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yournameyn · 3 years ago

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Feeling Deeply Chapter 5

Genre: Arranged Marriage Fic. Fluff turning into angst?

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Summary: The story of two deeply feeling nerds who find themselves in an arranged marriage. (Details here). Our OC is called Brishti. It’s a Bengali name meaning rain. Namjoon calls her Rim (short for her pet name, RimJhim which means the pitter-patter of rain). She calls him Joon.

Warnings: NOT THE NAMJOON OF OUR DREAMS. Argument. Fight over tiny discrepancies that turn out to be a huge problem. Domestic violence. Not a happy chapter.

A/N: Have you ever felt this, reader? When you watch something and realise exactly what you need to realise in that moment? I’ve had that so many times - seeing my feelings mirrored in a show. That’s something that I’ve tried to have Brishti feel here. Also, this is how I see the natural progression of this Namjoon, the one who obliged to duty rather than his dreams. It took me a long time to write this but I love what’s come out. Let me know what you think!

Current Chapter: London, late 1963. Love fully blooms between Namjoon and Brishti. And yet, something’s not right. A visit to the ballet and a conversation brings forth realisations. The inklings that Brishti was trying to avoid transform into writing on the wall.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The magic about new love isn’t really in romance or even in true intimacy. It’s in how violent new love is… and just how much time it takes us to feel it’s impact.

In the new love between Namjoon and Brishti, everything had been roses and honey, overflowing, swaying in a gentle breeze. They spent every second possible in each other’s arms. They had to tear themselves away from each other when they had to leave home. And even then, it hurt as though they were part of the same cloth.

Brishti had thought about how they had become woven, their souls an ornate tapestry. Namjoon had told her then about a Japanese tradition of weaving that was a sort of meditation and a kind of worship to a god called ‘Musubi’. The disciples say it is like being part of the cosmic tapestry. Being tied to each other.

“Just like we are… I felt a pull toward you and I followed it. I was scared… so full of doubts about who you were and how this was all going to go… I had promised myself that I would fulfil my duty… whatever happened ” Namjoon had said, petting Brishti’s hand gently, “And I… I still can’t believe it… It… you make me feel like I can… trust myself.” Brishti had looked at her genius then and wondered what a strange world it must be that made a man like Namjoon doubt himself, “Always, always trust yourself, Namjoon-ah.” and settled into the crook of his neck.

It was indeed a strange world that caused Namjoon to build an armour around himself. Because ‘London’ and ‘Lonely’ sounded just the same to him. His years alone in this strange place had been unkind, unrelenting. Brishti had been the only softness he had felt in a long long time. Armours built over years can break in an instant, though. For him, it was the moment when he and his wife had crossed the threshold to becoming lovers. High on the magic of new love, he had not realised it.

Sitting across from each other after that fateful evening, Namjoon and Brishti were both wide awake in the early hours of the next morning. Brishti buttoned up the shirt they never fully took off. Namjoon had tickled her with his toes. They propped their feet against the other’s to see just how vast the difference was (he melted seeing how small her feet were and hadn’t stopped playing with them since). Caressing each toe, he remembered something he wanted to ask -

“How did you know what Saranghae is?”

“Mm…” she stretched her arms, “I know what it means…” Brishti said.

“I know you know… from the way you… after I said it… You asked Yoongi about it?” Namjoon cautiously asked about the only other Korean Brishti knew. To his surprise, she nodded no, still denying him any information. Namjoon had to tickle her foot for the answer.

“Okay! Okay! Wait! Pleeeease!” Namjoon stopped and Brishti bent down to the bureau next to her bed and pulled out a textbook - LEARN HANGUL THROUGH ENGLISH. Namjoon looked more shocked than she had expected. “I asked Yoongi about the book-”

“You don’t need to Rim… I’m not learning Bangla, am I?” Namjoon said. He was touched but he didn’t want his love to do anything he couldn’t reciprocate.

“I would have asked you to learn it… if I wrote poetry in my mothertongue...” Brishti said. Namjoon was shocked. She went on, “You really think I didn’t know?”

Namjoon blushed and smiled and flopped over in Brishti’s lap. She brushed his hair as she explained, “You light up at the mention of lyrics and poetry, you keep a notebook by your side at all times, you’re moved by the things that people usually don’t pay attention to… I know you’re a poet, Joonie.”

Namjoon looked up at her and said, “No one has ever called me that…”

Brishti leaned down and kissed her gorgeous husband. “You are... From what I know, I bet all my books that you are a great one... And… I… I would love nothing more than to be part of your world of words, Joonie… It must be strange… to be understood but in a foreign language. If you would let me, I want to understand you in your language… Do you think that’s something maybe--”

He got up and all but jumped on Brishti, pinning her down to the bed with the cutest puppy-yell she had ever heard. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

They both understood that this was a proposal. The truest kind - a gentle request to explore Namjoon’s universe. They would later joke about how she proposed to him after a month of being married. Namjoon was completely delighted by this person with him, his person… one who really saw him.

He pulled her to him saying, “You’re the best part of my world, Rim...” and kissed her.

Each moment of love flowed through the next. When they had to be separated, they couldn’t wait for the next one, their moment again. On weekends they would visit museums and find their favourite paintings and sculpture or their favourite prehistoric relic and animal. Brishti hated the fact that Namjoon had to work overtime to compensate for these weekends and she often voiced how unfair it was.

In response Namjoon would just give her a peck and say, “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” This pricked her but she was too taken by the man before her to pay heed to it.

Namjoon was just about able to keep a straight face at work but everyone around Brishti was acutely aware of how much she loved Namjoon.

At one point, her colleague and best friend, Min Yoongi had yelled at her, “Yhaaaaa! Stop blushing?! It’s just a clock… what could be romantic about a clock?!” Sayuri-san, and she were hanging around Yoongi’s table when Brishti looked at his new flip clock and started blushing.

Brishti laughed along with everyone else but explained, “It’s involuntary… that’s what happens when you’re married to a poet.”

Sayuri-san corrected, “I know too many wives of poets to know that’s not necessarily true… It is true though, when you’re in love with a poet… Go on… tell us how exactly poet Namjoon makes you blush about a clock...”

Brishti blushed even more at that. Yoongi rubbed his arms and demanded, “Tell us because there’s some really weird things coming to my mind… like you guys have an exact time when...”

Brishti stopped his imagination, “No no no… it’s nothing like that… he loves digital clocks... because he loves to watch the time turn to 00:00… zero o’clock he calls it… and on days he feels sad, it’s like zero o’clock is always there to comfort him… like it’s a point when the whole world holds its breath and he can feel happy again… but these days… with me… he said he wants the clock to keep going after 23:59… he wishes time would stretch on… beyond 24:01…”

Yoongi sighed and sat back down, “You’re making me fall in love with Namjoon… ahhh that is beautiful. He should be published...”

“Imagine him saying this directly to you and you might know how I feel… I can’t stop talking about him...”

“Oh, we know. But honestly none of us care… your poet-librarian romance is getting us through our single-ness.” Yoongi reassured her.

The three of them continued to talk about the ways in which Brishti could repay Namjoon’s wordsmithing in graphic ways.

It was that evening, wasn’t it, when Namjoon had enveloped her back in the warmest hug as soon as he’d entered their flat. Brishti was in the kitchen when she heard him enter but hadn’t expected this. He kissed her neck while telling her the good news, “We got our first Korean client today… because of me… Mmmm… Why do you always smell so amazing?”

Brishti turned around and hugged him again, “That’s amazing! Namjoon-ssi! I’m so proud of you!”

