusu, promising to further investigate using the resources within the library, but settled the matter closed for the time being. Riding their swords was most welcome as a means of travel, reducing the journey to two days, instead of the week it would take by land.

Gentians’ fragrance filled the air on his path back to the Jingshi. Reluctantly, he admitted to himself he had missed the comfort of its familiarity. Even if said familiarity meant the pang of memories and grief, returning gave him a sense of peace.

He entered his living quarters. Any and all thought left his head with what presented before him. Not what, who.

“Lan Zhan!”

Wei Wuxian sat by the desk, drinking from one of the uncovered vases of his hidden stack of Emperor’s Smile.

“Don’t look at me like that”, he pouted. “I know it’s against the rules, but you can’t possibly be so mean to someone who has just traveled for a week to see you” Wei Wuxian finished adding a smile.

“You’re back”.

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. An air of doubt passed through his expression.

“You once asked me to come to Gusu with you”.

“Hmm”.

“What can I say, it is your fault for not saying when…”

Wei Wuxian stood up, leaving the wine behind, to get to where Lan Wangji stood.

“Now I’m here, can I be here?” he stole a quick glance at Lan Wangji’s hands, as if trying to make up his mind, and then took both in his, bringing the two pairs together in between them. “What I’m saying is, I want to stay by your side, teach A-Yuan to shoot arrows, feed the rabbits, and whatever boring things you do in Gusu, I want to do those with you”.

Wei Ying’s smile hid a shade of embarrassment, the novelty of a realisation, a confession.

This very thing gave Lan Wangji a surge of confidence to kiss the hands that intertwined with his. A softness enveloped each kiss, not only because of the pressure but for the years of longing enclosed in each contact.

“You love me”.

“Ah, Hanguang-Jun, am I such a bad influence that you’ve become this shameless? What would your uncle say?” Wei Ying gifted him with a mischievous grin. “Don’t be mad, Lan Zhan, I’m only teasing you, it’s too easy”.

A trembled ensued when the pressure of Wei Ying’s lips caressed his hands, mirroring his previous gesture.

“I do love you”.

Oh. Lan Wangji said to himself.

Another realisation.

“Wei Ying did not love me”.

The one in front of him laughed in response.

“If so, then who am I?”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes and kissed his forehead, making him catch his breath.

“Not real”.

He woke up to the tickling of tears. A trail of bitterness stained his face. The merciless reality of the image of the Jingshi, turned monochrome by the dimness of night, rendered him helpless. How small it seemed to be in a world made so big by the hole torn with Wei Ying’s absence. His heart’s willingness to deny the facts, to rush back and check the Burial Mounds once again, surfaced yet another night. This vain disposition had to be snuffed out. Wei Ying would not come back to Gusu with him.

And the knowledge of said truth did grow heavily indeed.

A-Yuan, now turned Lan Shizui, grew up faster than anticipated.

Of course, that was not true. Everybody becomes older at a steady pace, set by time only. And yet… the years had seemed to merge in such a way that it simultaneously appeared to him that an eternity had been caught in the blink of an eye, but he had not possessed a second to taste it. How could he? Moreso when the aftertaste left such sourness.

If only Wei Ying could have guided Shizui for all these years. He had to wonder how their… his son would have turned out to be. Would they recognise each other in the sharpness of their minds? Could Wei Ying’s smile show on Shizui’s face as more than the infrequent sliver he so desperately searched for? Seeking it just to feel shame at his boldness immediately afterwards. He had always vowed to treat Shizui as his own person, succeeding at it for the most part, but, at certain points in time he could not help but to ponder on the shadow his former soulmate casted onto the child.

Oftentimes Shizui came to the Jingshi to practice his skills on the guqin. Most should assume he did so in order to receive advice regarding his playing, such was the case… almost every time. There were moments, seconds, in which he could see the pride in Shizui’s eyes. Of course, such behaviour was forbidden and he quickly censored himself.

But it was there, nonetheless.

“You stopped” Lan Wangji observed, finally, opening his eyes and dropping his meditation position.

Shizui looked up from the table in which he had laid out a piece of paper and writing utensils. When did he do that? Oh, Lan Wangji must have been too entertained by his own thoughts to notice it in time.

“Yes, I did. Should I go over the pieces again, father?” he asked, gesturing to retrieve the guqin.

“That won’t be needed”.

“Then I will be leaving momentarily, it will be nine in not so long”.

Lan Wangji answered by giving a small nod.

“Thank you…”

“What is it?”

“I made this once I finished practicing”.

Shizui moved towards him, holding the piece of paper loosely in his hand. He placed it carefully on the table in front of Lan Wangji. And there it was: a drawing. Not unlike the one Wei Ying had made of him so many years ago. The style appeared far less whimsical, yet, not as observant as it’s counterpart. How unfortunate, the implications of said realisation. Did Wei Ying pay attention to him to such an extent?

No need to wander about what could have been. For it was pointless.

Shizui’s linework showed off preciseness and finesse, paired up with a great sense of depth in the interpretation of lights and shadows. Lan Wangji could not help but to smile at the display of talent.

“Thank you, A-Yuan”.

In spite of having stated his intent to leave, Shizui stood in front of him, as if debating something. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind. Right after a change of expression, he threw himself at Lan Wangji’s side and hugged him tightly.

“Hmm?”

“I’m afraid. Sometimes you leave somewhere distant, father, and I’m afraid”.

‘Please…’ Lan Wangji pleaded stricken with panic.

Mishearing a collection of sounds.

If someone had told him that would bring upon him the most terrifying experience of his life… Lan Wangji would have simply given them a look of disdain. How could that elicit fear from him when he had been witness to the love of his life letting go of one bleeding arm. He thought about the Xuanwu of Slaughter, that cave where Wei Ying had fallen asleep while he sang to him, looking so pale it almost appeared as if death had claimed him already and spared him. Gods, death had pardoned him from falling alongside Wei Ying! He could think of no greater torture.

And yet, he found himself running like a desperate man through the outskirts of Dafan Mountain, dodging natural obstacles with none of his usual poise.

An eco.

That’s what had set him so far off who he had barely managed to see himself become during the last sixteen years. His spirit, his heart, mummified shrouded by the mourning clothes he had begun to wear to somehow memorialise the departure of his life.

That attire flung forward and backwards, moved by the winds.

Please.

Jin Guangyao was right, all those years ago. Now that maybe, maybe, he could be returned to him, loosing him again would only bear the worst king of suffering.

Have this not be another call without answer.

No matter what uncle saw when he stared at him.

He would accept any new whip scar a thousand times over to just have him be real, wake up in a world where he existed.

Anything.

Anything would be better than missing him so. Better than the memory of the initial years, spending every night crying himself to sleep for the first time in his life. Better than breathing just to pretend the sensation filled the empty within his lungs.

He ran. He ran like his life depended on it, because, maybe, it did.

With each step the world burned and it didn’t matter. The sound became clearer and nothing else mattered. He had lived through sixteen years of snuffing hopefulness and finding sustenance in the memory of a song he had once sung in a cave, but, now that he heard it, maybe it had been worth it.

He began to sprint in spite of how scary the idea of a world with him suddenly became, a place where he could lose him again. His figure almost flew across the forest, because he would not allow it. Lan Wangji was never losing Wei Ying twice.

Right then, he reached the clearing.

Thanks a lot for reading!!! If I butchered the spelling of some name or term, please tell me!

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saladejin · 5 years ago

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Les Amoureux | Jungkook

Jungkook x Reader | theatre!au, musicals & singing | Fluff and crack, heavy use of musical theatre references

Summary: Your favourite backstage buddy tries his best to crack down on why you’re so attracted to stage actors, but he knows you’ve only got eyes for him in the end.

Warnings: None, having knowledge of some well-known musicals will make this more enjoyable though

Word Count: 2.3k (basically a drabble)

! ! ! READ BEFORE CONTINUING ! ! ! This one-shot has some references to a couple of musicals, and if you're not familiar with these then I'm afraid it might go over your head in some parts. The references are from the shows 'Phantom of the Opera' and 'Les Misérables', and I will leave a note at the end of which songs are included if you wish to listen for yourself. Otherwise, it probably won't make sense and won't be as enjoyable :/ I strongly urge you to listen to this song during the last part of the one-shot, or at least listen beforehand to grasp the dynamics and line exchanges: A Heart Full of Love (I fast-forwarded for you) *Request from my Ao3 series ‘Movie Night’.

“What is it about stage actors that you find so attractive?”

You lifted your head from where you were sewing up a hole in a costume, the frilly pink material bunching up around your hands until you could barely see where the needle was going. Your fellow crew member, Jeon Jungkook, had heaved himself up to sit on one of the nearby desks. Clearly, the poor boy was bored out of his mind.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You smirked, eyeing him in a teasing manner while finishing off the costume repair swiftly.

The late-night musical you guys were helping backstage for had already begun twenty minutes prior, and after having nothing to do for another three songs, you had both ventured down towards the change rooms to get some work done in the meantime. Well, to be fair it was more like you had sought out the jobs while Jungkook just wanted to pass time in the company of his closest theatre friend.

“Surely you’re not blinded by those flashy costumes,” The dark-haired man scrunched his nose up in a playful cringe.

“Think harder, Jeon,” You chuckled at his antics, noticing the way he bounced his leg up and down while he thought. The energetic boy was dressed in all black just as you were, since it was a requirement of all crew members in order to remain unseen by the audience if they needed to be on stage at any point.

You couldn’t help your eyes from wandering along his impressive physique, all pressed up in a black high-necked skivvy and tight black jeans.

“Us crew guys work out just as much as those pretty boys do, probably even more. Plus, I hear the stylists complaining about the hair they have to deal with every night,” Jungkook continued to try and sway your mind, obviously getting a kick out of picking your brain and earning your mild reactions of laughter and amusement in return.

“You think your hair is much better?” You let out a single breath of bewilderment and tried to keep your widening smile at bay. He was too cute in the way his eyes widened and brows furrowed with mock offense, the man reaching a hand up to ruffle his soft looking brown tresses.

“What’s wrong with – hey I’m not done!”

You bit your lip to hold back an amused grin, proceeding to leave the room and make your way down the stairs to return the pink dress to the costume area. The sound of Jungkook’s clunky footsteps let you know he was following closely behind to continue his investigation.

“Oh, I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, it’s the popularity. Being out in the spotlight. The fame and attention that comes with it,” He said in a matter-of-factly tone, and you could hear the playful bunny smile interwoven through his voice as he spoke.

“Is it? And how shallow do you think I am, Jeon?” You quipped, trying to ignore his warm breath brushing the back of your neck once you stopped to pull open the door. The light-hearted and joking attitude he adopted was so radiant, and you swore you would never get enough of his overwhelming charm and charisma.

You turned around after putting the dress down, lifting one finger to point and rest against the skin of your throat so he would catch the hint. Almost instantly, his head was thrown back as the epiphany struck, and a loud ‘ah!’ tumbled from his lips.

“Of course it’s the voice. God, I should’ve seen that from a mile away!” He groaned and met your eyes with his own sparkling coffee-brown ones. You could bet your last dollar that the cheeky guy already knew you had a thing for the stage actors with their beautiful voices and their strong dramatic acting, but he really did love to string you along and push all of your buttons.

“Get me a man who can sing his way to my heart,” You teased once more, knowing that he would instantly be thinking of what to do with this new information. You left him standing in the smaller costume room in his weird daze, wondering what else you could fix up before returning side stage to assist with the ongoing show.

A loud clutter sounded from the room you just left, and you felt a small stab of anxiety that someone would come down here and catch the two of you messing around (even though you were doing your best to be helpful at least), but you only exhaled in relief as Jungkook swept out of the small doorway with a flamboyance even your precious stage actors couldn’t rival.

You rolled your eyes at the goofball of a man in front of you.

“Not doing anything for you?” Jungkook hummed curiously, even though he knew exactly how little his little skit was ‘doing’ for you. Slowly, he peeled the extravagant Indian styled headdress from his dusty brown locks and eyed you with a newfound glint of amusement in his brightening doe eyes.

“Or….” He hummed lowly, eyeing you with a pointed gaze and a cheery lilt to his tone. “It’s not the voice, but rather the song.”

“What?” You felt your brows knit together in confusion.

“Show tunes, there’s not a woman in this world that could resist ‘em,” he continued, not phased in the slightest. You couldn’t help but let a warm feeling of fondness wash over you as he began singing softly. Though you appreciated any decent male vocalist, his voice in particular was your ultimate weakness in the end.

“Night time sharpens; heightens each sensation.”

“Jeon don’t you dare,” You grunted, knowing exactly where this was going. In the midst of the ongoing show upon the stage upstairs, the two of you were quite alone down in the change room area. While the sounds of thumping feet and cascading music echoed from above, you both only fixed your attention on one another.

Jungkook’s eyes gleamed as he left the first line of ‘Music of the Night’ hang in the air precariously, only moving to hide himself behind a rack of costumes a second later. From your seat on one of the makeup artist’s benchtop, you could just catch a tiny glimpse of a shaggy tuft of hair sticking up from behind the line of cloaks.

“You’re so lucky nobody’s-”

You cut yourself off as he rounded the edge of the rack from the other side, now wrapped in a dark midnight black cloak and lifting it to hide half his face. Just like the Phantom of the Opera himself.

“Silently the senses, abandon their defences!”

“Pfft… you’re such a dork,” You cackled and almost went toppling off the benchtop. He lifted one corner of his lips into a smirk and you felt your heart constrict at the sight. He was so charming, yet so silly. You didn’t know whether you wanted to smack him or kiss him right there in the room shrouded in shadow.

Wanting to humour him and his playful antics, you launched yourself off the bench and snatched a curly black wig from a nearby polystyrene head. You didn’t have a white dress, but you were sure he’d catch on.

“Angel of Music…Guide and guardian,” You sang through the various giggles falling from your lips. Your voice, though not terrible, could never match his stunning rendition of the two songs.

“Grant to me your glory~”

His eyes lit up at your eagerness, and he only got into character further by sidling up to you and stroking a delicate hand down the side of your face. The very picture of Christine and the Phantom themselves, you might say. With a dark glint in his eye, Jungkook looked like he was ready to sweep you off your feet, but the next sentence that graced your ears wasn’t what you were expecting to hear.

“Hmm, I don’t know… the words~”

With that you broke your façade and fell into his side, unable to hold back the laugh bubbling in your chest. “Here you are trying to woo me with show tunes, but you don’t know any!”

“Hey!” He gasped and retorted in protest, “I know plenty, thank you very much.”

“Where are they then?” You placed your hands on your hips with one eyebrow raised, knowing just how stupid you looked with the curly wig perched on your head, judging by the way the man in front of you was trying to stifle his shit-eating grin. He was looking rather funny himself with that massive black cloak hiding his entire body, enough so that only his head was poking out the top cutely.

“Um, hold on…”

You pursed your lips in amusement as he rushed away towards another costume rack. Not even wanting to know what he was doing, you stepped away and placed the scratchy wig back in its place.

“Master of the house, doling out the charm; ready with a handshake and an open palm!”

You whirled around to catch your hopeless counterpart as he threw a stained rag over one shoulder and started stumbling around as if in a drunken stupor. You couldn’t contain your peals of laughter at this point, it was all so hilarious and dumb that the show upstairs was all but forgotten. Jungkook found your amusement contagious and broke character almost immediately, watching you affectionately as he leaned against the wall for support.

“You know,” You sighed after coming down from your high, “Pretty much every song in that musical is depressing as fuck.”

The man smirked and made sure to leave the rag folded nicely on the nearest makeup bench, shaking his head roughly to try and get rid of any excess dust from the headdress he wore in the very beginning.

“Yeah, well ‘Les Misérables’ literally translates to ‘the miserable ones’. What can you expect? Help me out here,” He whined, faking an adorable pout while you once again suppressed your foolish smiling.

“I said pretty much every song, not all of them,” You cleared your throat. “You forget how many themes of love and romance are in there, Kookie.”