“He’s from a wealthy family… so he can actually afford our firm… its not exactly the work I wanted to do--”

“It is a step toward that idea, right? It’s still good work, fighting for justice?” Brishti asked, stopping him from undermining his own work.

Namjoon nodded, “Yeah… He’s a dancer… Park Jimin. All the posh types know him as one of the best dancers in the Royal Ballet. They call him Jim… as if it’s too difficult to say Jimin?” Namjoon shook his head in disapproval. He began helping Brishti with the chopping and continued, “He was born in the UK and trained since he was 5... He got into the Royal Ballet but he’s been passed up to be a principal over and over even though everyone who has seen him dance apparently knows that he’s far far better… So recently he spoke to the director there... and of course the director made a racist slur and asked not to bother him with this again. He can’t even quit and work at another company because of the contract they have him on. There’s a non compete clause… meaning he won’t be able to dance with any other company. That’s all he wants… to be able to get out of that contract… I’m hoping to convince him to press charges on racial discrimination too. We’re not in the 20s anymore.”

When Brishti didn’t respond, Namjoon looked up at her. “That’s horrible… I’m so so glad you’re taking up the case. But please tell me what you ate when you were alone?” He looked down at the carrot he’d been failing to cut.

Namjoon scrunched his nose and admitted, “Canned food mostly.”

Brishti said, “I’m really really glad you’re getting to do work that you are passionate about, Joonie, you deserve it. Now, you should know how to cut a carrot.”

Namjoon pressed up against Brishti’s back. She reached back up to the nape of his neck and made him moan into her. Then… then Namjoon made her forget how to cut carrots.

He had these ways… Namjoon, with his touch, his voice, his languages both spoken and soundless. He was lighting new paths into her self. She loved learning him. Paths she didn’t know existed, that she’d been longing for.

The scars of the loneliness, emptiness that Namjoon had experienced had turned his longings into a kind of starvation. He needed to be nourished and also devoured. Brishti was just the creature to do it. He could feel her warm fingers trace rows of pleasure onto his skin. He felt them bear down and singe when the two of them had to move away from each other. He felt those ropes tug at him as the end of his workday neared. Namjoon closed his eyes each night at her touch, the feeling and fragrance of her body. He felt blooms of intimacy spring up like seedlings out of the soil of his skin. And deeper. In the earth of his soul. So he did the only thing he could. Reciprocate. Namjoon sowed his love, his desire, his need onto her, into her every night.

There were times, though, when she would feel his absence in the middle of the night and see him working in the dim light of a lamp. She knew he had to work hard to do what he wanted but she also saw he had to continually prove himself to people who weren’t even paying attention. The reason they weren’t paying attention was painfully clear to Brishti but she was yet to experience it’s full stab.

Namjoon wanted to shield her from it. He was counting on an armour that didn’t exist anymore to protect himself and his wife… the reason he liked his life again. Whenever she came out and switched on a brighter light, reprimanding him for straining his gorgeous eyes, he saw that it did prick her - this world and the unfairness he had to endure. She would say something small, an almost-complaint that alerted him… against her for some strange reason. She would say something that would be easy to ignore and yet would prick him, like - “I don’t know why they haven’t promoted you yet.” or “Why haven’t they taken up Jimin’s case yet? You’ve worked so hard on it.” Everytime she did that, he would have to pacify himself.

‘I’ve told her so much about the Jimin case… she’s just really invested’ Namjoon thought to himself. Just so he would avoid thinking, ‘I shouldn’t have told her.’

He would have to calm himself, give her a peck and try to convince her to stop worrying. “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” Namjoon would always say.

Then, Brishti smiled as she always did. While trying to understand why that sentence bothered her so much. After almost five months of exploring this wonderful man, some part of him still felt unfamiliar… like it didn’t fit in with the rest. Still, these things take time, she had heard from so many women over the years. Besides, she was blessed with a man far far above the norms. So, how could she prod? These are things Brishti had told herself - until the night she couldn’t stay silent.

The couple was coming up on their fifth month together and Park Jimin had gifted Namjoon a ticket to the final show of the season as a token of gratitude, for having heard his story.

Brishti was nervous about going to this kind of a gathering and had told her husband to meet her there.

She had enlisted the help of Sayuri-san to look appropriate for the event. Her slightly longer hair was clipped and her eyes were kohled. She wore a burgundy knee length fringe-ended dress that she had received from her gracious host, stylist and make-up artist - an inheritance of her brilliant life tucked into the black pearl beading and deco design. It was a big departure from the usual tie-die or band tees and jeans with her baggy coat. She had carried the coat but felt this strange sort of compulsion to stand in the cold air in the noodle strap dress, for him to see her.

She felt butterflies in her stomach and kept fiddling with the coat she had draped over her arm. It was electric when she saw him.

Namjoon looked gorgeous in a tux. All of Brishti’s nerves were soothed just by looking at him. He had brushed his hair back. Tall and dashing - better than any heathcliffe could ever be. And with his reading glasses, he looked like the lead of a romance novella that would make all the women swoon. Indeed she was swooning. Brishti was suddenly warm in the chilly, windy night. And when Namjoon saw her, blood rushed to her cheeks. Everything inside her was running helter skelter in a panic. Brishti felt everything drop in the few moments it took for Namjoon to reach the top of the stairs. Dolled up like this, outside of her element, she felt like an imposter. Some angel needed to be standing in her place. For the first time, feigning beauty, Brishti felt like she wasn’t worthy of her husband.

She was finally able to keep her feelings aside when he reached her.

Namjoon kissed her palm like a gentleman and whispered in her ear, “Let’s go home… I need a private kind of dance…” Brishti blushed. Namjoon put his arm around her and felt the chill that had settled on her skin. “Aren’t you cold? Why didn’t you wear the coat?” Namjoon asked. Brishti just shook her head no and the two of them walked in.

Brishti assumed that the ballet would be a welcome distraction from the storm that brewed within her. She had read up about the show, the piece they were going to perform -

Tchaikovsky’s venerated Swan Lake. The story of a young girl who falls in love with a prince who promises to save her but fails. Ofcourse there were finer nuances to the story but this was the basic plot. As the lights dimmed, Brishti felt pulled in by the music, the eerie beauty of it’s melody played in perfectly with the questions that were swirling around in Brishti’s mind -

Why do I feel wrong?

Is this what Yoongi was talking about? Anxiety…?

Why does Namjoon look so... different?

Why is he so quiet, so… distant…It’s like he’s keeping himself away from me despite being right next to me, arm in arm, like the true Namjoon is somewhere in a glass case? Deep deep beneath whatever this creature is who is next to me?

I’m thinking too much. No. What is this? Why am I feeling this way?

It’s the music… no its not just the music… something is fucking wrong because all I feel like doing is breaking that glass case that’s locked away My Namjoon and presented this fucking imposter. What the hell is going on?!

Brishti barely managed to keep it together. She kept her eyes on stage…

It was like seeing a moving painting being created by invisible hands and the music was the sound of the brushstrokes, amplified. Park Jimin was playing Rothbart, the owl-like magician who curses Odette into a swan until she finds someone who would promise to love her forever. The questions in her mind and the power of the spectacle before her forced her tears to keep flowing.

Namjoon saw Brishti cry and held on to her. But the more he tried to comfort her, the more uneasy she became, the more she coudln’t contain the tears in her eyes.