His eyes brightened at the sound of the nickname. It was rare for you to slip like this, as calling him by his last name or just ‘Jungkook’ was what stuck when you guys were hard at work at the theatre. Outside of that world, your walls would come down slightly and you’d grant him many nicknames and cute terms of friendly endearment. This time, however, your heart had somewhat betrayed you.

“Right,” He smiled softly, tearing his eyes away from you to sweep his hair off his forehead in a rush to clean up his messy act. To you, the movement was unfairly attractive, as it granted a great view of his arms and biceps through the long black sleeves of his shirt. All of a sudden, sweet dulcet melodies in the form of his voice graced your ears.

“A heart full of love…. A heart full of song.”

You almost melted on the spot at the way he sang the beautiful lines, wondering for a split second if they held any deeper meaning from the way his eyes had locked onto you so intensely. He was always like this, gaining such a gentle maturity when you least expected it. You eagerly returned his offer to duet, pushing yourself off the wall to meet him in the centre of the room.

“A heart full of love,” You laughed airily through the line. “No fear. No regret…”

“My name is Je-on Jungkookie,” He sang in a terrible French accent, almost breaking it with a chuckle when you laughed at his sneaky lyric change. It should’ve been ‘Marius Pontmercy’, a principal character from the show, but you let it slide and played along by switching your own line.

“And mine’s (Y/n).”

“(Y/n), I don’t know what to say,” Jungkook continued without fault, taking up your hands in his and giving you a slow spin around the empty space. You wanted to lose yourself in the feeling of his warm embrace and dainty fingers threading through your own.

“Then make no sound,” You almost whispered.

“I am lost,” He sang quietly, pulling you in close.

“I am found,” You leaned forward, feeling his warm breath brush your parted lips ever so slightly. If you both only had the soothing orchestra surrounding you as the scene played out, it would have been undeniably perfect; a tender moment caught in time.

“Do I dream?” He breathed after a few seconds had gone by, almost as if forgetting himself within the song. Your faces were inches apart, and you would’ve forgiven him for skipping an entire verse if he would only close the space between you, a gap you so often wanted gone the more time you spent together like this.

His gentle hands swept your loose strands of hair behind your ear as his doe eyes fluttered shut, leaning closer and closer.

You were ready to finally let him have his way with you, the taste of those pretty lips which were so often stretched into a smile around his adorable bunny-like teeth were right there, but the sound of loud trumpets and thundering footsteps echoing from above pulled you away from his minty scent.

That sounds like…

“Shit, we missed our cue!”

His eyes blew wide and your breath hitched in panic.

Then you were flying up the stairs like there was no tomorrow. Your breathless stream of apologies to the poor people that had to fill in for you seemed to never end, and you felt the guilt eating you up from the inside as you and your pesky crewmate stood rigidly side by side next to the stage manager’s desk.

“Am I irresistible yet?” Jungkook murmured while letting his elbow nudge your arm. It was hard to see due to dark lighting, but you could easily make out the man’s knowing smirk and the gleam in his impish gaze.

“Take my cleaning duty for the week, Jeon, and I’ll think about it.”

Songs included (I fast-forwarded to the timestamps for you guys):

Phantom of the Opera: 'Music of the Night' - Jungkook sings the first line/s 'The Mirror (Angel of Music)' - You sing this Les Misérables: 'Master of the House' - Jungkook sings this line 'A Heart Full of Love' - linked in the beginning notes -------------------------------------------------------------------- A/N- Hope this was somewhat okay. I love musicals so it kind of ran away from me, and I know that not many people probably share this love or knowledge of them. I'm so sorry T-T Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #BTS jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook crack #musicals #one-shot #phantom of the opera #les miserables #reader insert #this is so cringeworthy i'm sorry #i truly am #this happened out of nowhere #please dont judge me #lol

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prisoncitystories · 4 years ago

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Fiction: Just Another Day at the Office

The smoke from the cigarette wafted freely through the air like the sultry melody of the dingy saxophone on the radio. I, however, was tied to a chair.

“What shall we do with the pig, Ms. Morgana?” The thug in the dragon mask said to his partner.

“Surely, we can have a little fun before we gut him, Mr. Pendragon,” Ms. Morgana replied. The pair are part of the Round Table Gang, the latest colorful characters to hit the city with their own particular brand of crime. Of course, they chose the boring task of robbing banks but really who’s keeping track, right?

“Fun, huh? What are we playing? Parcheesi?” I say, with a smirk. Pendragon rears up a fist and drives it right into my gut. I feel his knuckles press against the skin through my shirt. Thankfully, this isn’t my first rodeo.

“Quiet, pig!” Pendragon said. “How about a different game? Five finger fillet?” Pendragon pulled out a knife, waving it back and forth in front of my face.

“Maybe we could play chess, instead?” I said, edging him further. He threw his fist into my stomach again, this time a little harder. Thankfully, he didn’t notice my slight adjustment to put most of the pressure on the back of the wooden chair. A few more moves and the knight would take the bishop.

“Yeah, wrong supervillain, mate. Chess makes my head hurt. Now, Ms. Morgana, she’s the only one smart enough to handle that black and white board.” He said, turning to her and grazing her ornate horse mask granting him a devilish purple-lipped smile.

“Oh? I just assumed you were the same annoying, narcissistic, backwards-” I said, interrupted by a slap across the face from Morgana.

“I’ve trained you so well.” Pendragon said, pulling Morgana into a kiss. Who says crime doesn’t pay?

“If you’d like me to come back, I’d be happy to go. Otherwise, let’s get this threesome underway.” Pendragon stopped and turned to me. Even underneath the red dragon mask, I could tell I was getting on his nerves. It’s all in the eyes. The little flicker that hides a deep, deep rage and right now, my voice and face are like a broken urn full of oil.

“If you speak one more time, I swear to the gods I will cut your tongue out. Do you understand?” I remain silent. “Do you understand or are you just as dumb as we thought you to be?” He repeated much angrier.

“You told me if I spoke that you’d cut my tongue out. Not an outcome I’m betting on if we’re being honest here.” His face turned to stunned surprise and he brandished his knife again. He raised his leg to boot me backwards and I made my move. As he sent his leg toward my chest, I titled the chair back with my feet that could still touch the floor even tied up, sending me back faster than his boot could catch. While his boot was catching nothing but air, the chair was breaking against the cold concrete. I was initially a little jarred as my hands were the meat in a wood-concrete sandwich (which really hurt), but I quickly scrambled to my feet as Ms. Morgana regained her composure from the sight.

“Why you little bastard!” She said, sparking up her electrified gloves. I have to stay away from those. She stepped forward but her form was so uneasy. Unfortunately for her, confidence isn’t everything. She swiped like a cat and I only narrowly avoided a swift jolt by deflecting her strike with my forearm. I did the same maneuver but this time added a leg sweep, surprising her and sending her to the floor. I heard the clatter of a knife behind me as Pendragon swiped his knife, gashing my thin black necktie in the process.

“Eh, I never really liked it anyway. Gift from a few exes ago,” I said as he continued swiping. Similar to Morgana, I had to subdue him by using his strikes against him. I batted his arm aside as he hacked and slashed and when the moment opened up, I used a classic disarm and sent the knife out of his hand and back to the floor. Suddenly, I felt way too many volts pass through my leg, bringing me to my knees.

“What kind of detective are you? You fight like a drunkard. You can’t even disarm us both.” Pendragon said. He walked over to pick up his knife again as Morgana stood back up and placed one of her gloves on my shoulder. “Any last words, pig? You blew your chances on a last request.”

“Is it just you and Morgana or are Percival, Lancelot, and Galahad screwing around in your pants too?” I said, baiting him again. As he drove the knife forward, I ducked to the side making him lunge a little too far towards Morgana. I grabbed her arm at her forearm and hand and pushed them into Pendragon’s gut and activated the shock gloves. The electricity ran through him and sent him toppling. I shot up and brought a swift elbow to Morgana’s chin, flooring her as well. I finished her off with a blow to her face. I walked over to the table where that cigarette was still burning. I picked it up, began a drag, but quickly pulled the disgusting thing away.

“Menthols? Dear gods, you guys really are stupid,” I said, throwing the cigarette on the ground, stamping it out, and clicking off the jazz music at the radio. I look around the dingy, chip-titled torture room and find my coat hanging on a coat rack. “At least they aren’t savages.”

I made sure they didn’t steal anything. Pockets still have all my belongings. For bank robbers, they certainly aren’t great at petty theft. I throw the brown trench back on and move towards the door. I slowly turn the handle and open the door to the hallway where fortunately the other members of the gang are not waiting for me. I handled Pendragon and Morgana easily but three more thugs would land me back in the chair. Not to mention if they’ve added more since their last hit. We’ve been chasing them around the city for about three months, and they’ve robbed four banks in that time. We still can’t peg why they would need that much cash or how they could possibly spend it. They certainly aren’t investing in a headquarters.

Suddenly, I hear a voice from around the corner. I slink behind an open door in the hallway, making sure just to stand in the doorway and not shut the door. I spied through the peephole and saw a blue wolf mask. Lancelot. I think our dossier said he was a sharpshooter. Seems like he’d be useless in a fist fight. He was radioing to someone on his walkie.

“Pendragon, you done with the cop yet? Pendragon, I said are you done with the cop yet?” He put his walkie-talkie back in its holster and pulled out his sidearm. Something street trash would use, not really the mark of a deadeye. “By the gods, do I have to do everything myself?” He said, scoffing and stomping down the hall. I moved into the open room and behind the wall as he walked by towards the torture room. He opened the door and before he could reach for his walkie, I sprang into action and put him in a headlock. He quickly pushed back and slammed me into the wall behind us, but I held firm. I knew if he even got one good aim with his pistol, I was toast. He stomped his feet wildly, trying to bash me anyway he could. He bashed me back again, this time against the door frame, loosening my grip. We both fell to the floor, me out of breath and him gasping for air. We both took a second to regain our bearings and then shared a brief cutting moment. He got up quicker than I could and kneed me in the face. I shook off the throbbing pain and used the wall behind me to brace myself.

“Percival, Galahad, get-” He started to say into his walkie-talkie but I gave him a solid haymaker to the head.

“Now now, none of that.” I said, taunting him. I used his imbalance to disarm him of his gun, sending it to the floor. He grabbed my neck, but I kicked his legs out from under him. I used the momentum of the fall to bring my forearm down on his face, disorienting him again. He relinquished my neck and I dealt him a clean knockout blow to his smug face. I stood up and dusted myself off and down the hall were the last two members of the Round Table Gang, Mr. Percival and Mr. Galahad, staring at me. I was admittedly a little disoriented from the last two altercations but I can’t imagine I was getting out of here without at least one more.

“Well come on then. Let’s go.” I said, putting up my dukes once more. I examined the two of them briefly, really hoping that Percival came at me first. He was small, compact. Intel said he was the demolitions expert of the group. Can’t be that great of a fighter either, although Lancelot surprised me. He adjusted his gold hawk mask. Mr. Galahad was much larger and muscular than his counterpart. Comically, he had a green cat mask. I don’t know what these guys’ fascination with stupid masks is. Galahad came stomping towards me.

I delivered several quick blows to his abdomen which frankly hurt my knuckles quite a bit. He just chuckled.

“That ain’t going to work, little man.” Unfortunately, he was right. I had to use his weight against him. He reared up for a downward strike, but I only narrowly avoided piledriver fist to the top of my skull. He came down on my shoulder which sent pain through my arm. I used the other arm to swing a fist, tilting his head to the side. He cocked his head back at me and I could see the annoyed look in his eyes. He grabbed me by the shoulders and sent me swinging through one of the walls of the hallway and into the room I initially hid from Lancelot in. Same dingy tile as the other room hit the back of my head hard.

“You call that a throw? Better invest in some gym memberships, mate.” I said, as he stepped through the me-shaped hole he just created. “Although your budget might be taken up by renovations.” He didn’t care for the banter. He stomped up to me and raised his leg up to smash me, but I rolled to the right. The tile cracked underneath and I got an idea. While his foot was still depressed, I swung my body around and kicked his stomped leg with all the force I could muster. His leg jutted further into the floor as he fell and the angle caused him to slam down harder than just a simple fall would do. I clumsily stood up and went to the groaning bastard.

“Nighty night, kitty cat.” I said, stomping his face and breaking his mask in the progress. I briefly take a look at his face. Ugly bastard, really. Maybe it was better with the mask intact. “Alright, Percival. We both know you’re a cowardly bastard so let’s get this over with. If you come quietly, I won’t have to break your nose too.” I said, walking out into the hallway and Percival was kneeling on the ground and he had already cuffed himself.

“Please don’t hurt me! Just don’t tell the others I surrendered.” I chuckled at the weakling. Just another day at the office, I suppose.

#prison city #detective squall goode #round table gang #mr. pendragon #ms. morgana #mr. lancelot #mr. percival #mr. galahad #dnd #dnd homebrew #prison city stories #noir

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vintage-story-time · 4 years ago

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MANHATTAN MADNESS by Chili Peeler

Chapter 13

Elizabeth wasn't sure what was happening. It had sounded like Julie's client had maybe shot his wad; he'd groaned after pushing her mouth away. All she could do was wait and see what Julie made her do next. The bed shifted a few times but no one was talking. She wondered why the client hadn't spoken, usually they liked to talk dirty or whisper sweet nothings but this one was letting Julie do all the talking. 'He's a strange one...but I like him.' The bed shifted again and she felt a pair of feet push against her thighs. "Up on your knees," Julie said just to her left. She stood on her knees and felt Stud's feet slide under her. Then she felt Julie's hand grab her upper arm and steer her forward.

"Per your wishes, your stud is ready to fuck your hot pussy," Julie's sensuous voice informed her. 'Per my wishes? What the hell's Julie talking about?' Elizabeth wasn't really surprised; a guy pays what this guy is paying, he's gonna want to finish in what he was paying for. And on this occasion, at least, Elizabeth was glad. There was something about this guy that really turned her on. She felt his thighs filling the gap between her knees and then a pair of hands wrapped around her latex-covered ass and she was pulled against him. She felt the hot poker of his cock mashed against her crotch, right against her clit. Wantonly, she rubbed herself against his hardness. Jim rubbed right back at the shiny lapfull of woman, pulling her ass into him. She was grinding herself on his sandwiched cock like a pro, the rubbery-slick E-size bust of the suit rubbing into his chest, her slack mouth only nine or ten inches from her own, her red lipstick all but gone now, the remnants smeared. Whoever she was, she really was getting her money's worth. "Look at that cockteaser," Julie said from her new position on her knees by the side of the bed just behind Kitten, the lapdancer. "She's looking forward to this...her pussy's still leaking all kinds of juice." Julie must have had a great view between Kitten's spread legs. "Enough fucking foreplay. Pull her ass up, Stud!" Jim dipped his hands lower, reaching for the bottom swells of her ass. The back of the crotchless area of the suit had exposed skin there and it made Jim's cock throb to think the suit could also accommodate a little anal action. With his palms full of latex and his fingers dug into her silky ass, he lifted her hips higher. Jim felt Kitten's crotch slide off his cockknob and almost immediately his dick was grabbed by a hand. 'Julie!' Jim realized, 'All right, help me fuck her.' He felt Julie slowly drag his cockhead through Kitten's cunt lips, back and forth, back and forth. "Here it is, Kitten.....hard, fat cock.....show me you want it!" Julie now teased her client. Kitten begin to undulate her ass, talking with her body. Elizabeth could feel his cockhead cruising through the folds of her sex and it was getting her hotter and hotter. Every time she'd try to position her pussy hole on the knob, her cruel roommate would shift it away. She let a loud whimper escape her lips on purpose and smiled when Julie took pity. "She does want it! Take it, stud......fuck her!" Julie hissed as she brought his knob into her notch. Elizabeth felt Stud push upward and his swollen cockhead slid up into her pussy entrance. 'God, it feels fucking good!' Elizabeth revelled to herself as his hands let her ass go and slid up to her waist. Her body weight and some skillful squirming on her part began to work his dick up her slick pussy. Julie held her breath as she watched Lizzie take her brother's cock, her fingers lightly playing over his nut sac. She watched three...four....five inches of Jim's young manhood disappear up the mouth of his sister's cunt. His hands were pushing her down on his flesh spit now, impaling her with her blessing. "MMMmmmmMMMMmMmmmmm." Lizzie's murmurs filled the mirrored room as her descent ended with a good inch of her brother's cock still showing above his hanging nuts. Julie knew that was all her lover could take; Jim's pisshole was riding against the back of her velvety channel. 'Perfect pussy..perfect!' was Jim's opinion of Kitten's clutching sexhole. He once again grabbed her butt, pulled her against him and began giving her pussy slow strokes, pulling about two inches out and then sending it back up into heaven. Kitten had been holding her body as upright as she could but now she leaned forward, letting her curvaceous slightly-tacky form lean fully against his chest. Her phony tit inserts depressed themselves to about half their previous height and Jim found her mouth was right there in front of his own. He wanted to feel the wild woman's lips on

his, even if only for a moment. Wetting his lips with his tongue, he craned his neck forward and gave her a quick kiss. He pulled back and saw a smile play across her lips. He leaned forward and kissed her again and she was ready for him. Her lips molded themselves to his in a lusty kiss with her tongue right behind. He Frenched Kitten for several minutes, all the time enjoying her wet pussy bouncing on his manhood. Eventually, she broke their kissing and covered his face with little gasps as he began fucking her stronger. He felt the bed move and looked around Kitten's side. Julie had sat on the opposite end of the bed, facing them and watching. Her left hand was squeezing a breast and her right hand was down the front of her skirt. She didn't even look at his face; just at his cock as he screwed Kitten. Elizabeth tried to help fuck herself by squeezing his sides with her knees and using her leg muscles to move her body up and down as she rotated her hips in small circles, wiggling her pussy on his quickening cockshaft. "Mmmmm....aahhhhhMmmmm...." she panted as his fucking began to send shivers through her fiery body. She could feel sweat all over her enclosed skin and knew she'd be several pounds lighter after the sizzling session. She used her cunt muscles on him, squeezing and nipping his wonderful cock. He responded with some appreciative grunts and began moving faster in her hovering loins. "Fucker harder......throw it up in her!" Julie's voice came from behind her and her client wrapped his strong arms around the top of her ass, holding her bottom motionless against him. Then he began lunging upward into her hovering pussyhole. "OOOOooooOOOOOOOOO......MMmmmmMMMMMMM!" Elizabeth couldn't keep her tongue as he strongly pounded up at her, the bed rocking under them. 'This fucker's going to get me off again,' Elizabeth knew as she ground her itchy clitty into his coarse pubic hair. 'God, look at them go!' Julie thought. She had a great view of Jim's cock being pumped up his sister's scrump. Her eyes flicked up and down the two straining bodies of the Andrews, catching every torrid nuance of their unknown incest - the way the fake ponytail swung from side to side as Elizabeth tossed her head around.....her strapped down hands clenched tight above her brother's forearms ....her shiny ass jiggling with each upstroke of her brother's cockmeat.....her sweaty, crinkled sphincter just above the junction of their bodies....the almost-sheer inner lining of her pussy being pulled briefly out on each retreat of his thick prick.....Jim's nuts bouncing off the mattress as he pistoned away. 'I wish there was some way to tell them..to get them to accept it. Me and those two all in our bed....mmmmmmm, what I wouldn't give for that.' Julie pulled her hand from her skirt to avoid coming herself; she wanted to satisfy herself with Lizzie after she hustled Jim out of the room. On the other end of the bed, Jim's grunts were taking on a new octave. 'Awwwwshit..wait...wait....' Jim was trying to do a mind-over-matter trick, trying to fight off his body's need to come, to shoot off in Kitten's milking sex walls. He felt Kitten might be near her own orgasm. Her breathing was ragged and she was slipping in moans from deep in her chest. He just couldn't wait for her; he had to hope she'd be satisfied with the fucking he'd been able to give her. "SSSSSSSSSSS...SSSSSSSSS....HHHHHHMMMMPPPFFF!" Jim's sucking breaths changed to a strangled groan as he felt his balls tighten and his cum begin racing up his juice-coated rod. Julie saw Jim ram his cock up his sister's snatch, his ass coming off the bed, and he held it deep in her as his groan reverberated around the mirrored sex chamber. Elizabeth's squeal confirmed what she thought. 'He's coming!.....coming in Lizzie....in his own sister...God, it's sooooo fucking hot!' Julie thought as she sat up and leaned forward. Jim's ass fell back on the bed, then lunged back up again. He held it up her again, his

legs shaking. Julie could only imagine what it must feel like - to have Jim's turgid prick gushing his cum inside her. Jim's hips lowered themselves and Julie saw globs of his seed clinging to his cock. His sister's stuffed twat hunched around his trembling cock and more of his pearly discharge oozed from her clinging pussy flaps. Julie let the two quiet down and breathed a sigh of relief that neither had broken the rule about speaking. There had been that risk in the throes of passion but she'd made sure that each believed they were doing a tempermental client of hers. Lizzie was used to some weird requests but Jim might have screwed it up. Now all she had to do was untangle them, get Jim out of the room, have some quick fun with Lizzie, sent her to the showers and escort Jim out to the sidewalk.

#MANHATTAN MADNESS by Chili Peeler #Chapter 13

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ikonxmx · 5 years ago

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Coke n’ Hennessy Pt. 1 | Jaehyun [M]

Jaehyun spends the night with a beautiful bartender after a really bad break up. Jaehyun x Fem Reader. Inspired by Coke & Henny Pt 1. By Pink Sweat$

Word Count: 4,569 (well damn)

Warnings: Non-Idol AU. Mentions of post-breakup depression. Mentions of unhealthy coping. Mentions of alcohol consumption. Handjob. Fingering. Spanking (light). Dirty talk. Praise. Vulgar language. (Safe 😎) Sexual and suggestive themes throughout.

This is my first post for an NCT member and I’m pretty excited about it. Hopefully, all of you will enjoy it. Also please note, it’s 2 AM in California and I didn't proofread.

Rowdy drunk screeches make up the soundtrack of the night. Jaehyun had begrudgingly agreed to join his friends at the bar for a night of baseball and getting shit faced. Under normal circumstances he would have declined their less than enticing offer, but... he’s desperate. He’d been holed in his tiny one-bedroom apartment for the better part of two months, only emerging from his cave of self-deprivation and pity to obtain food. He was desperate for interaction that wasn’t through the mouthpiece of his headset and didn’t consist of flanking strategies or opponent locations being shouted at volumes so high they were almost inaudible.

The seductive lure of alcohol had also played a part in his agreeance. He hasn’t taken a drink since the night his ex dumped him, choosing to instead utilize games and food as his vices. They worked fine enough, but religiously eating a tub of cheese balls and drinking 2 cans of Red Bull a day combined with only leaving the couch for bathroom breaks and quick trips for more cheese balls had definitely taken a visible toll on his health. He broke out in places he’d never thought getting pimples was possible, but there they were. And now here he is. In a social setting attempting to fight off his post-breakup depression and enjoy life again. A step in the right direction and a step toward the bar.

“Bartender,” he calls raising his hand in an attempt to catch the woman’s attention. Your attention.

It feels awkward, possibly because it’s been so long since he last stepped foot in a bar fully intending to have more than one drink.

You turn toward the sound of a voice and attempt to spot the unfamiliar face. You find him rather quickly, his hand in the air serving as the perfect guide. “There’s 3 ahead of you hun, I’ll be there shortly,” You smile.

Jaehyun nods and watches as you quickly take the orders of two people, create their drinks and accept their payment. You’re quick, and judging by the satisfied looks of the customers, you’re good too.

“What’re you having?” You ask, lifting your eyes from the current cocktail you’re creating to boar into Jaehyun’s.

He swallows thickly. It’s only been a couple of months since the last time he’s had a drink, but he’s suddenly unable to remember the names of the cocktails he loves with you staring at him so intently. He can’t tear his eyes away from your expectant ones. You’ve finished the drink you’d been working on, collected the payment for it, and started preparing the glass for his drink all while never looking away. Your eyes aren’t rushing him, just waiting.

“Y-you choose,” he finally stutters out, afraid that his sudden lapse in memory would mess up the flow you’ve come into.

You nod, “Light or dark?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jaehyun had never really had much of a preference for one over the other. Alcohol was a means to get drunk, which type it is, lacks importance in comparison to the outcome.

He watches as you pull a can of soda from underneath the bar and a bottle from the shelf before mixing them in what looks like equal parts into the glass you’d prepared.

“You starting a tab?” your question as you hand him the drink. He shakes his head and hands you twenty dollars cash. “The drink was only $10. Let me grab your change.”

“Keep the change.” He says quickly before lifting the cup to his lips and taking in a bit through the straw.

“It’s Coke and Hennessy… in case you wanna order another.” You wink and place what would’ve been his change into the bar’s communal tip jar.

“You going to make a move, or just keep being a big tipper for the rest of the night?” Jaehyun’s friend Johnny playfully quips.

Jaehyun had been back to the bar five times in total, three for another drink and twice in between for a glass of water. Each time you had asked if he was ready to start a tab and each time he declined, leaving the change behind as your tip. Even when you had refused to charge him for water, he slipped five dollars into the tip jar and laughed quietly at your perplexed expression.

Jaehyun shrugs at Johnny, unsure of how to answer the question. Your drinks were good, but not ten dollar tip on a ten dollar drink good. He honestly can’t figure out why he keeps going back for more. It’s not like you’ve been giving him some crazy intricate cocktail the entire night, just soda mixed with liquor. It’s so simple. But he finds comfort in it. Or maybe your smile? The way your eyes light up when he tells you to keep the change? He’ll have to get another drink to be sure.

He returns to the bar, empty cup in hand and a broad grin adorning his face. You’re there. Though this time, as the bar has calmed down, you’re not rushing to take the next patron’s order. You’re talking to a man. Another bartender, Jaehyun assumes, the identical aprons would tell as much. Jaehyun waits for the conversation to end, not willing to interrupt. He can’t hear what’s being said, but it’s the first time he hasn't seen you smile the entirety of the night and figures it’s concerning something serious. Business perhaps? The topic’s not important to him, yet he’s still a bit curious. He twiddles his thumbs aimlessly as he waits, looking over the shelves to see the different kinds of alcohol and the random pieces of artwork scattered across the walls. He notices the bar doesn’t necessarily have a clear theme. It’s just dark… with red lights and a few large TV’s covering different sporting events. In fact, it's a bit run down. Why had his friends decided to come here? More baffling, why had you decided to work here?

“Hey,” A voice calls from directly in front of him, pulling Jaehyun from his stationary tour. It’s the male bartender you’d been speaking with. “What can I get you?” His smile is friendly, but not nearly as charming as yours Jaehyun notes disappointedly.

“Ah,” Jaehyun grabs the back of his neck awkwardly. “The um-”

“He’s not ordering anything else,” A voice cuts in from beside him. Jaehyun looks toward the sound and smiles as you come into view.

The male bartender chuckles, “Thought you were leaving.”

“I am,” You answer honestly. “Just taking him with me.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen. You pull him by the arm toward one of the only empty tables. Neither of you bothers taking a seat opting to just rest your elbows on the high table instead.

“You’ve paid ninety dollars for four drinks and two glasses of water,” You tell him over the roar of cheering in the background.

Jaehyun nods, fully aware of how much money he’s wasted at the bar tonight.

You scoff, “I should’ve asked if you were a lightweight.”

Jaehyun smiles, “I’m not,” You look at him in disbelief. “Really,” He assures you.

You look at his face, trying your best to read him but coming up short. He’s handsome, even with his face flushed red from the alcohol and the three small pimples that had clearly made themselves comfortable on his chin. He’s got these dimples, and they make an appearance with even the slightest change in his expression. They’re an added bonus to his already nice smile, pairing well with his beaming ridiculously straight teeth.

“Are you sure?” You questioned again. Through the night you’d watched him interact with his friends as you would any other customer. As a bartender, you have to know when to cut someone off. You definitely questioned his sobriety level the moment he stuffed a tip into the communal jar for comp water.

“I’m fine,” He laughs, “A little buzzed at best. I honestly don’t think you put enough Hennessy in my coca-cola.”

It’s your turn to laugh, “I was worried about making sure there was enough coca-cola in your Hennessy.” You’d been more than generous with his drinks, most bartenders are for the big tippers.

The conversation dies a bit as you both silently shift your focus to the basketball game. Jaehyun undoubtedly prefers the sound of your voice over that of the announcers and turns back to you. It’s his turn to try and read you. And as expected he can’t. Why had you pulled him away from the bar? The other bartender more than likely would have informed him that shifts switched and he would’ve ordered his final drink. Did you notice his interest? Did you take an interest yourself? These questions and more swirled through Jaehyun’s head as he watched you watch the game. Your lips move but Jaehyun wasn’t listening.

“Sorry, what?” He leans in closer so that you don’t have to strain.

You move your lips to his ear, “Tell me your name.”

“Jaehyun,” he smiles. With all his excitement of finally getting to say more than four words to you, he’d almost forgotten you didn’t know each other's names. He asks you the same question in return and you answer with a smile.

“Wanna get out of here, Jaehyun?” Your smirk

That smirk could mean a million things. It easily pushes a hundred different scenarios into Jaehyun’s mind, and suddenly the flush on his face isn’t just because of the alcohol.

“And go where?” He asks shyly.

“The beach.”

Jaehyun’s car is nice. It’s decently clean inside and out, and it’s a newer model. 2018 at least. He doesn’t say anything when you request the keys. He’s aware that it's much safer for you to drive since you haven’t had anything to drink. Though he stands by the earlier attestation of his sobriety, he wouldn’t want to put anyone in danger should he be misgauging it.

The drive to the beach is 45 minutes long, but it feels like it passes in seconds. You and Jaehyun speak about everything from pets to the ice wall you both (jokingly) agree is totally being guarded by NASA storm troopers while a playlist of mellow pop songs plays in the background. It’s nice. Jaehyun hasn’t had a conversation so random yet pleasant in a really long time. You make him feel comfortable. Which is weird since he’s only known you for a few short hours. There’s something about your presence he finds comforting. He was able to feel it at the bar as well. Though you made him slightly nervous, you also eased those nerves.

You make it to the beach in one piece. Jaehyun has a wide grin on his face as he watches you park the car where the sand meets the land. “All good?” You question as you turn to him. Upon seeing his face you can’t help but mirror his smile. Jaehyun nods, assuring he’s fine and shifts around in the passenger seat. The two of you sit there for a while, the mellow pop hits lulling in the back finally being heard in the new silence.

“Why coke and Hennessy,” Jaehyun breaks the silence quickly, already missing the sound of your voice. He’d also been curious for a while. What about him made you choose that drink of all things?

“Honestly,” you begin, a small smile on your face. “It was the first thing to come to mind.” You admit. There’d been no real reason. He didn’t particularly strike you as someone who even likes dark alcohol. But you’d burnt out on making AMF’s pretty early, and cranberry juice was too far away for a Cranberry Vodka. The simple mix was the closest thing available and your line was beginning to pile up.

“I like the honesty,” He laughs. “And I liked the drink.”

“You kept coming back for the drink?” You smirk.

He shakes his head chucking softly, “If I was only going back for the drink I wouldn’t be here with you right now.”

“Is that right?”

“Absolutely.”

It goes quiet again for a short period of time. You speak up before Jaehyun can this time. “Should we take a walk on the beach?”

“If I can hold your hand…”

You laugh, “You can hold my hand.”

“Can I kiss you?” Jaehyun asks boldly.

You’re taken aback by the request. Sure he had hinted toward his attraction to you throughout the night, but nothing this blatant.

He chuckles at your expression and heats up in embarrassment. “Was that too forward?”

“No,” You admit quickly. It’s your turn to be embarrassed. You answered the question just a little too fast. “It wasn’t, you just… caught me a bit off guard.”

Jaehyun removes his seat belt and leans over the center console. You do the same and laugh as you come face to face with his cheeky grin.