The curtain fell at the end of Act three when the prince realises he has been tricked. Brishti, somehow, mirrored his grief. The prince was cheated by Rothbart into believing that his daughter, Odile, was Odette. Rothbart relished his plan so despicably it made Brishti’s stomach turn. The prince had already declared to the ballroom full of people his vow to love and marry the maiden by his side - Odile, not Odette. Park Jimin played Rothbart so skillfully, so beautifully that despite being the villain, despite being covered from head to toe, he was the star. Rothbart giggled delightfully as he revealed to the prince that the girl in his arms wasn’t Odette at all. That Odette was waiting for her prince by the lake. The curtain fell as the prince felt the stab of betrayal and rushed to Odette.

Brishti rushed to where she did not know. She wanted to get away from Namjoon, from this feeling that she couldn’t understand, couldn’t explain. She was angry. She wanted to break something. Tears still flowing down her face, she found a corner that was hidden away in darkness. She went in. Brishti sat on the couch there, for what seemed like eternity, breathing heavily. Nothing made sense. It felt like her insides were twisting into each other. Suddenly, though, a door creaked open and out came an angel. A man, glowing, having just freshened up. He saw her, saw her fear and instead of pulling back in shock, approached with a strange kindness. He held her wrist and stayed silent for a moment.

His beauty was also a kindness to her. In that moment, Brishti could breathe a little bit better. He sat down by her knees, on the floor and when he spoke, his voice flowed like a tonic, “First time at the ballet? It’s overwhelming… I know. You’re okay. You are safe. Rothbart is not here. Talk to me… what are you feeling?”

The tears kept flowing. This man was different, she knew he understood what she was feeling like. She felt safe, but not as if she was with a saviour, rather as though she was with another victim.

“What are you feeling…” Park Jimin repeated. The pieces were falling into place in her head. This is Park Jimin, the man who danced as Rothbart. The man who should have danced the Prince. Who should have played Odette and Odile.

“I feel… rage.” Brishti trembled as she spoke. She could breathe again.

“Yes… Rothbart is… evil… I’m sorry-”

Brishti nodded her head no. “At the prince.”

Jimin was surprised. “Let it out. You can scream in here and no one would know.”

Brishti didn’t need another invitation, but her rage wasn’t a scream, it was a whisper - “I want to hit the prince. How could he not now? He couldn’t see that that girl was not Odette? Is he blind? The way she moved, the way she danced… which only means… it means that the prince knew… somewhere he felt doubt but he… He couldn’t fucking trust himself enough?! I don’t know why this is breaking my heart… Why can’t people trust in themselves?! It’s a pathetic fucking excuse and I can’t buy it… I just can’t. Why did the prince...” Her hands covered her face as she wiped her tears. She composed herself.

Jimin pulled out a kerchief. “May I?” Brishti nodded and he dabbed her face with care.

“The prince trusted his sight more than his soul. And now, Odette will die because of it. As always, the woman pays the price.”

“He dies too, you know.”

“What a waste…”

Jimin smiled, “Thank you… for watching the show, for feeling it so much.”

Brishti managed a weak smile, “Thank you.” Jimin stepped away and sat next to her, at a respectable distance. “I’m being lied to.”

Jimin nodded, “I know what that’s like. I feel that rage against the prince too. And still, we must be kind to our liars.”

Brishti clenched her teeth, “Why? Where’s the fairness in that?”

Jimin moves away, in a dejected kind of daze and pours himself a drink, “That’s the biggest lie, fairness. Cruel joke.”

Brishti walked toward the door. “I should go… Thank you.”

Jimin raised his glass to her.

Brishti wore her coat and walked toward the exit. She found Namjoon in a panic and suddenly felt like she could reach him. He looked so relieved to see her. She couldn’t help but feel awash with love as he crashed into her in the warmest hug. It was as if he was the one who was lost.

“Are you okay? Why were you crying?” Namjoon asked her as he stroked her head and held her in the hug for as long as she needed.

“I need to ask you something.” Brishti whispered as she pulled away. They began walking down the stairs of the theatre.

“Änything.” Namjoon replied.

“Your firm… they refused the Jimin case, right?”

Namjoon froze. His jaw locked up. “Let’s go home.”

The rest of the way, neither of them spoke a word. They entered their home in a cold silence. They washed the night off themselves and entered their bedroom, which was completely devoid of the heat and desire that usually filled it right up to the ceiling. What used to feel like an ocean, now felt like a vacuum.

When Namjoon walked in, Brishti reminded him, as kindly as she could,“I said I need to ask you something. You said, ‘anything’.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about it.” Namjoon was cold again. Unfeeling. Unreachable.

Brishti tried her best to be calm… “When would you want to talk about it?”

Namjoon breathed in - “Why? Am I answerable to you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we disagree. I don’t think I am answerable to you. What would you have done if I wouldn’t have told you about it in the first place?”

“I would still be feeling what I’m feeling… I would be even more furious though.”

“Fu- why would you be furious? I have to work there, I lost the account. I’m feeling hurt and disappointed in myself and instead of helping me, you’re angry?! What the hell could you be angry at?!”

“I’m being lied to. I’m being tricked.”

“What?!” the contempt on Namjoon’s face made her head throb. He was angry now.

“There are two Namjoons here. I’m being told there’s only one and--”

“That is some philosophical trash that you learned from one of your books. Real life doesn’t work that way. But how would you know?! You don’t have a real job. You have a hobby. A hobby of stacking books in order. You’re just plain lucky that someone is paying you for your hobby. That’s not a job. You of all people cannot tell me about the things I have to do to keep my job. I have tried my best to be as honest as I can be--”

“As honest as you can --”

“Listen to me!” Namjoon thundered. His loud voice might as well have been a punch. It rang through her body and rattled her bones. She had tears in her eyes but clenched them down as Namjoon continued yelling, “Enough… enough with the fucking tears. What the fuck are you so sad about?! I don’t need you to pity me. I don’t need anyone to feel sad for me. I have tried to be a good man - do you even know how much other men don’t even mention to their wives?! I told you everything. EVERYTHING. And now I’m being punished for it. Time and time again I tried to console you… even though I was the one hurting… I tried to be there for you and tell you… as long as I have --”

Brishti couldn’t take it anymore “Don’t. Say that.” She didn’t yell. Her voice was just above a whisper and yet it sent a chill down Namjoon’s spine. She wiped her tears. “I didn’t ask to be consoled. I was just… curious. If a few questions from me hurt so much maybe you should ask yourself why. I’m not lucky that someone decided to pay me for my hobby. It’s nice to know what you really think of my job. But whatever you think, I created my job. I created my life. I fought to come to london. I fought for the right to earn--”

“Oh please... spare me the feminist lecture...” scoffed Namjoon.

“Sure. Take up Jimin’s case.”

Namjoon felt the burn of white hot rage. He wanted to strangle her. He was so used to touching her… and she was his… in this bedroom, he had made her his. He wasn’t thinking. Namjoon strode toward her and held one massive palm over her mouth and the other on her neck and pinned her to the wall. “YOU WOULDN’T HAVE KNOWN ABOUT THAT IF I DIDN’T TELL YOU.”

It took him a few moments to realise what he was doing. Brishti was shocked and tried to scream but no voice came out. She was trying to get him out of his daze when he finally saw her, saw his Rim, horrified… by him. Namjoon pulled his hands back instantly. He saw a red bruise bloom where his hands were - on her face and on her neck.

“This is how you make your conscience shut up?” Brishti’s voice was hoarse. “You think this has nothing to do with your conscience? With the best part of you? The part that you made me fall in love with? Are you really telling me you don’t know that this is why you can’t write the way you used to… You’re killing my Joon and asking me to stay silent. I can’t.”

The searing anger still hadn’t died and it burst out of him, “Why are we fighting like this… over Jimin… why don’t you take up his case if you fucking love him so much?”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?”