“So can I kiss you?” Jaehyun asks again.

You reach a hand up the back of his neck and gently caress his cheek with your thumb. “No, but you can kiss me back.”

It’s so light that Jaehyun is confused about whether you’ve really kissed him or not. It takes a while for his brain to finally register the light pressure against his lips as yours. He returns the kiss, hands reaching up toward the back of your neck and pulling you closer. Just like that he’s leading the kiss. There’s a heavier pressure and slight neediness to it. Jaehyun hadn’t realized just how much he wanted to kiss you until now. Now that he is actually doing it, and you’re sighing against his lips, Jaehyun feels like a starved man finally getting food. He never wants this to end. He feels your lips part slightly and wastes no time experimentally dipping his tongue between them.

You give a small kitten lick of your own, interested in seeing just how this kiss will pan out. Your heart beats excitedly in your chest as you wait on Jaehyun’s next move. Another swipe of his tongue. You impatiently take the reigns, pulling him closer and pushing past his lips. Your tongues meet and Jaehyun moans. You can’t help the small smile that forms.

Jaehyun moves his free hand toward your waist, desperate for more. More of anything. He wants to feel you… hear you. Every small whimper or sigh you release hits his ears like the opening chords to his favorite song. He can’t help but feel excited. Jaehyun shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat as his ‘excitement’ pushes against the confines of his jeans. There’s no subtly to it, he couldn’t be subtle if he tried right now. All he can hope is that you’re not offended by his body’s reaction.

You notice the second time he shifts and quickly reach your hand to the noticeable outline, eager to hear what sound he’ll make this time. You’re not disappointed. Your ears are met with a rather loud groan. You pull away to watch his face as you massage him over his jeans. It doesn’t take long for his skin to flush an even prettier shade of pink and his breathing to labor.

“The windows are going to fog,” You tease as you change your position to get a better grip.

Jaehyun throws his head back completely uncaring. He rushes his own hand down to his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them as quickly as he can. He grunts out his pleasure when your hand comes in contact with his hardened member over his boxer briefs. It’s one less layer between you, but it’s still not close enough. It still feels like he needs more. He reaches over, returning his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and crushing his lips to yours. His hips thrust into your palm, chasing the pleasure it provides.

You move your hand past his boxers and grip his uncovered hot flesh. He pulls away from your mouth with a loud moan.

“Fuck.” he pants against your lips.

“Feel good?” You tease as you speed up your fist.

“So fucking good,”

Every melodious moan, groan and sigh he releases heads directly to your core. Your need grows, starting in the pit of your stomach and pooling down until it reaches your damp underwear. “Jaehyun,” you whine his name in hopes of catching his attention but he’s far too enthralled in his own pleasure to notice. You whine louder, slowing your hand to a near stop simultaneously. Jaehyun’s head whips toward you and he lets out a whine of his own, his hips bucking up to chase the friction he’s losing.

“Please don’t stop,” He begs near tears.

You almost feel bad, but the ache between your thighs his whine causes pushes any sympathy you feel away.

“Touch me,” You demand, lifting up so you’re on your knees, leaning over the center console.

Jaehyun moans. Is this a dream? He’s wanted to touch you all night, but even with your hand down his pants, he didn’t have the confidence to reciprocate. Reaching a hand around he begins to run his fingers over your jean covered center. It’s hot to the touch and Jaehyun can feel your sex twitching with need. He gradually increases the pressure as he continues watching in awe as your hips push back to meet his fingers, grinding against the air and his digits.

He pulls his hand back, sprawling his palm across your ass and massaging the flesh before quickly lifting it and bringing it down. He isn’t sure how you’ll react to the blow but has high hopes you’ll be in agreeance. His worried nerves are eased upon hearing you release a deep sigh. So he continues, striking your ass again... And then again.

“You’re so wet,” He voices his observance, returning his fingers to your covered core. You’ve dampened your jeans, a clear sign of your arousal making an appearance through the thick material. “Want to feel you.”

You lift yourself up as much as you can, the hand on his dick abandoning its post in favor of your new mission. Undressing your lower half. You clumsily remove your shoes, socks, and jeans, and toss them to the back seat uncaringly. Jaehyun reaches over after your jeans have been removed and returns his hand to your core, the soaked material of your underwear immediately coating his fingers.

“So wet,” He sighs, reaching up and reconnecting your lips.

You kiss him back with fervor. His middle and ring fingers gracefully switch between sweeping through your covered folds and rubbing at your sensitive clit. You moan, desperate for more but much too embarrassed to beg.

Jaehyun isn’t one for begging, though he’s sure the please would sound gorgeous leaving your lips, he feels your body language is loud enough. You haven’t stopped moaning, your hips haven’t stopped moving, and you’ve taken a strong fondness to nibbling his bottom lip. Feeling the boldest he’s felt tonight, he wordlessly shifts the fabric of your panties to the side and slides a single digit into your heat.

“Shit,” He curses feeling a harsher bite.

“I’m sorry,” You moan pulling away, panting slightly. “Caught me off guard.”

He says nothing, instead opting to watch your face as his middle finger glides in and out of your sopping sex.

“I can’t believe how wet you are,” He admits.

You almost go to hide your face in embarrassment, but the intrusion of a second finger halts your actions. The pleasant stretch has you moaning out in bliss and pushing back to chase the fingers as they retract.

Jaehyun can feel your sex fluttering around his fingers as they enter you. It’s clear to him you’re enjoying yourself, the arousal coating his fingers serving as all the proof he needs. But, he can’t help but feel greedy for more. His fingers speed up and twist to reach every angle inside of your sopping center as he searches for the spongy flesh of your g-spot. You let him know as soon as he’s found it, doubling over and panting out a continuous mix of ‘right there' and ‘don’t stop’. It’s a bit awkward but he tries his best to keep the angle, watching you intently as he does. Your face is contorted in pleasure, lips parted, eyebrows knit, eyes sealed; you’re a complete masterpiece to Jaehyun. He’s not sure how you can get anymore more beautiful.

“I’m gonna cum,” You admit, grabbing at his thigh with one hand to anchor yourself. With your other hand, you reach back to your front and rub harsh circles against your clit. Your high hits suddenly and Jaehyun works you through it, never letting up his pace or changing from the spot he’s found until he’s sure you’ve finished. The hand you had used to help bring yourself to completion, swings up to join your other on Jaehyun’s thigh. Your eyes open, the blissful hayes of your orgasm slowly subsiding.

“So fucking sexy,” Jaehyun whines, shifting in his seat, his long-neglected erection straining harshly against the fabric of his underwear.

“Please tell me you have a condom,” You sigh. He reaches forward and pulls the lever to open his glove box. Sat neatly inside is an unopened pack of condoms. Your next sigh is one of relief. You swipe the condoms and reclose the compartment quickly. “Push the seat all the way back.” You instruct.

Jaehyun listens quickly, pulling the switch to send the seat back and catching you when you nearly lose your balance. He watches as you almost comically climb over the console and take a seat on his thigh. You struggle with the condom for a while before Jaehyun impatient takes the rubber from your hand and opens it himself.

You watch as he removes his dick from the confines of his boxer briefs and slowly rolls the condom down his erect length. He pumps himself a few times once the condom is on, making sure it’s on the right way and that friction won’t cause any air pockets to form. Feeling confident enough with his application, you grip his wrist and remove his hand. A swing of your leg and you’re straddling him, your heated and soaking center just above this throbbing cock.

All he needs to do is line up your center with his member and slide into your sex, everything he desires at this moment is within grasp, but he can’t bring himself to make the move. Everything tonight has been your call, and for some reason, Jaehyun likes it that way. You chose his drink, you chose to come to the beach, you had him get you off first… Why end that now? He moves a hand to your wait in preparation but doesn’t make another move. His eyes are glued to where you two sexes meet, watching as your juices glisten over your folds and his dick jumps in anticipation.

You place a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself and use the other hand to reach for his cock. A small drop in your hips sends his length sliding against your folds. You watch with a small smile as Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. Another more precise drop has his tip entering your heat. He sighs a bit and tightens his grip on your waist. You continue, drop after drop, easing his thick length into you bit by bit.

Jaehyun’s toes curl as you lift yourself up, your walls squeezing him so tightly he feels like he could cum any minute. He wants so badly for this experience to last. There's an amazingly beautiful woman sat on top of his dick, moaning as she takes what she can, and hissing as she tries to take more.

“Fuck,” You curse sliding yourself down again. “You’re so fucking big.”

“Your pussy is so wet,” Jaehyun moans. “Take some more, I know you can.”

You lift yourself up and drop again in an attempt to take more, but the stretch almost seems too much.

“Want my help?”

You nod, slightly exhausted from your earlier orgasm and exerting so much energy trying to fuck in such a tight space.

Jaehyun keeps his hold on your hips firm and raises his own up. He listens to every whine you let out as he slides more and more of himself into your sex, grunting out his own pleasure when he finally bottoms out inside you. He becomes less gentle. You feel too good to be gentle. As much as his mind yells at him to savor the moment and take things slow, his body is begging him to fuck you senseless.

“You feel so good,” He whines, tensing up at the feel of his impending end. He can’t cum yet. He’s just getting started. Jaehyun grounds his feet into the floor below him and picks up the pace.

“Oh shit,” You moan feeling him touch areas inside you you’re pretty sure no other man has. He feels amazing, the original sting of him stretching you has started to subside and is being replaced by insurmountable amounts of pleasure. Somehow your body is still greedy, begging for more. Although you’ve cum once already, it’s begging you for another. “You like the way my pussy feels?” You pant into his ear.

“Fuck yeah, so fucking wet,” He all but growls. Confidence being spurred by your dirty words, he picks up his pace again. “Your pussy’s gonna make me cum.”

“I wanna come on your cock,” You moan into his ear.

“Fuck,”

Jaehyun’s hips stutter at your words, the rhythm he’s come into suddenly getting lost.

“You want me to?” You question.

“Of course I do.”

You wordlessly bring his hand in between the two of you. He gets the hint and begins sloppily rubbing circles against your clit. You moan into his ear, pitch increasing bit by bit as you feel another climax approaching.

Jaehyun’s entire body is tense as he fights off the need to cum. He wants to feel your walls flutter around his cock the same way they did his fingers earlier. He wants you to cum first.

“Shit, Jaehyun. Fuck me harder,” You instruct. Jaehyun obeys rutting up into your sex with a fervor you’d yet to see from him tonight. “Oh fuck, just like that. I’m cumming!”

You walls clench and release around his length. The tension in Jaehyun’s body releases as he lets himself succumb to his own climax. He stills deep inside of you, filling the condom to the brim with his seed. Jaehyun can’t remember the last time he’s cum so hard. His hips twitch to prolong the pleasure, more cum leaving his exhausted body.

He collapses in the seat, chest rising and falling rapidly as he attempts to catch his breath. You’re doing the same, but can’t help but smile when you see his blissfully fucked out expression. You chuckle.

Jaehyun looks up at you, his cheeks turning that cute shade of pink again.

“Don’t get all shy now. Not when your dick is still inside me,” You tease.

“I don’t want to take it out,” Jaehyun admits with a laugh.

You lean down and peck his lips before raising yourself from his lap. He mock frowns.

“Think I should be driving you home now,” You say as you reach for your underwear in the backseat.

He grabs your hand, effectively stopping your movement and pulling your full attention to him.

“If you stay the night…”

END

I really hope you guys enjoyed, it took... so long. But, I feel way better now that it’s done! my first fic for an NCT member!! Time for some drabbles.

#nct smut #nct scenarios #jaehyun #jaehyun smut #kpop smut #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #nct127 smut #nct 127 smut #jaehyun nct #nct jaehyun #nct127 scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #kpopsmut #kpop fanfic

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emospritelet · 5 years ago

Text

Turn Left

After her encounter with Detective Weaver and his apparent lack of interest in taking things any further, Lacey arrives back in Storybrooke disillusioned and spoiling for a fight. She and Mr Gold have been trading insults for some time, but Lacey finds to her surprise that beneath the sarcasm, her attraction to him is growing. She decides to act on it.

Part 3 of the Small World series [Part 1] [Part 2] [AO3 link]

Lacey French had never believed she would be glad to get back to Storybrooke, Maine. Especially not in October, when the air was already cold enough to snow, and the rain threatened to freeze around her. She stepped off the bus from Boston into a dull, dark afternoon, her bag in one hand and a scowl on her face. Still, at least she was no longer in Seattle. It was unlikely she would ever have to set foot in the city again, which meant she was unlikely ever to see him. Just as well.

She had not gone to the other side of the country expecting to meet someone in a bar. She had also not planned on going back to his place and having the best sex of her life. His lack of interest afterwards was something she could have anticipated, however. Story of her fucking life. Every guy she’d ever hooked up with had turned out to be a total loser, and she’d made a mistake in thinking Detective fucking Weaver might have been different.

The rain was falling harder, and she shivered, looking around as the bus pulled off with a squeak of hydraulics. Too late to grab a shift at Granny’s, even if she wanted to, and she sighed as she remembered she had the breakfast shift the next morning. For a moment the future seemed to open up before her, years of minimum wage jobs and one-nighters with assholes. It was a depressing thought, and one she shoved to the back of her mind as soon as it took form. At least it wasn’t far to her apartment, and she could take a long hot shower, open a bottle of wine, and pretend her life was something other than a steaming pile of crap.

In the end she finished the wine and poured herself a whisky, and as a result she was hungover and sullen the following morning, her limbs heavy and aching and her head feeling as though it had been slammed against the wall. Fortunately the diner was fairly quiet at seven a.m. Just Leroy and his buddies filling up on eggs and bacon before work, and Dr Hopper getting tea and a bagel before heading to his office. Lacey poured coffee and carried trays of food in a daze, Ruby flitting around her wiping tables and clearing away dishes. Lacey envied her bright smile and cheerful demeanour; clearly Ruby had done the sensible thing and gotten an early night.

The day was every bit as dark and miserable as it had been when she arrived back in Storybrooke, and it did nothing to lift Lacey’s mood. She stomped to and from the kitchen, tiny red skirt swishing around her thighs and her white shirt tight enough to make the buttons strain. Granny had cast disapproving looks at the outfits she and Ruby wore, but to her credit she hadn’t told them to change.

A brief sound of traffic and driving rain and the feel of a cold breeze hinted at the door being opened, and Lacey glanced over her shoulder as she set down Dr Hopper’s toasted bagel. She sighed to herself at the new arrival. Mr Gold was a regular, although he rarely had anything but coffee. He was as immaculately dressed as always, three-piece black suit over a red silk shirt and a heavy wool overcoat over the top. A furled umbrella dripped water on the floor, but the wind was gusting, and some of the rain had caught in his hair, tiny droplets catching the light. His hair was longer than was fashionable, brushing his collar and hanging around his face, streaks of silver in amongst the brown. Gold was a short, thin man, with angular features and sharp brown eyes that flitted suspiciously around the room before meeting hers. Lacey swallowed hard.

Great. I’m marked.

She wasn’t sure why his gaze always made her feel nervous. Perhaps it was his reputation. Gold was landlord for most of Storybrooke, including her, and was renowned for keeping strictly to the letter of every rental agreement. No ifs, no buts, no extensions. Lacey was fortunate that she had always been able to make rent, and had therefore never attracted his ire, but she knew plenty of people who weren’t as lucky. It didn’t stop him being a sarcastic asshole with her, either. Luckily she had always managed to hold her own with him, despite Ruby warning her not to bring his attention onto her any more than was necessary. It seemed like she just couldn’t help herself; she had to snarl and bite at the shitty world somehow, and Gold made an easy target, if perhaps not one a sensible person would aim at.

Gold glanced away from her, heading for an empty table by the window, leather-gloved hand tightening around the brass-handled cane he used. She had always wondered how he had injured his leg badly enough to have a limp that had never healed, but as far as she knew no one had ever had the balls to ask him. He shrugged off his coat and hung it carefully over the back of his chair before sitting down and looking pointedly in her direction. Glancing around in desperation, she saw with irritation that Ruby was taking another order, and so she dug in the pocket of her tiny apron for her pad and pen and stomped over.

“What can I get you?” she asked grumpily, and Gold sat back, one corner of his mouth drawing up in a twisted smile as he looked her over.

“Miss French,” he drawled. “I haven’t had the pleasure of your surly expression and monosyllabic responses in what feels like an eternity.”

“Miss me, Mr Gold?” she asked flatly. “The feeling isn’t mutual. What’ll it be? Cup of dark and bitter with a side order of asshole?”

Gold’s twisted smile grew.

“I see your brief absence wasn’t due to taking a course in customer service,” he said snidely.

“Yeah, well, I spoke to the college admin, and it turns out you took the last spot on Human Interaction 101,” she said. “I figured you needed it more than me.”

He swallowed the grin, eyes narrowing, and she let one hip swing out, raising a brow.

“You ordering, or are you just gonna sit there scowling at me?”

“Black coffee,” he said ungraciously. “I’ll take a cinnamon Danish if they’re fresh.”

“They’re always fresh.”

“Could have fooled me, dearie.”

“Yeah, well, give ‘em a break,” she said. “Two minutes in your company and I feel like I’ve aged ten years, what chance does a Danish have?” She scribbled on the pad. “I’ll bring ‘em right out.”

She sashayed off, grinning to herself as she felt his glare between her shoulder blades.

“You got a death wish or something?” hissed Ruby, following her into the kitchen. “Gold’s put people on the street for less!”

Lacey snorted, using a set of tongs to lift one of the fresh pastries onto a plate. She set it on a tray with a clean coffee cup.

“What’s he gonna do, evict me for sarcasm?” she asked. “Bastard’s got nothing on me. My rent’s paid up and he knows it. Besides, he started it.”

“Just be careful,” warned Ruby. “I keep trying to tell you, but you don't listen! He’s got a long memory and he’ll just bide his time until you need something from him.”

“Yeah, like that’ll ever happen.”

“Oh, so we’re just up and tempting fate now, are we?”

“Rubes, don’t worry so much!” said Lacey impatiently. “I promise I won’t piss him off anymore, okay?”

She stomped out again, tray in hand, hips swinging as she grabbed the pot of coffee and carried it over to Gold’s table. He was watching her, one hand folded over the handle of his cane, fingers drumming slowly against it.

“One black coffee and a Danish, as requested,” she announced, and put the plate in front of him with a loud clunk before pouring the coffee.

“That’s an apple Danish,” he said coldly.

“So?”

“I requested cinnamon.”

“Yeah?” She squinted at the pastry. “That has cinnamon on it, I can smell it.”

“Are you going to bring me what I ordered, or not?”

Lacey sighed, snatching up the plate and stomping off again. Ruby gave her a look that said ‘I told you so’ as she passed, but she ignored it, hurrying to swap the apple pastry for a cinnamon swirl.

When she returned to his table, Gold’s finger-tapping had increased in pace, his irritation clearly growing. Lacey set down the plate with a bad grace.

“Cinnamon Danish,” she said curtly. “Enjoy.”

“Assuming the coffee isn’t cold by now, I’ll endeavour to oblige.”

She decided to ignore that.

“Yeah, well, if you want a refill, just holler.”

“If I ask for one now, perhaps it’ll be ready in ten minutes,” he said in a snide tone, and she rolled her eyes and stomped off.

“You’re playing with fire, girl,” whispered Ruby.

“I’m not playing with anything,” snapped Lacey. “I’m just not in the mood for that bastard today.”

“So I see, and you’ve been in a terrible mood ever since you got back from Seattle,” said Ruby. “What gives?”

“Nothing I wanna talk about right now.” Lacey sighed, glancing around the diner to check the status of its customers. “Look, you want to go out tonight? Few drinks at the Rabbit Hole?”

“Sure thing, but I can’t stay too late,” said Ruby. “I promised Granny I’d do the early shift tomorrow.”

“You can stay long enough to get me drunk, right?”

“Depends how quickly you drink,” said Ruby, with a grin. “When d’you want to meet?”

“Eight o’clock?”

“It’s a date.”

The Rabbit Hole was half-empty, not an unusual sight on a Monday evening, and Lacey had shoved a bunch of quarters in the jukebox to try and get a little atmosphere going. She wasn’t sure it was working. There was a small group of men clustered by the pool table, Ashley Boyd staring awestruck at that Sean guy, and she and Ruby sitting at the bar on their third drink. Lacey had been trying to explain how her trip to Seattle had gone, and was getting more agitated by the minute. She took a swallow of her rum and coke, gesturing with a finger.

“So anyway, the moment I mentioned that I was Belle’s cousin, his whole attitude changed,” she said, finishing up her story about the encounter with Weaver. “All of a sudden he couldn’t get me out of there fast enough. Fucking jerk.”

“Agreed,” said Ruby. “Did he say anything at the wedding?”

“No. Well, yes, but he was weird,” said Lacey, wrinkling her nose. “Kind of - I don’t know - kind of polite and distant, like he hadn’t had his face buried between my legs two nights before, you know?”

“Not sure I have an experience to match that one,” said Ruby, grinning. “The last person to bury their face between my legs kind of hung around.”

Lacey grunted in amusement.

“Where is Dorothy, anyway?”

“Still on that field trip,” said Ruby. “She’s back in town next week, so I’m afraid my nights off are gonna be pretty full.”

“Hey, no problem here, at least one of us should be getting some.” Lacey slumped on the bar, arms folded in front of her, feeling morose.

“So how did you guys leave things?” asked Ruby, and she sighed, pushing up again and grabbing her glass.

“We didn’t,” she said. “I mean it’s pretty obvious he wanted nothing to do with me once he found out who I really was.”

“Who you really were?” Ruby looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s Belle’s friend, right?”

“So?” said Ruby. “Why should that stop him liking you?”

“Because it’s Belle!” said Lacey plaintively, as if that explained everything. “She’s always been fucking perfect! Perfect grades, perfect attendance record, perfect poise and dress and fucking manners, and then she goes away to college and gets a perfect score and her perfect job and a fucking perfect physics professor husband! And in a year or so’s time she’ll start popping out perfect babies and have her perfect fucking picket-fence house in the suburbs!”

“Wow,” remarked Ruby. “What a bitch.”

“No, I don’t mean it like that…” Lacey let her head drop onto her folded arms with a groan before pushing up straight again. “I know I sound like a crazy jealous person, and I - well, I am, but It’s not her fault, she’s a good person. It’s just - she’s everything I never was, and my parents made damn sure I knew about it. Every time I cut class or went out drinking they’d be all like ‘oh, Belle would never do that’ and ‘Belle knows what she wants out of life’ and ‘why can’t you be more like Belle?’ It sucked!”

“I’m guessing it didn’t make you any more inclined to hit the books, either,” said Ruby knowingly, and Lacey grumbled, reaching for her drink.

“Just made me drop out even harder than I was going to.”

“So why is it a problem that the guy you banged knows this paragon of virtue, then?”

“Because!” said Lacey insistently. “Isn’t it obvious? He knows Perfect Princess Belle, and he’s embarrassed that he slept with her hot slutty mess of a cousin! That’s why he couldn’t get me out of the room fast enough!”

“I think you’re over-analysing this way too much,” said Ruby. “Lots of us like your brand of hot slutty mess.”

“Well, everything was going just fine until he found out we were related,” said Lacey sourly. “What’s your explanation?”

“I don’t know.” Ruby shrugged, and took a sip of her margarita. “Maybe he knows her a little better than you think, and that’s what he’s embarrassed about.”

“Huh?”

Ruby sighed, setting down her drink.

“Maybe the guy has a thing for petite brunettes with Australian accents,” she said patiently. “Maybe he screwed her, and he doesn’t want you two comparing notes.”

Lacey stared at her.

“What?”

“Think about it!” persisted Ruby. “The two of you hook up, have some good sex—”

“Great sex.”

“—and it’s all going fine until he finds out you’re the cousin of his best friend’s bride to be?” Ruby went on. “Why would that be a problem? Unless he already banged her and he doesn’t want you telling her he banged you and the whole thing coming out on the day of the wedding.”

Lacey blinked rapidly, thinking it over. It made a weird kind of sense, but she shook her head.

“No,” she said. “No way. Belle’s not like that. She wouldn’t cheat on the guy she was gonna marry.”

“How do you know?”

“Did you miss the part where I said she was perfect?”

“Well, it’s always the quiet ones,” said Ruby, reaching for her drink again. “Even oh-so-perfect Belle must have a few skeletons in her closet.”

Lacey was silent for a moment.

“He’s not even her type,” she said.

“Didn’t you say he wasn’t yours either, and it was the screw of the century?”

More silence. An unpleasant sinking feeling weighed heavy in Lacey’s belly, and she took a slurp of her drink in an attempt to numb it.

“If that’s true, it’s even worse,” she said gloomily.

“How do you figure that out?”

“It means she’s better in bed than I was. Fucking typical.”

“Oh, for crying out loud…” Ruby sighed and slumped forward.

“Sorry,” said Lacey. “Kind of on a downer tonight.”

“Yeah, I can see.” Ruby pushed upright, draining her glass. “Look, I gotta go, I’m on the early shift tomorrow. You want to come and have a sleepover?”

Lacey hesitated, but shook her head.

“We’d only stay up talking for hours, and you’d be tired as hell tomorrow,” she said. “Besides, I’m not very good company. Think I might play a few rounds of pool. At least that way I get to have the upper hand with a guy.”

“You sure? I don’t want you walking home on your own.”

“Yeah.” Lacey sat back, reaching over to hug her. “I’ll get Leroy to walk me.”

“Okay, cool.”

Ruby gave her a final hug and a concerned look, and trotted out of the bar, dark hair swinging behind her. Lacey turned her glass between her fingers moodily, and raised her hand to signal for another. It felt like a night for getting shit-faced.

She had intended to play pool, but found she wasn’t really in the mood, and so instead she sat staring into her fourth rum and coke, a pleasant buzz going through her. If she had any sense, she’d go home, pour herself a glass of something and watch some crap on TV until she could fall into bed. Instead she was leaning on the somewhat sticky bar, listening to someone else’s idea of decent music and wondering why her life was so fucked up.

“God, this place is dead tonight, huh?”

She rolled her eyes as Keith Nott sidled up beside her, leaning on the bar and standing a little too close. He was sending her what he no doubt thought was a winning smile, white teeth gleaming above a neatly-trimmed goatee. She wondered how she had ever found him attractive, and put it down to considerably more booze than she’d downed that evening.

“Drinking alone, Lace?” he said.

“Trying to,” she said dismissively. “Not really in the mood for company.”

“Oh, me neither,” he said. “Wanna get out of here? I got Netflix.”

“Good for you.” She took a slurp of her drink. “Don’t let me stop you binge-watching something.”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he wheedled, and she turned her head to face him, giving him what she hoped was a scorching look.

“Go creep on someone else, okay?” she snapped, and he scowled.

“Well, if you want to be an uptight bitch—” he began, but then he seemed to see something unpleasant. His expression changed from annoyance to wariness, and he slipped away without a word. Lacey shrugged to herself. Good riddance.

There was movement in the corner of her eye, and she sat up, glancing around. Mr Gold had entered the bar, and Lacey was amused to see some of the customers melt away into the shadows. He spotted them, she was sure of that. No doubt adding their names to his list of those he needed to chase up for something. Guess Keith doesn’t have the rent. Gold stepped up to the bar, cane tapping against the floor, dark eyes sweeping around, restless and searching.

“I see you finally decided to come out and hang with the cool people,” she said.

She doubted he was there for pleasure; Gold was known to collect rent at unusual times, but the thought of him coming to The Rabbit Hole for an evening of drinking and fun was making her want to giggle. He glanced at her, mouth thinning a little as his eyes flicked from hers to her drink.

“Miss French,” he said, in an even tone. “I see you’re maximising your potential as always.”

Bastard.

“Well, if you mean the potential to get wasted, then yeah,” she said, pretending she hadn’t understood the insult. “Wanna help me get there?”

“Apologies,” he said coldly. “Some of us have work to do.”

“Didn’t you spend all day working?” she said. “Take a break, live a little.”

“I fail to see what business it is of yours how I spend my time.”

“Fine, excuse me for taking an interest.”

He ignored that, his eyes fixed on the barman who had just appeared from the cellar carrying trays of bottled drinks.

“Rent!” said Gold curtly, and the barman hesitated, glancing from right to left as though searching for a way out.

“Right,” he said lamely. “Uh - I’ll have to go make sure it’s all there.”

“It had better be,” said Gold, and the barman put down the drinks, nervously wiping his hands on his shirt.

“Can I - can I get you anything while you wait?” he asked. “On the house.”

“Obviously,” said Gold, in a dry tone. “Whisky. Neat. Single malt, not that swill you tried to give me last time.”

The barman gulped, and snatched at a glass, hunting for the decent whisky and pouring a large measure. Lacey watched as Gold took a sip, and the barman hurried off, presumably to fetch the rent money. Gold wasn’t looking at her, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere in front of him, and she took the time to look him over, to note the way his hair gleamed in the light, the sharp lines of his nose and jaw and the swell of his lower lip. She found herself wondering what he looked like beneath the three-piece suit. Whether anyone in town knew.

It wasn’t the first time she had thought about it, by any means, but her interest had certainly increased over the past few months. Perhaps it was the fact that the ongoing battle of wills between them appeared to have entered a new and more sarcastic phase. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t afraid to stand toe-to-toe with him and trade insults, and that he seemed to rather enjoy that fact. She wondered what he thought of her; did he see her as a worthy adversary, or merely an annoyance, something to toy with when bored and then flick away when his interest had waned.

He glanced at her and away again, and took another drink, a droplet of whisky shining on his lower lip before he licked it off with the tip of his tongue. Lacey licked her own lips in response, enjoying the sudden lurch in her belly. She had once considered seducing him just to see the look on his face, and had dismissed the idea almost immediately, but now the thought returned, nagging and insistent, and refused to leave. To her surprise, she realised he reminded her of Weaver. The two dressed very differently, and Gold was thinner in the face and body, but each had the same intensity, the same air of danger and capacity for violence against those who deserved it. It made excitement ripple through her as she imagined how it would feel to let him unleash that intensity on her in a far more stimulating way. The accent didn’t hurt, either.

“Is there something I can do for you, Miss French?”

He always talked that way, she reflected. Polite, but with an air of menace, as though he could slit someone’s throat without blinking but would apologise profusely for the mess it made. He sometimes had another man accompany him on his rounds. Mr Dove was a giant of a man, and few dared to argue about their rent payment with him staring silently at them from behind Gold. Lacey got the sneaking feeling that Gold was more than capable of enforcing his rights himself, if it came to it, but he probably didn’t like getting blood on his suits.

“Just thinking that you reminded me of someone, that’s all,” she said.

“Really?”

His voice was uninterested as he set down the glass again.

“Yeah. Someone I met in Seattle. A cop.”

“Well, I won’t ask how you two crossed paths,” he said dryly.

“I picked him up in a bar much like this one, went back to his place and banged him like a screen door in a hurricane.”

Gold’s eyes flicked towards her briefly.

“Rest assured, I’m just here for the rent.”

His tone was very dry, and she tried to hold in a giggle. Lacey let her eyes run down his body, following the lines of his suit. Gold’s fingers drummed impatiently on the bar, and she noticed how long they were. Long and slender and - careful. A man with attention to detail, she imagined, taking a drink to wet her suddenly dry throat. Okay, so the last time I ended up in bed with a guy twice my age it didn’t end so well, but it was fucking hot while it lasted. Wonder what tricks this guy knows...

“So, Mr Gold,” she drawled. “How long’s it been?”

“Since what?” asked Gold dismissively, taking a sip of his drink.

“Since you had a good, hard fuck.”

Gold choked on his whisky, spraying it over the bar and making her chortle as he turned to face her with narrowed eyes.

“Are you drunk?” he snapped, and Lacey pulled a face.