“You… Why are you fighting for him against me?!” It was here that Namjoon realised his armour was gone. The idea of who he is... suddenly vanished. And the one thing that had made him feel safe, like his true self, was slipping away. “You’re saying… just tell me… you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

Brishti did him the only kindness she had left in her, she explained, “Jimin wants to leave but can’t. He stays because he needs to dance. He stays because he cannot get out of his contract. You say you want to help people like Jimin, you roll your eyes at white people who can’t pronounce our names, you feel guilty for asians who have much less than we do… but then you also don’t raise an issue when your boss holds meetings in clubs where people of other races and dogs and women are not allowed. You work overtime for the privilege of weekends… You say you are trying but… as far as I know… you don’t have a non-compete clause in your contract, Namjoon.”

That hit him like an iceberg. Namjoon’s legs gave way and he just sat on the bed.

He watched as Brishti put on her coat and left, covering her bruises with a scarf.

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Chapter 6 - to be posted.

#bts kim namjoon #kim namjoon #forever rain #fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon arranged marriage #namjoon x oc #arranged marriage #slow burn #slow burn fic #fluff fic #bts fanfic #bts #indian oc #red thread fics

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acuteagawa · 4 years ago

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The Tainted Sorrow

So... I sinned again TwT. Extremely NSFW content ahead!!

Here is a little smut I’ve written in the span of a couple of days,, as usual it’s pure PwP because I’m a freak and I really love Chuuya so fucking much it’s not healthy anymore :) Please can someone talk to me about Chuuya :) I need to talk about him so much help :)

A low sigh escaped his dry, chapped lips. Gods, he was so tired and so overworked that he had barely been able to remove his shoes as he opened the front door of the apartment. If there was one thing that Chuuya hated with a passion it was working overtime. Sure, he was one of the Port Mafia’s greatest executives and his job didn’t exactly involve having typical working shifts, but that didn’t stop him from hating those damned unexpected commitments; working during the night was something he despised mainly because that meant he wasn’t able to cuddle next to you.

Work had been boring that night. Truth being said, Mori hadn’t been providing him with exciting missions in a while, really. Every day was just like the day before, and the only thing that managed to keep him grounded was the thought of you, waiting patiently for his return in the comfort of his apartment. He worked hard just to keep you safe and spoiled, he would gladly work overtime for the rest of his existence if that meant he’d be able to provide for you in every way imaginable, just like you deserved. You were his queen, after all: everything he did, everything he was able to achieve and everything he cared about was you. You, and you only.

It took him a couple of months of dating before he finally found the balls to ask you to move in. He had been clear from the start about how dangerous and deadly his job really was: you didn’t exactly know everything in detail, but you knew enough to trust his suggestion. Chuuya was extremely paranoid when it came to you and your safety, and at the end of the day he considered himself the only man who was really able to keep you safe: during the first months of your relationship, he tried to leave you some space alone, scared that his crazy life would overwhelm you and that you would leave him for someone else. Someone normal. At first, his most trusted henchmen were the ones appointed with your safety: he made sure they’d follow you closely almost everywhere, without you noticing anything out of the ordinary. He was fine with for a while, but everything changed after you were almost injured during a car crash. His obsession with you and your wellbeing became so strong that it managed to keep him up at night, paranoiac thoughts about loosing you started coursing in his brain during his every waking moment. He couldn’t afford to loose you, you were the only person in this world who accepted him and his many flaws, he treasured you like you were a doll made of the finest porcelain.

Needless to say, Chuuya had been thinking about you all day, as always. His henchmen had informed him with a call of your return to his apartment after the end of your shift in the late afternoon, and told him that you didn’t leave after that. After that, his mind was at peace: knowing that you were in the safest place you could be helped him relax enough for him to keep working during the night, with a wide grin on his lips. He just couldn’t wait to find you safe and sound in his home and finally feast on you.

He was also pleased to notice that you were finally growing accustomed to his rules. A soft smile crept across his features as soon as he reached the front door and gingerly noticed that you finally complied with his request of locking yourself inside. There had been quite a number of fights over this matter: you criticised him for being too obsessive and overprotective, and he was furious at you for being too careless and not serious enough about danger, even after all his warnings. Chuuya grabbed his keys from the pocket of his long coat and turned the doorknob, unlocking the front door with a clack of his tongue and an eyebrow raised with satisfaction. He yawned loudly, kicking the shoes away from his feet as he stepped in the comfort of his home; it was past midnight, he didn’t expect you to still be awake and waiting, so he hurriedly hang his coat and hat somewhere and headed straight to his bedroom.

His heart started pumping ten times faster at the mere sight of you, sleeping softly in his oh so big bed while wearing one of his looser t-shirts, which was hugging your tiny body in all the right places, leaving nothing to the imagination. His grin widened as his hooded eyes ranked all over your sleeping form, taking in your peaceful and blissful expression: he loved waking up to your soft huffs, and he considered himself the luckiest man on Earth to be able to fall asleep listening to the sweet sound of your heart beating against his chest. Fuck, he loved you so much it was almost embarrassing. Not to mention, the tiniest glimpse of your white panties showing from underneath his t-shirt was setting his loins on fire; truthfully, he’d been hard for the majority of the day. Images of the night prior kept flooding his mind: he couldn’t stop thinking about how tight you felt, or how loud and strong you came on his cock as he coaxed the third orgasm out of your system with the harsh and quick snap of his hips. It was hard to believe that the sleeping angel in front of him was the same girl who had begged him to fill her up with his cum the day before, almost crying because of his teasing.

Chuuya wasn’t exactly an egoistic man, he was usually generous and kind with you; he hated to be this selfish and actually wake you up, but he really needed you right now, as his own hand simply wouldn’t do it for him tonight. He needed to feel your insides tighten and twist around his cock, milking him until the last drop of cum found its place inside of you, his thrusts deep and punctuated against your sweet spot making you cry desperately. He wanted to hear your moans, feel your fingers scrape against his skull, pulling his messy hair while clenching down onto him. A low groan slipped from him as he lowered himself slowly onto the mattress. He was extremely tired and sleepy, but the tingling sensation of his strained cock was just too intense for him to ignore. You were still sleeping soundly, your sweet body was facing away from him while you hugged his pillow tightly. Chuuya hated himself deeply right now, disturbing you was the last thing he wanted to do considering how tired you’d be from work, but his mind was racing wildly and you were the only one able to help his current situation: his enraged erection was throbbing painfully against his work pants and to feel your skilled touch was all he could ever desire right now.

His hands found their place against your waist, settling heavily on your hips while he pressed his chest against your back, hugging you lovingly. His face nuzzled in your long hair, inhaling the sweet vanilla scent he was so fucking addicted to; with one hand he removed the hair that was covering your milky neck and placed a few sloppy kisses on the sensitive skin there, up until his wet tongue found your ear and started licking it slowly. His hips started bucking unconsciously against your plush ass, eliciting a few groans and grunts which he spilled directly into your ear.

The feeling of his rutting stirred you from your sleep, the oh so familiar soft moans of Chuuya were the first things you heard as you wiped the sleep away from your tired eyes. You heard him grunt softly, one of his hands was anchored at your hip, keeping you still, while the other one was skimming right below your t-shirt -well, his t-shirt-, the calloused pads of his fingertips caressing your ribcage gently, making you shudder.

“Chuu-…ya?” You whispered softly, turning your head ever so slightly, just enough to meet his hungry eyes. The consistent feeling of his solid cock pressing against your behind made your voice tremble: you immediately understood how needy and turned on he was just by how hard his hands were grasping your hips.