“Little bit.”

“In that case I’ll pretend I didn’t hear the question,” he said curtly, whisking the handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbing at his chin.

“Wow,” remarked Lacey. “That long, huh?”

“You are on thin ice, Miss French,” he growled.

“What are you gonna do, spank me with your cane?” she asked, grinning. “I’m not saying no…”

Gold’s jaw clenched, his eyes glinting.

“If you’re looking for me to raise your rent, you’re going the right way about it.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” she said, and he leaned on the bar, glaring at her.

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” he said softly.

Lacey met him stare for stare, and picked up her glass to take a slow sip.

“Nah,” she said. “You don’t break deals, right? I’ve kept to every one of the terms of that damn contract, so there’s no way you can raise the rent. Not without breaking your own rules.”

One eyebrow flicked, the corner of his mouth twitching a little.

“You’re sure you read all the sub-clauses, are you?” he said.

“Pretty sure,” she said. “Maybe you should add in some kind of penalty for bad flirting.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” he said flatly. “Can’t say I noticed.”

“Yeah, I get the feeling you don’t always pick up on those social cues we earth humans rely on.”

“Social interaction is something I neither require nor pursue,” he said.

“We all need to make a connection, Mr Gold.”

“Speak for yourself, Miss French.”

“Hey, I’m just reaching out here,” she protested. “Can’t you at least meet me halfway?”

“I’m busy,” he said curtly.

“Well, that’s probably why you always look mad,” she said, poking his forearm. “You should smile more, you’d be prettier.”

His eyes gleamed, and she thought he was amused, despite himself.

“I think my days of being pretty are very much over,” he said.

“Couple more drinks and I won’t care.”

His mouth definitely quirked at that.

“Maybe you should.”

She sat back at that, unnerved by what seemed like an uncanny ability to see right through to the heart of her, and her own insecurities.

“I’ll do what I want with my own body,” she said, irritated by her own defensiveness. Gold shrugged a little.

“Assuming it is what you want, of course.”

Lacey glowered at him, but he had turned away again to sip at his whisky. The barman returned, a brown paper envelope in one hand and a nervous expression on his face. Gold set down his glass and took the envelope, pulling out a sheaf of bills and counting them out on the bar. He eyed the barman, licked his thumb, and counted the money a second time.

“You’re short by fifty,” he said coldly, and the barman started.

“Oh. Right. Uh - let me take it out of the register.”

“Get me another drink while you’re over there,” called Lacey. “Mr Gold’s paying.”

Gold shot her a narrow-eyed glare, but nodded when the barman looked at him.

“One drink,” he confirmed. “I’m sure Miss French has no desire to be in my debt for anything more.”

“Hey, you get the pleasure of my company,” protested Lacey. “Can’t say fairer than that.”

Gold didn’t respond, but went on counting the money. He added the crumpled bills handed to him by the barman and peeled one off the top for Lacey’s drink. He then slipped everything back in the envelope and reached into the inside pocket of his coat for a receipt book.

“Paid in full,” he said curtly, as he scribbled the date and amount paid. “Wonders will never cease. I’ll see you next month.”

The barman gave him a sickly grin and took the receipt between stubby fingers. Gold slipped the receipt book and pen back into his pocket and drank the last of his whisky.

“Exhilarating though it’s been, Miss French, I still have work to do, so I’ll say goodnight,” he said. “Enjoy your drink.”

“I’d enjoy it more with some company.”

“In which case, there are any number of lumbering oafs in this bar no doubt eager to oblige,” he said. “Good evening to you.”

He inclined his head to her, almost a bow, which amused her greatly.

“You’re really not like anyone else in Storybrooke, are you?” she said. “D’you ever get tired of feeling out of place?”

He showed his teeth, a gleam of gold showing on the lower jaw.

“On the contrary,” he said. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

He turned on his heel, limping off with that sinuous stride, and Lacey watched him go, sucking rum and coke through a straw and savouring the low-down burn of her new and unexpected desire. She finished the last of the drink, and the barman poured another, setting it in front of her. A pleasant buzz was going through her, a looseness in her limbs and a feeling of contentment. It vanished as Keith leaned on the bar next to her with an oily grin.

“So,” he said. “Where were we?”

“Don’t you have rent to pay?” asked Lacey, in a bored voice, reaching for her drink.

“Not if I can stay out of Gold’s way.”

“Why don’t I call him back here, then?” she asked. “It’d be worth running down the street in these heels if it means you disappear again.”

“God, you really know how to tease a guy, huh?”

“Would I be less of a tease if I told you to fuck off and leave me alone?”

Keith frowned at her, then glanced at the door, through which Gold had recently vanished. He turned back to Lacey with a slow smirk twisting his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re making a pass at Gold,” he jeered.

“Does it look like it?” said Lacey, feeling herself blush, and cursing in her head.

“You’re wasting your time,” drawled Keith. “Something tells me you’re not his type.”

“Hey, what a coincidence!” she exclaimed. “You’re not mine.”

“Not what you said six months ago.”

“Yeah, that’s how I know.” Lacey took a slurp of her drink. “Would you piss off? I’m trying to get drunk in peace.”

“There a problem here?”

To Lacey’s relief, Leroy had stepped up from the pool table, thick arms folded across his chest as he scowled at Keith above a bristling black beard.

“Get lost, dwarf,” snapped Keith.

“Oh, making a comment about my height, huh?” sneered Leroy. “Real original. How about you leave the lady alone?”

“Lady?” Keith curled his lip. “She’s the easiest piece of ass in town. Surprised you don’t already know that.”

Outraged, Lacey slammed down her glass and slipped from her stool, but Leroy had already thrown a punch, hitting Keith in the stomach. He doubled over with an oof as the breath was driven from him, clutching at his belly.

“Apologise, you piece of shit!” growled Leroy.

“No fucking way!”

Keith was grimacing, but he straightened up more quickly than Lacey had thought possible, right fist flying out and striking Leroy firmly on the nose. There was a dull crack and a bellow of pain before he went down, and Lacey rounded on Keith in fury.

“You asshole!” she shouted. “Get the fuck out of here before I have you arrested!”

“He started it!” whined Keith, still holding his midriff.

Lacey noticed his eyes flick from left to right as Leroy’s friends, Tom and Walter, came over, and then he pushed past her and stomped off, muttering something under his breath about her being a slut. She dropped into a squat beside Leroy, who was holding his nose, blood running between his fingers.

“God, are you okay?” she asked anxiously. “That piece of shit! You want me to call the Sheriff?”

“Forget it,” he grumbled. “Worth it to land one on the creep. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, but you’re bleeding!”

“Come on.” Walter stepped up, reaching down to grab Leroy’s arm and haul him to his feet. “Let’s go get that nose straightened out, or you’ll be even uglier.”

“Fuck you,” muttered Leroy, but without any heat, and Walter chuckled.

“You couldn’t afford it, dumbass. Come on, I think Whale’s on duty tonight. Should be able to patch you up.”

“You want me to come?” asked Lacey, but Leroy shook his head.

“They make you wait around for hours,” he said thickly, and jerked his head at Walter and Tom. “These two losers have nothing better to do with their night.”

She kissed his whiskery cheek.

“Text me when you’re patched up,” she said. “And your breakfast’s on me tomorrow, okay?”

He grinned at that, and let his two friends lead him away, a little unsteady on his feet. Lacey chewed her lip as she gazed after him, anger at Keith warring with worry for Leroy. She glanced at what remained of her drink, and sighed. A crappy end to a crappy night. Throwing back the last of it, she straightened her dress and grabbed her jacket. Time to go.

The music coming from the jukebox had changed, the twang of hard rock guitars making way for something slower and darker. It was raining, a fine drizzle, and Lacey hitched at the lapels of her jacket as she left the club, shivering a little at the sensation of cold air against her bare legs. There was a hint of ice in it, the threat of snow, and she kept an eye on the ground in front of her as she slipped into the alley that led back to the main street.

Her footsteps echoed, keeping time with the steady drip of water from one of the gutters, the distant streetlights sending out enough of a pale glow to see her path around the dumpster and a pile of discarded cardboard boxes, grown soggy and soft in the rain. A dark mass loomed out of the shadows, and Lacey stumbled a little as Keith was revealed, scowling at her.

“Tell your buddy if he tries anything again it’ll be worse for him,” he said, and Lacey sighed.

“Look, I don’t have the energy to referee your next pissing contest,” she said. “He punched you, you punched him. Would you just get lost? It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

She stepped to the side to go around him, but Keith moved with her, blocking her way. His mouth had turned up in a smirk, the scent of beer heavy on his breath, and Lacey felt the first prickle of unease.

“You know he was defending your honour, right?” he said. “Such as it is. Kind of cute, if you think about it. If kind of pointless. We all know what kind of girl you really are.”

“You don’t know shit about me,” she said, in a withering tone. “What, you get me drunk enough to think blowing you was a good idea, and suddenly you can see into my soul? Go fuck yourself.”

“Don’t be like that, Lace,” he whined. “Come back to my place, what do you say? We kind of cut things short last time.”

“Yeah, because I had to go throw up,” she said. “Not sure if it was the bourbon or your company. Let me past.”

“In a minute. I just want to talk, what’s your hurry?”

He moved closer, and she took a step back, heart thumping.

“Keith, I mean it!” she said, hating the way her voice wobbled. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Oh, they all say that,” he said lazily. “How about I do?”

He reached out to grab her arm, and Lacey squeaked in alarm, trying to pull away. His low chuckle turned into a strangled sound as a gleam of gold appeared at his throat and he was jerked back from her, stumbling in the alley and falling to his knees.

“Excuse the interruption.” Gold’s calm, menacing voice made Lacey want to sag in relief. “I’ve been looking for you, Mr Nott.”

Keith was on his hands and knees, coughing hard, and Gold grounded his cane between his legs, the gold handle glinting.

“Your rent is due,” he said. “Past due, in fact. I’m here to discuss payment.”

“I don’t have it!” wheezed Keith.

“Then I suggest you remedy that,” said Gold quietly. “Or I’ll be taking payment in my own way. I doubt you’d appreciate the additional charges.”

“You can’t touch me, you fucking psycho!”

“Oh, I beg to differ.”

“I got - I got a witness!” blustered Keith, and Gold glanced at Lacey.

“I just witnessed you attempting to assault Miss French,” he said. “You really think she’s your guardian angel?”

“I didn’t see a damn thing.” said Lacey flatly, and Gold grinned at her, his gold tooth gleaming in the dim light.

“Seems your witness is unreliable,” he said. “Such a pity.”

Keith pushed up on his knees and swung a punch at Gold, who stepped back smoothly on his good leg to avoid it. Quicker than Lacey could believe, he lashed out with his cane, catching Keith with a blow across the ribs and causing him to let out a hoarse cry as he slumped to the ground again.

“Fuck you!” gasped Keith.

Gold tutted, shaking his head.

“Well, it’s really no’ your night, is it sunshine?” he said. “Rent. Now.”

“I don’t have it!”

“God, this conversation is going in fucking circles,” drawled Gold. “What did I just fucking say?”

He lashed out again, and Keith cried out, raising a hand.

“Okay, okay!” he groaned. “I don’t have it here, but I can - I can get it!”

“When?”

“Uh - Friday!”

Gold leaned on his cane, bending over so his mouth was close to Keith’s ear.

“You’ll get it to me by ten a.m. tomorrow, or I’m gonna come looking for you, and I promise you, it will not be pleasant,” he growled. “Do you understand me?”

“Okay, okay!”

“Good.” He straightened up, fingers flexing on the handle of his cane, and jerked his head. “Ten a.m., Mr Nott. Not a minute later. Now fuck off.”

Keith got to his feet, shot a venomous look at Lacey, and staggered off down the alley, clutching his side as he went. Gold glanced at her. His chest was heaving, breath billowing out into the cold air in thick white plumes, his body quivering with rage, and Lacey licked her lips, that low-down burn tugging at her belly again.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She took a step towards him. “Uh - thanks for that. He’s like twice my size; I wasn’t sure what I was gonna do.”

“No matter.”

“Guess I understand why everyone in town’s afraid of you,” she added.

He turned slowly to face her, the distant streetlight picking out golden highlights along his nose and cheekbones and casting him in shadow.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked, his voice a low growl, and the tug in her belly became an ache.

“No.”

His fingers opened and closed, black leather gloves squeaking a little.

“And why is that?”

His voice was soft, and she licked her lips, taking a step towards him.

“Because you keep your word,” she said. “And because I pretty much offered it on a plate back in the bar, and you turned me down. Doesn’t often happen.”

“Sorry if I offended you.”

“I’m not offended.” She took another step closer. “I’m - intrigued.”

There was silence, but for the rhythmic dripping of water. The rain was still falling, fine drizzle catching in Gold’s hair and wetting her cheeks

“Intrigued?” he said softly.

“Kind of turned on, if you want the truth,” she added, and his mouth twitched.

“Is that right?”

Lacey took the final step, until she was almost touching him, his lips only an inch or two from hers. The air was heavy and close, as though a storm was coming, and she could feel his breath against her mouth, his dark eyes gleaming as they held her own.

“You never answered my question,” she said softly, and he swallowed hard.

“Which question was that?”

His voice was a little unsteady, and it gave her courage, made her think that perhaps he wasn’t completely indifferent to her.

“How long’s it been?” she whispered, and he glanced away, his jaw tightening before he looked back.

“Too fucking long,” he growled.

He reached up to cup her cheek, and she leaned in to kiss him, fingers sliding into his hair as his mouth met hers, hard and hungry. Rain had wet their lips, making their mouths slide over one another, and she slid her hands down his sides to slip around his waist, pulling him against her. Gold parted her lips with his tongue, making her moan as she tasted him, as she felt a part of him push inside her. It made her arousal grow, the pull of desire making her ache between the thighs.

He pushed at her, and Lacey hummed in approval as her back hit the alley wall, his body pressing against hers. There was a rattling noise as his cane hit the ground, and then his hands were on her, sliding down to cup her breasts and squeeze. Lacey moaned, pushing into his palms, and he pulled his mouth from hers, kissing down her neck, his tongue swirling over skin made wet with the rain. She opened her legs a little, a surge of desire going through her at the feel of him there, hard against her. Gold stroked a hand down over her hip to her bare thigh, pushing beneath her dress and sliding up to cup her mound. His lips found her ear, and she shivered.

“What do you want, Lacey?” he growled. “You want to get fucked, is that it? You want to get fingered until you come?”

She moaned, dragging her hands through his hair as she nodded agreement, and he wrenched at the edge of her lace thong, tugging it aside and letting his fingers slide over her flesh. A low groan rumbled out of him, and she let out a cry as he grazed her clit.

“Fuck, you’re wet!” he breathed. “I want to feel you all around me. Slide deep inside you and feel you come!”

Lacey rose up on her toes with a moan of pleasure as a finger entered her, pushing deep, and Gold groaned, sweeping his tongue over her pulse point, making her let out a tiny cry of pleasure. His thumb rubbed over her clit, spreading her fluids with slow, circular movements, and she clung to him, her breathing ragged, eyes closed as jolts of sensation went through her. Gold nipped at her jaw, mouth finding hers, the kiss hard and messy as he pushed a second finger into her. His free hand plunged into her hair, twisting in her curls as his tongue stroked against hers.

Lacey pulled her mouth free with a gasp, head thudding against the wall, and his fingers moved in short, sharp thrusts, his thumb flicking over her. She could feel herself working up to climax, and she bent her head to his neck, sucking on his skin and making him growl. His lips found her ear again.

“I always wondered what you’d feel like,” he whispered. “What you’d taste like. I’ve thought about spreading you out on my dining table and taking my sweet time with you, Lacey.”

The sound of his voice was almost too much, its low burr vibrating through her, and she raised her head to look at him, her body tingling, sensations rising up and brimming over. Gold was staring at her, eyes black in the dim light, lips pulled back over his teeth in a snarl as his rigid fingers fucked her hard. Lacey let her head roll back with a loud wail as she came, heat flooding her cheeks, pleasure washing over her, and he groaned with her release, fingers thrusting as she jerked against him. She sagged against the wall, the tension leaving her body with a wave of bliss, and his kisses became gentle, his tongue swirling over her pulse.

She tried to catch her breath, her heart thumping hard, and Gold slowly drew his fingers out of her, slipping them into his mouth and letting out a deep rumbling groan of pleasure at the taste of her. Lacey watched him through heavy eyelids, still panting, and he drew them out, lips curving upwards in a slow smile.

“Well well,” he said quietly. “It appears my evening took an unexpected turn, Miss French.”

“Yeah.” She licked her lips, heaving a shuddering breath. “And if you take a left out of this alley, you’ll end up at my apartment. How about it?”

He stroked a stray wisp of hair back from her face, cupping her cheek with fingers still warm and sticky, and kissed her again. His lips pulled at hers as he drew back, and he bent his head to whisper in her ear.

“Now that I know how you taste,” he breathed. “I want all of you. I want to taste you when you come.”

“Fuck!” gasped Lacey, and felt him smile against her neck.

“I want to lick you until you scream,” he whispered. “Suck the cum from you and drink you down.”

“Jesus—” She pushed him back from her, bending to pick up his cane and handing it over. “Hurry the fuck up and take me home before I shove you down and ride you in this alley, okay?”

“It’d be hell on the suit,” he said lazily, as he got the cane underneath him. “My dry-cleaning bill is quite high enough as it is.”

“Less talk, Gold, more walk.”

He chuckled at that, letting her pull him towards the mouth of the alley and turn left. Lacey walked quickly, his hand clasped in hers, her heart still thudding in her chest. If the man’s as good with his tongue as he is with his hands, I’m in trouble. Can’t fucking wait.

It didn’t take them long to reach the apartment, and Lacey let them in, tossing her keys onto the little table in the hallway and shrugging off her coat. He took off his own, hanging it carefully on the rack as she tossed hers across the back of the couch. The lounge was what she called comfortable: cushions piled in one corner of the couch for binge-watching TV and the coffee table strewn with the usual clutter of books, dirty plates and wine glasses.

“Well, I love what you’ve done with the place,” he remarked, looking around.

“Shut up. You get the rent paid on time, you don’t get to judge how I live.”

He chuckled softly, following her through to the bedroom. It was relatively tidy for her—she had even made the bed that morning—and she flicked on the bedside lamp before turning to face him. Gold was watching her, hands folded over his cane, still in his leather gloves and his three-piece suit. Lacey put her hands on her hips, suddenly nervous, and trying to hide it. She raised her chin.

“Your move,” she said.

A grin tugged at one corner of his mouth, and he lifted a hand, one finger raised.

“Take off the dress.”

She eyed him for a moment, but grasped the hem of her dress, tugging it up and over her head and throwing it aside. He looked her over very deliberately as he took off his gloves, plucking at each leather finger in turn before drawing them off his hands. He folded the gloves, slipping them into the inside pocket of his jacket, and Lacey bounced on the toes of her high-heeled shoes, goosebumps starting to ripple over her skin. Gold nodded to her.

“Now the bra,” he said.

“What about you?”

“I’m not wearing a bra.”

She sent him a flat look.

“I mean you’re kind of overdressed for the occasion.”

“We’ll get to me in time. For the moment I want to enjoy seeing you naked.”

She grumbled under her breath, but reached behind, unhooking the bra and letting it fall at her feet. He released his breath in a long, slow sigh, his eyes glinting.

“Perfect,” he whispered. “You’re perfect, Lacey.”

“First time for everything, I guess.”

“Ah, the obligatory self-deprecation of the insecure,” he drawled.

“Fuck you, Gold.”

“I certainly hope so.”

She scowled at him, dropping her gaze to the patterned rug, but he took a step forward, slipping a finger under her chin and raising it so that he could look into her eyes.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered. “Beautiful and perfect. Believe me.”

There was an intensity in his gaze, dark eyes fixed on hers, as though he meant every word, and she closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see it, her thumbs hooking under the waistband of her underwear. She felt the press of his lips against hers, and opened her eyes.

“Let me do that,” he said quietly, and his hands covered her own, gently pushing them away from her underwear.

Lacey let them fall to her sides, closing her eyes again as he began to kiss down her neck, his hands stroking up her body to cup her breasts. His palms were warm against her cool skin, his mouth soft, fresh stubble on his chin grazing her as he kissed lower. She rose up on her toes as he put his mouth to her breast, moaning as he sucked at her, his hands cupping her. He lowered himself down, coming to rest on his knees, and she wondered if it hurt him, if his leg was paining him as he sucked at her. His mouth moved lower, over her belly, fingertips grasping the waistband of her panties and gently pulling them down over her hips to fall around her ankles.

He glanced up at her, brown eyes gleaming in the lamplight, and Lacey ran her fingers through his soft hair, letting her head roll back with a moan as he put his mouth to her. His tongue stabbed and swirled, pushing between her folds, circling her clit as he groaned in pleasure. Lacey spread her legs a little wider, and he slipped an arm between them, lifting her leg and slipping it over his shoulder so that he could reach more of her. She gasped as he licked at her, his nose rubbing against her.

“God, you taste good,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her breath cool on her wet flesh. “I need more.”

His finger stroked over her, and Lacey moaned again, her flesh still sensitive from her earlier orgasm. The finger pushed inside her, and Gold let out a low growl as it pushed deep.

“Beautiful, silky little cunt you’ve got,” he breathed. “I want to get inside you, Lacey. I want to sink deep into you and fuck you hard.”

“Oh my God!”

Her fingers twisted in his hair, her breath coming in pants as his tongue swirled over her, his finger thrusting in and out. Her body was shaking, and she could feel her climax building, rising up through her and making her muscles tense, her breathing fast and shallow. He quickened the pace of his thrusts, his thumb rubbing over her clit, and she whimpered, her cheeks flushing, pleasure blooming within her and sending a wave of heat through her body. She came with a moaning cry, jerking against his mouth, and Gold groaned, pulling out the finger and grasping her hips, his tongue sweeping through her folds to catch every drop of her cum.

She let her fingers slip from his hair, her body tingling all over, and licked dry lips, trying to catch her breath. He pressed a final kiss to her before sitting back on his heels, a slight wince the only indication that he was in pain. His chin was slick with her fluids, glistening in the light, and he swiped his thumb across before sucking it clean and letting out a low rumble of approval, dark eyes flicking up to meet hers.

“You taste incredible,” he murmured. “Get on the bed and lie back. Leave the shoes on.”

She swallowed the comment she had been about to make and climbed onto the bed in nothing but her black high heels. After a moment she rummaged in the drawer for a condom, tossing it onto the bed beside her. Her heart was thudding hard, the air cool against her hot skin, and she sat back against the pillows, drawing up her knees a little. He seemed to be taking off his shoes and socks, and she watched as he straightened up with a grimace, unbuttoning his jacket and letting it slide from his shoulders. Gold ran his eyes over her, the tip of his tongue sliding across his lower lip, as though trying to catch the last taste of her. A tiny, smug smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth, and she got the impression he was pleased with himself. As he fucking should be, that was awesome!

“Touch yourself,” he whispered. “Let me watch.”

Lacey’s breath caught, and she let a hand slide over her belly, inching slowly downwards. He unbuttoned his waistcoat, draping it over the back of the chair where he had hung his jacket and reaching for his tie. His eyes followed her fingers, and she slipped one in between her legs, finding slippery-wet heat and tender skin. Lacey sucked in a shuddering breath, watching his fingers pluck at the knot of his tie. Her clit was hard and swollen, and she circled it with the tip of her finger, letting out a tiny moan at the sensation. Gold’s smile grew, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Open your legs a little more,” he said. “Let me see how beautiful you are.”

The soles of her shoes were flat on the blankets, and she pushed them outwards a little, drawing up her knees as she stroked through her soft flesh. He had pulled the tie from around his neck, and went to work on the cufflinks, taking them out and slipping them into the pocket of his pants. Lacey teased her clit, rubbing and stroking, gasping at the jolts of pleasure going through her. He was unbuttoning his shirt, revealing flashes of tanned skin as his fingers moved down to his belly, and his lips were parted, his breathing hard and heavy as he watched her.

“That’s it,” he breathed, his eyes gleaming. “Finger yourself. Push inside. Feel where I’m gonna fuck you.”

She moaned, sliding a finger inside herself, where she was slick and hot and ready. He had got the shirt off, his chest smooth and lightly tanned, small, firm muscles jumping in his chest as he tossed the shirt aside. She licked her lips at the thought of having him pressed against her, at tasting his sweat as he pushed inside her, and she pushed the finger deeper, arching her back, toes curling in her shoes. When she opened her eyes, Gold was watching her with dark intensity, his breath coming hard, and she added a second finger, making him let out a low growl. His hands dropped to his belt.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered. “I need to get inside you, Lacey. I need to know if you feel as good as you taste.”

She moaned again, lifting her hips a little, eager for him, and he crawled onto the bed, hands sliding over her knees and pushing them apart as he kissed his way up her inner thighs. Her fingers were still inside her, and his lips brushed over her knuckles, his tongue pushing between them to taste her. Lacey drew out the fingers, letting him pull them in between his lips and suck the juices from them. He groaned as he did it, his mouth hot and wet, and he let them slip out, swirling his tongue over her clit and making her let out a loud moan of pleasure.

She stroked wet fingers through his hair, closing her eyes and losing herself in the sensation of his tongue sweeping over her. He pushed it inside her once, twice, and then began kissing his way up over her belly, gently pulling at her skin with his lips. His mouth found her nipple, sucking hard, and she moaned and pushed her hips upwards, feeling the hardness of him against her inner thigh, wanting him inside her. Lacey reached to her right, searching for the condom, and he took it from her, kneeling up between her thighs to put it on. She let her eyes drop to where his cock jutted outward, hard and thick, the dark hair around it spreading up a little way towards his belly, and licked her lips in anticipation. Gold fell forward onto his palms, transferring the weight of his body to one hand as he used the other to reach between her legs. Two fingers slipped inside her, pushing deep, and she writhed, lifting her hips a little, wanting more.

“So wet for me,” he breathed. “You feel like silk, Lacey. God, I want to feel you come!”

He drew out the fingers, taking himself in hand and teasing her entrance with the head of his cock. Lacey gritted her teeth, the anticipation almost painful, her belly tight with need. Slowly, achingly slowly, he eased into her, and she moaned, arching upwards as he sank deep with a long, low groan. He began to move with slow twists of his hips, grinding against her as he thrust in and out, and Lacey ran her hands up his arms, fingers combing through his hair.

“God, you feel so good!” he rasped. “So good to fuck!”

She moaned in response, her ability to form words having disappeared, and he raked his fingers through her curls, tugging her head back to draw his tongue up the length of her throat. She cried out as he bit down, and his tongue swept over her skin, soothing her. His mouth found her ear, his breath sending shivers coursing down through her body to her toes.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Lacey,” he whispered. “I’ve thought about you so long. How good it would feel to be inside you, to taste you on my tongue. To lick the cum from your tight little cunt and hear you scream!”

He thrust into her hard, pulling a cry of pleasure from her, and kissed along her jaw, warm, sticky fingers cupping her cheeks as his tongue parted her lips. She kissed him hungrily, thighs gripping his hips, the heels of her shoes digging into him, and he slipped an arm behind her knee, lifting her leg up onto his shoulder, allowing him to push deeper. Lacey let her head roll back, a cry bursting from her lips as he thrust into her with a rumbling growl. He was rubbing against her in just the right place, heat and wetness and friction making pleasure ripple through her body, and she whimpered, clinging to his shoulders with her fingernails, pumping her hips against him as she chased her climax. His cock was hard and thick inside her, the head rubbing against her deep inside, and she could feel sweat form between their bodies, making their skin slick, running between her breasts and beading on her upper lip. Gold licked it off with a deep growl, tongue pushing in between her lips as he thrust into her, and she held her breath, skin tingling, feeling the wave building inside her, feeling it swell and break.

She pulled her mouth from his as she came with a scream, pumping her hips, nails scoring his shoulders, and Gold let out a long groaning cry as he followed her, his cock pulsing deep inside her. The feel of it was incredible, increasing her own pleasure, wave after wave of bliss washing over her, heat flushing her cheeks and chest and her pulse pounding in her ears. His movements had quickened, his thrusts rapid and shallow, and she tried to keep pace with him, her flesh clenching around him, squeezing every drop from him. Her belly was starting to hurt from the strain of rocking her hips against him, and she collapsed back into the blankets, gasping for breath as his pace began to slow.

Gold thrust deep inside her one last time, the muscles in his upper arms taut and straining, damp strands of hair sticking to his cheeks as he let out a final, shuddering groan of pleasure. For a moment there was only the sound of them trying to catch their breath, and he lowered himself onto her with a sigh, his head pushing into the hollow between her neck and shoulder. Lacey stroked his hair, licking sweat from her lip, her heart pounding and her entire body tingling. She could feel him start to shrink inside her, and after a moment he pushed up on his elbows, a twisted little smirk on his face, heavy-eyed and contented.

“Well well,” he said softly. “That was certainly worth all the verbal sparring it took to get here.”

“Yeah.”

It was as much as she could manage. She was beginning to wonder if half her brain had blown out the back of her head. Absently, she stroked a trembling hand through his hair, and he turned his head to kiss her fingertips, the gesture of affection surprising her. He was still smiling at her.

“So,” he said. “Shall we call it even?”

#fic: turn left #golden lace fic #my fic #golden lace #fic: small world #rumbelle smut #lemons #some non-con touching #nothing major #in that Keith puts his hands on Lacey without her consent #and pays the price

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katurrade · 6 years ago

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Come Back to Me - The What Ifs (19/?)

The What Ifs is part 19 of “Come Back to Me” an AU series. This takes place right at the end of Book 3 Chapter 10, following the bombing of the palace. In this story Chapters 11+ never happen. This is going to be a slightly angsty, slightly fluffy story and is following the story line that is Riley and Liam are engaged and are supposed to be getting married. This was written on my iphone and fyi each chapter will be pretty long! Tagged long post! Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, PB does. I’m just borrowing them.

Pairing: Liam x MC

Rating: PG. Just to be safe!

Summary: Liam gets an evening visitor then retires early for the night. Riley wakes up in Valtoria for the first time......Pearls, views and chicken, oh my! Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 3,570 ish.

Tagged List: @blackcatkita @captain-kingliamsqueen @mrsdrakewalkerblog @umccall71 @hopefulmoonobject @speedyoperarascalparty @melodiouskeys @theroyalweisme @alicars @bobasheebaby @annekebbphotography @writtenbycandy @queencatherynerhys @ranishajay @blznbaby @jared2612 @bella-ca @mitalijoshi @lodberg @scarlettedragon @romanticatheart-posts @queenof1000days @lostinthe-pines @kennaxval @leelee10898 @jayjay879 @lizk77 @nazariobae @sstee1 @tornbetween2loves @elegantcowboyflappie @carabeth @ao719 @sarwin85 @cocomaxley

Side Notes: If you would like to be added to the tagged list for this, I can make that happen ;)

Guys and Gals, I’m so sorry for the delay of this chapter, I hit an inspirational wall and just needed some time to work through it. So thank you for being so patient with me, and thank you to those who reached out to see how I was. You all make me feel so special. This chapter is a filler chapter, of sorts. Not many big moves happen in this one, but it’s where my mind took the story and I’m just happy I was able to even get here. There is a flashback scene though, hopefully that makes up for the rest of the chapter! Now just to see if I can kick this mental wall down! Fingers crossed and enjoy!

Liams POV - Day 6 (Evening)

The door slowly opened and a small man, dressed in formal office attire entered with a bow. “Good Evening, Your Majesty. I’m sorry to interrupt, but Dr. Young is here and has requested to see you..” he shut the door behind him before continuing “If now is an appropriate time?”