“Hmm.” He just hummed his reply, which you knew meant his mind was somewhere else completely. He was now aware of the fact that you were not sleeping anymore: as a result, the harshness of his thrusts and of his grip increased by tenfold, the softness of your sleepy voice only worsened the desperate need of burying himself to the hilt inside your wet warmth. His skilled fingers travelled from your hip to your panties, hooking gingerly around the elastic band and dragging them down with one swift motion.

“Ah… Wait, Chuuya…” Your voice was reduced to nothing more than a whisper mixed with a pleading moan. You were still recovering from the past night, the bruises caused by the raw drag of his hips were still fresh and hurting, and you were still feeling too sensitive for him to just plunge himself inside of you, not so soon at least.

“Y/N… What’s wrong?” The motion of his hips stopped as soon as he noticed distress coursing through your trembling voice. His brows knitted as he looked at you properly for the first time that night: seeing your sleepy, teary eyes in contrast with the deep blush of your cheeks did nothing to help the animalistic urge of bending you on all fours right then and there. But he knew he needed to exercise some restraint for your sake: Chuuya would never hurt you without you asking, no matter how angry or horny he was.

“It still hurts… Please be gentle.” You whispered, your tiny hand reached for his much bigger one and wrapped around it tenderly, wanting to reassure him and slow him at the same time.

He immediately understood what you were referring to and ultimately released some pressure from your bruised hips; he knew he had left some pretty nasty marks on you the other day, the memory of seeing you all marked up and filled with his cum sent shivers down the entirety of his spine, feeling his throbbing cock twitch in response.

“I’ll try to be gentler this time, then.” He smiled gently while running the tip of his nose along your neck, followed by the feeling of his rough tongue licking just behind your ear. You shuddered at the sensation of his wet and sloppy kisses, which were playing as a great distraction from the intrusion of one first, long finger probing right at your entrance. You gasped softly, your hand wrapped around his with added strenght, guiding him and setting a comfortable pace for the both of you.

You heard Chuuya groan lowly as he inserted the first finger inside of your tight core, unable to repress his moans as he finally felt your painfully narrow walls wrap and clench around his digit. He added a second one almost immediately after and this time you moaned too, wincing out of pure reflex: your walls were still extremely delicate and he was grazing inside with his nails, trying to find your sweet spot with each thrust.

“How are you still so fucking tight… You’re swallowing them all up, did you miss me so bad?” He groaned while smirking, face buried deep into your hair as he tightened the grip of his arms around you, feeling your back arch away from his body. He was holding you still, pressed firmly against his chest, with three fingers buried knuckle-deep inside of you; the only things you could hear right now were the squelching sound of him playing with you, your soft moans and his quiet grunts.

You were already a whimpering mess: he was now using his painfully long fingers to scissor you, while his thumb pressed light circles on your neglected clit, making you cry louder and move desperately to meet his pace halfway. Chuuya never allowed you to completely free yourself from his strong arms, so you grabbed his biceps and dug your own fingernails into his soft flesh, in desperate need to claw down at something just to anchor yourself.

It didn’t take long before his middle finger was pressing repeatedly against your sweet spot: the feeling of his skilled fingertips mixed with the roughness of his calloused thumb toying with your clit made you twitch and press harder against him, a familiar bubble forming down your lower belly and threatening to snap at any given moment. You could feel his wide smirk as he kissed your head lovingly, thoroughly enjoying seeing you so desperate for his touch. Chuuya loved being in control, he loved to remind you that he was the only man allowed to make you feel like this, his name was the only one you were allowed to scream and his cock was the only one allowed to spill inside you.

“Cumming for me already, hm? Do you like my fingers that much, baby? Answer me.” His tone was so dark, so lustful that you felt your walls clench at the mere sound of it. He increased the speed of his hand, chasing down your release like a starved man: he needed more, you needed to give him more.

“Chu-Chuuya… Please! I’m almost..!” You cried loudly, throwing your head back so that it was now resting over his shoulder. As you opened your eyes, you found his dark ones already fixed on your expression, hooded and hungry: he loved seeing you like this, he could easily cum just from that. Harsh pants fanned against his face, you were so fucking close…

“Now now. We don’t want the fun to end so soon, do we?” As you heard him say those words, you also felt his fingers leave your core. Your walls clenched around nothing a couple of times, eager to feel something, anything. But Chuuya was a tease, even when the both of you were tired and exhausted from work.

You whined loudly, not really caring about anything else other than your own orgasm. He had been the one waking you up and now he was teasing? You simply couldn’t believe this man’s audacity. Your head whipped around, brows furrowed in a severe frown and ready to curse him for it, but what you were met with was possibly the most lustful sight you’ve ever seen in your life: Chuuya was watching your face intently, his hooded eyes meeting yours while his tongue lapped his fingers clean of your juices, moaning like a horny teenager.

“You taste like heaven, love. I’m scared I’ve become addicted to your taste.” He smiled crookedly at you, knowing far too well how to win against your temper.

“You’re a fucking tease, Chuuya. First you wake me up because you’re horny and then you back off, you should know far too well it’s not funny.” You teased him back, implying at how frustrated he would always sound whenever you’d deny his release. Well, he made sure to punish you every time you tried to play smart with him, but he couldn’t deny that being teased felt like hell.

He finally peeled his hot body from yours, a loud “tsk” escaping from his lips as he proceeded to kneel on the mattress behind you. You heard the distinctive sound of his leather belt being loosened, your eyes connecting with his once again before trailing down his torso and lower half: he was sporting a big tent in his slacks, it looked quite crammed and painful in there, but you bit your tongue and refrained yourself from commenting about it. You knew better. He clearly wasn’t in the mood to play anymore, you deduced it by the look he was giving you: his hooded eyes were glazed with a thin veil of liquid lust, his dark pupils were blown out and covered the majority of his blue irises, while his hands were making a quick work of his belt and quilted gilet. He tossed his clothes somewhere in the room without much care, and you almost laughed at how needy and desperate he looked.

“I’m simply complying with your request of being gentle, love. But since you look more than ready to me, how about lifting those hips of yours for me like the good girl you are, hm?” He continued, placing his hands on your hips and dragging you back towards his body once again, so that your ass was sticking out and he could easily press his clothed erection against your soaking entrance. You gasped at the sudden contact, still sensitive from his fingers and from the loss of your high. Your eyes peaked shyly at him, shuddering at the sight that was presented right behind you: Chuuya was unbuttoning his white dress shirt carefully, leaving it wide open around his shoulders for your hungry eyes to rank up the expanse of his toned abs and chiselled chest. His leather choker was hugging his viscous neck tightly, making you lick your lips just at the sight of it, a full contrast with his naked midsection. Fuck, he was so hot when he was this stirred up.

“Like what you see?” He snarled at you, not failing to notice how you were almost drooling at the sight of his torso. You had to admit it, he was so full of himself but he had a really good reason to be, he was fucking beautiful.

“Of course I do, I’m just admiring what’s mine.” You grinned back at him, ass pressing harder against his pulsing cock in order to entice him to finally fuck your brains out. You were growing tired of waiting, you needed your release now and he needed his too, judging by how solid and hot he felt against your skin.

“Well, that makes the two of us, then.” Chuuya chuckled softly while he draped himself over your body once again, his hard chest flushed against you back as he kissed and bit down onto your right shoulder harshly; you bit your bottom lip, trying your best to suppress your whimpers and moans while his rough hips were slowly and subconsciously humping against you from behind.