This must be my assistant... “Of course,” he said as he took a second to open the folder on his desk, the one with the list of staff names. This was a name he should have memorized sooner. His eyes glanced over the page until he saw the name he was looking for “...Thank you, Markus. You can send him in” The small man bowed again, then exited the room. Liam stood and walked around his desk to greet the doctor as he entered the room. “Good Evening, Alex.”

He bowed “Good Evening, Liam. I apologize for the late hour, but you are a difficult man to track down,” he chuckled “Who knew finding a free moment for the King would be so hard.”

Liam laughed “You’re telling me.” He reached out and shook Alex’ hand “Please, sit” he gestured to a chair then walked back around his deck to sit.

Once Alex was seated, he placed his bag on the floor “How are you feeling, Liam? Any headaches? Or episodes of lightheadedness?”

“Not really. Though, I did have a slight headache last night, which was accompanied by a memory” he smiled at the thought.

“Oh? Are you starting to remember more?”

“Sort of. The last year is still mainly a blur, but there are moments I vividly remember as if they happened yesterday. It’s hard to explain, my memories are ....blotchy at best. If that makes sense?”

Alex nodded “It does. It’s like you have only half the pieces to a puzzle?”

“Yes, exactly”

“How is your balance? Any issues with walking?”

“Nope...” Liam scratched the back of his neck “..No issues with running either”

Alex’ eyes widened “Running?”

“Yes, I did a little running earlier but had no problems”

“Well then, I guess that is good to hear” Alex reached down into his bag to retrieve his stethoscope, pulse ox and blood pressure cuff “Mind if I just check your vitals quickly?”

“Of course not” Liam answered as he rolled up one sleeve of his dress shirt to his elbow. Alex stood and walked around the desk and took his vitals quickly. He then retrieved a pen light from his pocket to check Liam’s pupils. After a moment “It appears you are in good health, though, have you been nauseas or vomiting at all?”

“No, I have felt pretty normal actually”

“Perfect,” he put the equipment back in his bag “then I believe that is all I need for now” he picked his bag up off the floor and turned to Liam “I’d like to come back in a few days to see how you are doing, if that works?”

“Of course, just speak to Markus on the way out and he will give you some days and times”

Alex nodded, looking at the half glass of scotch in front of Liam “I ask that you take it easy, Liam. As you aren’t entirely out of the woods yet, and we want to make sure you continue to stay in good health for years to come”

Liam smiled, understanding what Alex was politely referring to “I will, in all areas” and with that Alex smiled and left.

Liam finished off the last few sips of his scotch, knowing that would be his only one tonight. Heeding Alex’ words he stood and headed towards his room. It might have been to early to sleep for most, but he was exhausted, to say the least. Both mentally and physically. And he knew his mind and body needed the rest.

Plus, if he was being honest with himself, a part of him just wanted to get through these next 2 days as fast as possible. Not only because of the emotions around the funeral but also because of his anxiety around getting Riley back. He needed to make things right. He had to.

Upon entering his room, he crossed the floor to the back wall to change. Retrieving the ring, bracelet and phone from his pocket and depositing them on top of his dresser, once again. He then removed his clothes and pulled on a set of pyjamas. He went to turn around to head to bed, when the bracelet caught his eye. He glanced over the now 3 objects that didn’t belong to him, yet were all still in his possession. He picked up the bracelet to look more closely at it, wishing he could remember the story behind it.

Objects seemed to be his memory triggers, he was starting to notice this trend. He held it in his hand and shut his eyes tightly, hoping it would trigger something. Anything. But after a few moments, nothing had happened. No memory. No headache. No nothing. He sighed heavily then returned the bracelet to the top of the dresser, before turning around and climbing into bed. He laid there for a short while, his mind racing with the what ifs.

What if, she doesn’t want me back. What if, I am too late. What if, I have ruined things for good. He could feel himself heading down the rabbit hole, but luck was on his side this time. Before he could go any deeper into the abyss, everything went dark. His mind finally shutting off, entirely. Exhaustion taking him over and allowing him to sleep.

—————————-

Rileys POV - Day 7 (Morning)

She awoke in the pitch black to a loud knocking on her door, then it opened slightly, letting in a sliver of light “Your Grace..?” She heard coming from the now ajar door. “Gladys?” She asked groggily as she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, followed with a yawn and a stretch. “Yes, Your Grace, may I enter?”

“Of course” she responded as she blindly reached out to try to find the nightstand, in the hopes there would be a lamp on it.

“Here, let me turn on some lights for you” Gladys offered as she crossed the room, flicking on a few lights as she went.

Upon the light beginning to fill the room, Riley kicked her legs off the edge of her bed and took in her surroundings. Her room was bigger then the whole of her old apartment back in New York. She hadn’t realized how massive the room was in her tired state the night before. Her eyes widened as she peered around, first at the massive canopy above her, then at the huge floor to ceiling drapes beside her. Ones she was sure were most likely covering giant windows.

“Would you like to see the best part of this room?” She asked. Riley nodded and stood up “I’d love to”

Gladys then walked over and drew back the massive curtains, relieving the most spectacular view Riley had ever seen. She made her way over to the beautiful, glass french doors just as Gladys opened them.

Riley stepped out onto the balcony and was speechless. The rolling mountains with a river travelling between them were like nothing she had ever seen before. She could have never fathomed, in her wildest dreams, that a view from her bedroom window would be this breathtaking. She began to wonder if this view had played a hand in his decision. If it was part of why Liam had chosen this exact dutchy for her. Had he ever seen this view before? Was there some meaning behind why he picked Valtoria for me? If not, what would he have thought of it, if he were standing beside me, right now— She shook her head. She couldn’t think like that, those thoughts only made her heart ache more.

All the what ifs and lost moments would threaten to drown her if she gave into them. If she focused on them or thought about them. Even for a moment. He was gone and she needed to come to terms with that lose. But how? How could she just let go of him, of what they shared. Would she always wonder what Liam would think, how he would react to a certain incident or view. Was this her life now? Something amazing happens, or she stumbles upon something beautiful beyond compare, and her first thoughts are of him, of what he would think. How depressing. How utterly exhausting—

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Gladys asked.

The words pulling her back out if her mind “Yes.... it’s breathtaking..” she responded, not turning her eyes away from the view in front of her, as tears began to pool in them. The realization that she only had herself to share these moments with now. “I can’t believe this is my bedrooms view..” she whispered, more to herself. Trying to focus on the positives, instead of all the negatives.

“If you would like, I prepared you some breakfast. Along with coffee, tea and fresh squeezed orange juice. Would you like to take your breakfast on the balcony?” she asked. Riley nodded “Yes, please Gladys”

She walked away and Riley took the opportunity to quickly wipe the tears from her eyes. Gladys returned shortly, with a cart covered in an assortment of different foods and drinks “I wasn’t sure what your morning preferences were, so I figured I’d give you some options.”

Riley turned to her “That was very sweet of you, thank you. By the way, I am a coffee drinker and love a good American style breakfast. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, toast. The works.” she moved over to the patio set and took a seat as Gladys poured her a cup of coffee “What do you take in your coffee?”

“Just 2 and 2” she responded. Gladys nodded, quickly adding the cream and sugar then placing the cup down in front of Riley. She then transferred all the food and drinks to the table.

Riley looked at the massive spread now sitting in front of her and one dish stood out... “Gladys...What is this dish called..?” She pointed to some weird variation of what looked to be ...chicken..?

“Oh, that is Pollo a La Brasa, or Peruvian grilled chicken, Your Grace. It is normally a dinner food, but here in Cordonia it is somewhat of a breakfast delicacy..”

Riley furrowed her brows at the dish “Is it any good...?” She asked hesitantly as she poked at it with her fork.

“I believe so, but everyones palates are different. I’d recommend giving it a try”

She nodded as she pulled a small piece onto her plate. She cut a little slice off and touched it to her tongue, gingerly. A surge of flavour danced on her tongue “Mmm. Gladys, this is amazing!!” She said just before she put the while piece in her mouth.

“I’m glad you like it, enjoy your breakfast, Your Grace. I will return shortly so we can begin our tour” she said as she bowed.

“Sounds wonderful, Gladys. Also, please just call me Riley. Your Grace is just so ...formal”

“Of course, Riley” she agreed then headed back into the bedroom and left.

Riley picked up her mug and turned back to the view “I don’t think I could ever get used to this” she sighed and took a sip of her coffee.

“Knock, Knock!” she heard from her room as Maxwell and Hana emerged through the french doors. Both stopping dead in their tracks. “Oh my...” they said in unison. “This view is spectacular, Riley!” Hana added.

“That it is..” Maxwell said with a smirk, though he wasn’t looking passed the balcony railing, he was starring directly at the food covered table.

Riley chuckled at Maxwell’s obvious meaning “Would you like some breakfast, Maxwell?”

“I thought you’d never ask” he eagerly said as he quickly sat down and started to load up a plate. Hana reluctantly pulled herself away from the view and joined them at the table. Riley smiled at her friends then turned her eyes back to the view. At least I have these two to share these small moments with now...

—————————-

Liams POV - Day 7 (Morning)

His head silently emerged from the scintillating waters if the Blue Grotto, taking in how the light shinned of Riley’s fair skin. Her back was to him, and he took the opportunity to watch her, for a moment, without her knowledge. Wanting to commit this wonderful moment to memory. “Okay, Liam, you’re starting to scare me...”

The fear in her voice making him decide it was time to give up his perfect viewing position. As her peace of mind was more important to him now. “Over here!” He called out. She whirled around and a relieved smile took over her face. Causing Liams heart to flutter at the sight. “Oh, there you are!” She said.

He held on tightly to the oyster in his hand, hidden behind his back. Ever since the moment they had arrived in Italy, all he could think about was this pearl. In the year since he had originally stumbled across it, it had never been so much as a thought in his mind. Filled to the back with the other unimportant memories. That is, until the day he finally realized his true feelings for Riley. It had been at the Forgotten Falls, the blue waters must have kicked up the dormant memory of the pearl. “I’ve got something I want to show you.”

He swam a little closer to her then extended out his hand, palm up, presenting the glistening, perfectly round pearl. Which was still nestled protectively in between the oysters shells. Riley stared at it, then up at him briefly, before dropping her eyes back down to the pearl. “That’s lovely! How did you find it so quickly?”

“I was here last year with my brother, and I found it while we were diving. He told me it would win the heart of any woman I gave it to. But there wasn’t anyone in my life I wanted to win over. So I left it here, hiding it back in one of the crags. I thought that if it was meant to be, I’d find it again. Knowing that it was here... and that I finally had someone I wanted to give it to...” he could feel the heat rising in his face, despite the cold air, making him undeniably sure of the blush now on his cheeks “Well, I couldn’t wait to see if I could locate it once more.” He paused upon seeing the smirk on Riley’s face. They locked eyes for a moment before he looked away, feeling rather bashful of his admission “It sounds rather silly now that I’m saying all of this out loud to you... but...” he looked back to her “Would it please you to have this?”

She swam a little closer to him, erasing the small distance that was between them. She cupped one of her hands under his “This pearl? Oh, Liam...” she looked up at him, with so much sincerity in her eyes, as she put her other hand on top of his. Now holding his in both of hers “Wait to give me this until my name is cleared. When I can tell people that you gave it to me.”

He smiled at that thought, that one day, maybe soon, they could be together, openly. No more hiding, no more secret rendezvous, no more stolen moments. Just them, together, engaged and in love. “Okay, then I will keep it. For now.”

His smile quickly faded as he saw the shudder that rushed through her, causing the water around her to ripple. “Are you cold? You’re shivering.”

She smiled meekly at him “It is getting chilly in here.”

“Let’s get out of the water for a bit. Shall I take you back?” He asked honestly, though he dreaded her responce. He wasn’t ready to end the night this early.

“Not just yet. I can manage.”

“Good.” He happily let out the breath he was holding “Honestly, I’m not ready to give you up just yet.”

He reached out and took her hand, leading her over to an outcropping of rock, just at the waters level. He climbed up first, turning to offer his hand to help her up. “Come here, I’ll help get you warm.”

Once she was out if the water, he sat down on the rock. He was just about to pulled her close but before he could, she settled in next to him. Pulling his arm around her shoulders as she tucked herself under it. Her head coming to rest on his chest. He smiled as he placed a soft kiss to her hair before resting his chin on top of her head.

After a moment of just enjoying the peace and quiet of being alone, in each others arms, he feels Riley take a deep breath “Wasn’t there something you wanted to talk about?” She asked quietly, as if unsure she even wanted to ask.

Her question reminded him of the second reason for their visit to this grotto, his brows furrowed “Yes, I’ve...” he lets out a deep sigh “perhaps been avoiding it.”

She braces a hand on his chest and sits up to face him. Worry written on her face, though she smiles encouragingly at him, as if trying to ease the topic out of him, gently.

He studies her face, taking in every beautiful inch of it. He raises his hand up to move a wet lock of hair off her forehead to behind her ear, his finger tips trailing down her jawline to her chin. His eyes following the path as they go. Once he reaches her chin, he slides his thumb gently across her lower lip then flicks his eyes up to meet hers. Hoping it will help ease her mind, even just a little. Or maybe it was more to ease his own.

“These past few weeks have been so hard on both of us. I have been putting one foot in front of the other to get through it, but...” he removes his hand from her chin and takes ahold of hers “Living like this... it isn’t fair to you. I’ve never felt so powerless. There’s only one action that I can take to change this.” He frowns.

“And what’s that?” She asks quietly.

Here it comes. “Abdicating the throne.” The words finally being spoken aloud is like an instant weight lifted from his shoulder. He had thought it many times over, over the course of the engagement tour. But it had always just been that, a thought. Now, now it was spoken, it was out there, it could be reality. It could be within his grasp. She could be.

Her eyes widen instantly upon hearing the words “What?”

“Ever since my brother abdicated, I’ve known I would marry for the benefit of Cordonia. I had made peace with that.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles “But then I met you, and I allowed myself to hope that I could marry for Cordonia and for love. Now ...” he frowned at the next words he was about to speak “I don’t want a loveless marriage, and I’ll never have anything more than that with Madeleine. There’s this thought I can’t shake off... what our life could look like together. You and I. Without the court and the Crown.” His mind filled with images of their elopement, a small, private wedding ceremony with just their friends as witnesses. Riley in a beautiful, simple white dress. Saying there vows just as the sun sets, the fading light catching in her hair. He couldn’t contain the smile forming on his lips. How happy those images made him feel in that moment. How he wished more then anything for them to come to fruition—

He awake to his alarm with a smile on his face. The bracelet had, in fact, jarred a memory loose. It may not have been his memory of the pearl bracelet itself, but clearly pearls meant something more to him. Something more to them. He wondered if he had ever given her the pearl, or if he still had it. He looked around his room for a few moments, wondering if it was stashed somewhere inside these exact 4 walls, or if she had the pearl and had chosen to keep it.

The smile on his face grew wider at that thought. Leaving him feeling even more resolved to the fact that he needed to fix things with her. He knew in this moment, that she had changed him forever. He would have easily, and gladly, given up the throne for her, before... How he could have let things get to this point was beyond him...

He kept telling himself that there was no way he could have known. He had no memories of her, how could he have known? But if he was being honest with himself, he knew she was different, or rather special, from the moment he had laid his eyes on her in the hospital. A tiny voice in him kept pushing his thoughts back to her. As if trying to help him realize how important she was. That she was his only thought, his world, regardless of what he could actually remember. Ending things with her had clearly felt wrong for a reason, he should have listened.

He sat up and pulled himself out of bed, stretching up high the second his feet hit the floor. He just needed to get through today, and the funeral tomorrow, then he could go to her. He could fix this whole mess.

He entered his closet and quickly put on his regular royal attire; a black suit. Switching out the white button up for a black one instead, being that they were all still in mourning. Then he made his way towards his office, knowing what would greet him once he got there. The list of preparations that still needed to be addressed for the funeral. For his press release. In this moment, he was thankful that he had gone to bed early the night before. For the first time in days, he had managed to finally catch up on some, very much needed sleep. Now he was ready to get this all over with and get his engagement back on track.

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Chapter 20 - Coming *hopefully* soon ...

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