You lifted your ass a bit more, forced by the strong hold of his hands on your tiny waist. Chuuya grunted loudly, the feeling of his cock colliding repetitively against your cunt was making him go fucking insane: with one hand he unfastened the buttons and the zipper of his pants and shoved them down together with his black boxer briefs, just enough to pull himself out of those damned clothes with a satisfied groan. He felt you stiffen at the mere sound of his zipper going down, but decided to immediately nestle his twitching cock between your slick folds instead of teasing you about it. He himself couldn’t wait any longer and he finally started rubbing himself slowly against your warmth, without the rough material of his pants separating the two of you. The velvety, leaky tip of his dick was pressing against your bundle of nerves with each and every thrust, driving you completely mad.

Chuuya positioned himself back behind you: with one hand he was keeping your hip pressed still against his lower half, while the other one grabbed behind your neck and pushed your face down into the mattress. His dominance clearly turned you on, he was well aware of that; he knew how much you liked it when he was rough and cold with you, it never failed to stir you up no matter how tired the both of you were. You were such a good girl for him, always obeying him and granting every request without ever complaining about anything… How did he get so lucky? Someone like him surely wasn’t worthy of your love, he was positive you deserved better than him but that didn’t stop him from showing you how much he loved you and cared for you. His heart belonged to you and you only, just like his body and mind did.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” He sighed between gritted teeth, slowly pushing himself inside your wet warmth. No matter how cold and detached he wanted to be, Chuuya would always put you and your pleasure first. The urgent need to plunge his cock balls deep inside your twitching walls was maddening to him, but he knew he needed to be gentle and consider the fact that he had already ruined you the day before.

Your reply was a hurried nod of your head, your hands were already clenching the silky fabric of the bedsheets underneath you; the feeling of his raw girth stretching you so deliciously was making it harder for you to breathe and stifle your moans, he was so big inside you and you were so sensitive that you could feel each and every pulsing vein grazing the ridges of your bruised walls. He entered you slowly, making sure you were able to adjust to every inch of his cock as he stretched you out once again: it stung a little, but that only added to the pleasurable sensation of finally being able to become one with him once again. His hips stilled just as he reached your hilt, buried balls deep in the warm embrace of your sopping cunt.

“Fuck… Chuuya… S-so big.” You hiccuped, completely lost to the feeling of being filled by his throbbing length once again. You silently thanked him for being so sweet and considerate of your current state, you honestly thought you’d rip in half if he suddenly decided to fuck you hard and rough like he did the previous day. You hugged his pillow once again, hiding your face and stifling your cries into it as he started pushing his painfully hard cock in and out of you, slowly. He was testing the waters, trying to understand how deep you were able to let him go.

Chuuya was on cloud nine. He’d been waiting all day for this, your tight pussy was wrapping around his shaft oh so perfectly, greedily swallowing him all up… It was totally worth the wait. He knew he wouldn’t last long like this, he was so worked up already that he needed to make sure you’d be able to reach your high as soon as possible: he would never allow himself to cum before you, not when he was the one who selfishly woke you up from a peaceful nap just to relieve the itch of his loins. He bit his bottom lip harshly, a roar rumbling deep in his chest as he observed you struggle to keep quiet underneath him while hugging his pillow tightly; he wanted to be gentle, he was really trying his best not to hurt you: he retracted his hips slowly, leaving only the leaking head of his cock inside of you, but after a couple of seconds the urge of crashing his whole length back inside was just too sweet for him to pass up. With a quick snap of his hips he stretched you out abruptly once again, making you scream at the force of the pace he was now establishing. Chuuya started fucking you hard and deep, that position was allowing him to reach your soft spot with each thrust, his large tip battered against your sensitive insides with ease.

You muffled another loud cry by biting down into his pillow when you felt his skilled fingers reaching down between your legs, the rough pads circling and pinching your clit once again, but this time he made sure to synch the rhythm of his thrusts and fingers, leaving you breathless and sobbing under the weight of his body.

“Are you close? Tell me how it feels. Let me hear you cry for me, come on.” His warm breath was fanning against your ear as he whispered those words to you so sinfully. You knew he hated when you hid your moans from him, they really turned him on and he needed to hear them loud and clear. The unforgiving pace of his hips and fingers never faltered, and you felt warm tears running down your cheeks at the intensity of his large cock pistoning into you mercilessly.

“Yes! Please baby… Make me cum, I’m so close Chuuya… Fuck!” You hiccuped and moaned loudly, feeling his fingertips quicken their pace over your clit, the familiar bubble in your lower belly threatening to burst with each snap of his hips. He was buried so fucking deep into your cunt, his tight balls slapped against your ass loudly as he started battering your cervix.

“Fuck, Y/N… Am going to fill you up so fucking nicely…” Chuuya groaned loudly, the feeling of your pussy clenching slightly onto him was a clear signal that you were close. He was glad, since he was about to burst and spill himself inside of you any moment now. He grinned lowly and started rubbing you fiercely, the promise of being gentle completely forgotten and thrown out of the window.

It took only a couple more of those harsh thrusts for you to come undone with a strangled moan: your hips gave out on you, but he was quick to grab you and keep you still as he continued to fuck you mercilessly through your orgasm, making you twitch and spasm from oversensitivity. You cried, eyes rolling back as your hands closed around his wrist, a silent request for him to slow down, but Chuuya was chasing his high like a fucking beast: he was groaning loudly, a thin layer of sweat covering his golden skin and his hooded eyes were focusing down where your bodies connected, the sight of your tight cunt clenching and swallowing him deep in order to milk him of all his worth was enough for him to finally let go and cum inside you.

He cummed hard, throwing his head back at the feeling of his balls tightening as he released his gift inside of you with thick spurts, his cock twitched and coated your insides with his seed. He cummed a lot, his orgasm was prolonged by the feeling of you cumming almost at the same time he did. You shuddered underneath him, the feeling of his hot seed filling you up to the brim made you moan softly as he pushed it all inside greedily, not a single drop of it needed to escape and be wasted.

Chuuya savoured his climax for a while, the blissful afterglow of sex lingered on his face as he smiled with closed eyes, his brows knitted and mouth agape, humming his satisfaction. He was still thrusting his cock inside of you slowly, his forehead was now resting against your shoulder while he hugged you tightly, with a peaceful and grateful smile on his lips. The both of you were still panting slightly from the whole ordeal, extremely tired and sleepy, but nothing compared to the satisfaction of feeling so close and so complete against each other. You felt Chuuya leave a couple of wet kisses down your back before pulling out completely from your sensitive warmth; you moaned softly at the feeling of emptiness that followed, but mainly at the feeling of your fluids mixing with his and spilling down your thighs.

“I hate to see it leave you…” Chuuya exhaled with a tired sigh, and you really didn’t understand if he was referring to his cock or his cum. Knowing him, he probably meant both. You could feel his burning gaze fixed down on you, examining his handy work proudly: he could see his cum plunged deep within you and spilling down your thighs and on the bedsheets, your clenching walls still trying to find him and your trembling legs threatening to give up on you at any moment. You were a good girl, and you knew he found an immense amount of pleasure in admiring his work and how ruined you looked because of him, so he knew you wouldn’t rest until he gave you his permission.

You gasped softly at the sudden feeling of one of his calloused fingers collecting the cum that had overflowed on your thighs and slowly pushing it back inside of your sensitive cunt. Chuuya was a sucker for cum play, it had been clear right from the beginning of your relationship: he loved filling you up nicely and absolutely despised the idea of cumming somewhere that was not inside of your pussy or deep down your throat. Well, that was a completely different story when he was drunk, because drunk sex with Chuuya was absolutely freaky and he would cum everywhere on you, just to mark you up as his. He was now swirling his digit inside of you, mixing your fluids together and stirring it nicely, without letting any of it spill out.

“Chuuya…” You whimpered as your legs trembled even more, too tired and exhausted to even think about the possibility of another round with him right now. The mere sound of your weak voice made his hooded eyes connect with yours immediately, even if they were so fixed and focused in his own little world just moments before. He grinned at you, pulling his now coated finger out of you and bringing it directly to his lips, licking it greedily and savouring the taste of your love with a low hum rumbling in his chest. Not satisfied, he offered you his finger just so you could finish cleaning it up for him, swirling your soft tongue around it and licking all your mixed juices away for him.

“Good girl. I love you so fucking much. I’m sorry, I was too rough with you today too.” He smiled at you softly, finally removing himself from behind you and cuddling next to you, hugging you close to his chest.

“I love you too. So much… Don’t worry about it, you’ll make up for it by changing the sheets.” You kissed him jokingly on the tip of his nose, getting up from the bed and away from his tight embrace. You honestly needed a shower now.

“What? Where do yo think you are going now?!” He half screamed at your actions, too focused on cuddling and too sleepy to change the bedsheets now.

“I need a shower and the bed needs some cleaning. But if you’re quick you can join me in the tub later, what do you say?” You smiled softly at him, reaching the bathroom door and closing it behind you, leaving him no room to talk back.

Chuuya sighed, completely enamoured with you. He loved you so fucking much, he would gladly change all the bedsheets in the world if that meant he’d be able to cuddle next to you for the entirety of your lives.

#Nakahara Chuuya #Chuuya #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs smut #chuuya smut #Nakahara Chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader #Nakahara Chuuya smut #bsd chuuya #bsd smut #i'm sorry #pwp

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] Victor’s Exhibition Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

NOTE: @redqueen-hypothesis did the translation for this! All I did was proofread and format! It’s on my blog because Red says so and I have to comply :<

[ This date was released in CN on 7 December 2020 ]

MC: According to the map, it should be… right ahead!

Victor: ...you don’t need to look at the map. Just watch where you’re going.

Victor: Turn at this corner and we’ll be there. There’s no need to keep looking at your phone.

A few days ago, when I was agonising over what television program to produce for the theme ‘Heart’s Whisper While Going into the New Year’, a notification about an exhibition popped up on my phone.

The exhibition hall next to New Light Mall was going to hold a ‘Speak Up’ exhibition. I saw a few recommendations for the exhibit, and thought that it was meaningful, and also felt that it was in line with the New Year atmosphere.

Since the opportunity presented itself, I quickly booked Victor’s Sunday afternoon.

MC: CEO Victor’s rare time off has been taken over by me to do overtime - do you have any complaints?

After hearing what I’ve said, Victor raises an eyebrow, a slight laugh escaping him.

Victor: What if I do?

MC: If that’s the case…

MC: Since I don’t think I could afford your overtime wages, how about I treat you to a cup of coffee later? I’ll look for the nearest cafe in the area…

When I lower my head to look at my phone, searching for a list of cafes in the vicinity, Victor lets out a sigh and grabs my hand, pulling me to turn a right at the corner.

MC: Ahh, the nearest cafe is located right outside the exhibition hall!

MC: Online reviews say that their croissants taste good. From the pictures they’ve posted… it seems to be true.

Victor: And here I was, thinking that you’d really come with the intention of figuring out the plan for your television program.

MC: I do intend to! But right now, I’m missing the… spark of inspiration.

MC: If the afternoon turns out to be fruitless, I’ll simply treat it as a day out! It’s not too bad.

MC: Besides, don’t you think the two of us have very few opportunities to look at these sorts of exhibitions together?

Victor: … yes, it’s my fault for being too busy.

MC: That’s not true. You already take out so much time to accompany me, and I always drag you to all sorts of noisy places.

MC: It’s time to let art nurture my soul, and help me attain a gentler disposition.

Victor’s hand, which had been holding mine earlier, slides down my palm, warm fingertips stroking the back of my hand gently, before lacing his fingers with mine.

Victor: Then, let’s go.

Cafe owner: So the both of you haven’t planned the overall route to view the exhibition?

The cafe is located right at the entrance. After securing the tickets to the exhibition, I pull Victor to the cafe first.

However, today’s exhibition hall seems a little deserted, and the cafe has very few customers.

The bespectacled middle-aged owner seems refined and gentle and is a good host. Before long, he’s already started a conversation with the two of us.

MC: Is the exhibition very big?

Cafe owner: There are three floors in total. If you browse every exhibit once, it should take quite a while.

Cafe owner: This is why many visitors choose a single floor to focus their attention on, and give less time to the other two.

When Victor takes his coffee, he nods politely at the cafe owner.

Victor: Do you have any recommendations?

Cafe owner: Haha, if you’re talking about recommendations, I’d suggest the second floor. It’s most popular with visitors, since the main theme of the floor is ‘Love’.

As the cafe owner says this, he places both hands on the bar counter and chuckles at the two of us.

Cafe owner: Stories on the second floor and those related to the exhibits are real. So instead of saying that you’re looking at the exhibits, it’s more of you looking at authentic stories.

I steal a glance at Victor.

Victor: It’s your choice.

MC: Then let’s go to the second floor first!

MC: Coincidentally, most of the exhibits I’m interested in happen to be on the second floor as well.

Happily, I pick up my latte and tuck the exhibition brochure into my bag, determined to explore the second floor.

Victor is one step ahead of me and pushes open the door of the cafe for both of us, giving the cafe owner a slight nod before we leave.

When I turn back to look behind me, he has already taken my hand, pulling me towards the second floor.

After stepping up the last flight of stairs, the large exhibition hall appears before my eyes.

It’s not at all like what I had expected. There aren’t any mundane objects put on display here such as handwritten letters or small gifts. Instead, these are real pieces of artwork.

All sorts of beautiful sculptures, paintings, and musical instruments have been set up. Even the lighting is so beautiful that if I were to use exquisite words to praise it, it would still sound modest.

MC: It really is an art exhibition…

Victor: There are a few works from some of the best artists of their time. You should be careful not to miss any of them.

Even though the silence in this large exhibition hall is only broken by the sound of our footsteps, one lighter and one heavier, the interior decor of the exhibit is very cozy, lacking the coldness that keeps one at bay.

Pure white stone pillars, warm yellow lights, the lack of the usual glass coverings separating exhibits, and every placard for each exhibit seems as though it’s been handwritten by the person who contributed it.

Walking between the exhibits, the feeling I get is one of warmth, and the volume that I had been suppressing since I walked into the exhibition hall steadily grows.

MC: Victor, look at this!

I take out my phone and snap a picture of the oil painting hanging on a wall.

MC: The placard says that the artist’s girlfriend is known as ‘Mouse’. So in every piece of artwork, there’s an adorable mouse subtly hidden somewhere.

After pressing down on the shutter, I look up once again to search the artwork for a little mouse.

MC: Wow, he’s really creative! The mouse in every piece looks completely different!

MC: This chubby little one looks really cute, this one seems really sharp and intelligent… they all suit the theme of each artwork. If you don’t look very carefully, it’s difficult to notice them, and they don’t ruin the art at all.

With a hand stuffed into his pocket, Victor lifts his eyes to stare at these paintings, a look of contemplation surfacing on his face.

Victor: This exhibit is called “Marks”.

MC: Yeah… it’s a title which lets others easily understand what it’s about.

Victor turns around to give me a low chuckle.

Victor: If that’s the case, tell me what you understand from it.

MC: Are you testing me again?

I think about this for a moment, then rush to stop him before he can tell me the answer, shaking my head.

MC: I’ll tell you my answer later! But first, come with me to see another exhibit!

I pull Victor along with me to the walkway, deeper into the exhibition, following my memory of the exhibition brochure I had looked at earlier, and come to a stop in front of several thick diaries.

MC: This exhibit is called ‘Today’s Weather’. It’s the exhibit I wanted to center my program around.

MC: These are the diaries of a woman who wrote down everything about her life for a full ten years. In these diaries, she often mentions “Mr A”, the person she likes very much.

Victor nods, flipping open one of the books silently.

Victor: From what I can see of her personality from her writings, she seems to be quite similar to you.

MC: Do you know what’s written on the last page of her diary? ...‘Congratulations on your marriage’.

MC: The “Mr A” she liked so much rejected her confessions several times, and he later moved overseas, causing them to lose contact with each other. The next time she heard of him, it was an announcement of his marriage, and that’s where her diary stopped.

Victor’s hand pauses in flipping a page, his expression slightly dumbfounded.

Victor: So what was the point of her writing this diary?

I look at the yellowing pages of the diary, and think back to what the brochure had mentioned about it.

MC: There was no reason.

MC: She later said that this was her true life story - a simple and calm one. During these ten years, she studied hard and moved to the city, becoming a person in charge, a manager, and then a director… and never once gave up on herself.

MC: Although the entrance test she took back then was exceptionally difficult, she persevered with the thought that the school was rather close to the high school Mr A had once studied at.

MC: She felt that by attending a school near to his, she could bring their lives closer together.

MC: There were no waves of joy or anguish - only trivial sentiments.

Even though there were some incidents which made her feel sad, from the cute and excitable way she described everything in her diary, she lived rather well despite feeling some regret.

However, after saying so much, Victor doesn’t respond. I walk to his side and tug on his sleeve.

MC: We’ve finished looking at this exhibit. Do you want to leave?

Victor: Since this is the exhibit you wanted to use for your program, shouldn’t you take a few more photos before leaving?

MC: I planned to, but I thought you might find it pointless.

Under his questioning gaze, I answer honestly.

MC: I’m sure in CEO Victor’s mind, there are many more important things going on every day… you wouldn’t be interested in trivial things such as romantic sentiments. And even then, you’d be able to understand them easily.

Victor gives a small laugh.

Victor: If I weren’t interested in such things, why would I be accompanying you here over the weekend?

He glances back at the diaries, his expression one of deep contemplation.

Victor: In truth, the same emotions can be felt by different people. I can understand her feelings.

I never thought Victor would answer in such a manner.

MC: Do you think that it was a waste of her time to write these diaries?

Victor: No.

Victor’s gaze rests on a page.

Victor: The writer wrote it down herself - “The time I spent loving someone, not a single second of it was wasted.”

I rarely hear such words leave Victor’s mouth, and it makes me feel a little surreal. In my memory, we very rarely talk about the topic of ‘love’. Maybe it’s because he rarely says what’s in his heart. Maybe it’s because I’m used to being thick-skinned. We never have the opportunity to seriously understand the meaning in these words.

When he looks at these exhibits, do we feel the same emotions?

I contemplate this for a moment, before looking at him once more.

Victor: What do you want to say?

MC: I was thinking about what you asked me earlier.

I take two steps towards him. Even though the distance between us is small, he doesn’t step backwards. Instead, he simply turns towards me.

MC: I think a love like this is very interesting. You meet a person and feel such emotions.

MC: From that day onwards, you’re never the same person again, and are completely changed. Like some sort of… mark.

MC: It’s a sort of mark that can be left in literature or in a photograph… and I can feel it.

Victor’s eyes are lowered. In his clear and tranquil eyes, there are ripples of light and shadows.

Victor: Such as?

The smile tugging at the corner of his mouth is clear, and I ponder this seriously.

MC: For example, the way I write proposals has changed.

MC: The format of my proposals has changed. The indent of the first line, font size 15, 1.5 spacing between lines... it’s the format you find most pleasing to the eye!

Victor’s eyebrow quirks.

Victor: That’s all?

MC: There’s more! I’ve become so much more picky with food. I never used to complain that food tastes bad, but eating at Souvenir has cultivated my palate. Now, when I eat even Michelin meals, I feel as if something’s lacking…

Victor smiles slightly and shakes his head, taking my hand.

Victor: Come with me.

In the innermost room of the exhibition floor on the second floor is a display board. On it depicts the entire process of how the exhibition first began and how it expanded.

Above all the pictures of the people who’ve helped to plan this exhibition…

MC: It’s the cafe owner from earlier!

Victor: You made preparations before coming here, yet couldn’t recognise him?

MC: I was saying that he seemed very familiar!

MC: If that’s the case… the story of this exhibition - it should be his, isn’t it?

He fell in love with a girl’s literature and art secretly in his youth, yet didn’t know how to confess, and much time passed without progress. When he finally mustered up his courage to confess, the girl passed away from cancer.

Those are all the words written on a whiteboard, and they seem a little simple and stereotypical. But when I think about how a person experienced this, my heart can’t help but feel sad for him.

Victor: That’s why the name of this exhibition is ‘Speak Up’. The existence of these marks is how these feelings are being conveyed.

MC: No matter whether it’s from a tiny mouse hidden in each artwork, the longing written down in a diary, or a sculpture carved in the image of their lover - all of them bear their own longing in some way. Even this exhibition is a voice for the cafe owner to speak up about his past regrets.

All these fragments come together in my mind, moving my heart.

MC: Victor, even though this is a little old-fashioned… if I want to make a program about entering the New Year and about this ‘Speak Up’ exhibition, will you reject my proposal?

Victor’s gaze sweeps over me, his brows smoothening.

Victor: I’ll decide after I see the quality of the proposal.

After we finish viewing the exhibition, cold rain and freezing wind come the moment we step out of the exhibition hall. It was so sunny earlier… Why is it raining all of a sudden?

Victor: I’ll get Goldman to pick us up.

MC: Huh? That’s not needed-

I pull out the tickets for the exhibition in my bag.

MC: I remember that the complimentary gift with this exhibition is an umbrella! All we need to do is exchange the tickets at the counter.

Victor casually takes the tickets from my hand.

Victor: Wait here for me.

MC: Alright.

While waiting, I glance over at the cafe and happen to see the cafe owner closing up his cafe for the day. He turns the sign from OPEN to CLOSE, before locking the door and dropping the key into his pocket.

This seems to be his usual, everyday life.

He notices my gaze on him and gives me a quick wave in greeting, before heading into the exhibition hall.

This world has many people who can’t say what is most important to them… but I’m different.

When I snap out of my thoughts, Victor is already heading back to me, umbrella in hand. In the dark and gloomy night, the lights of the street lamps flicker, silhouetting him in light and shadow as he walks slowly towards me.

I see tiny droplets of water clinging to his hair, the hazy light shining in his eyes.

The marks that I have must be conveyed in the most direct way.

MC: Victor, do you hear the music being played in the exhibition hall?

Victor doesn’t catch the underlying meaning in my tone, and instead begins to explain it to me.

Victor: It’s to alert the people in the exhibition hall that it’s about to close.

I can’t help but give him another hint.

MC: That’s all you thought about? You don’t find the music somewhat familiar?

Victor falls silent, his brow furrowed, as if he’s really thinking hard about this.

Not giving him a second more to think, I run ahead of him with small steps, wearing a smile as I turn back to extend my hand to him.

MC: Would this gentleman honour me with a dance?

Victor’s eyes widen slightly.

MC: The first time you taught me dancing was to this song.

The world around us is silent, and all I can hear is the wild beating of my own heart, pounding with anticipation.

MC: This is how you’ve given me marks of my own… and changed me.

Warm fingers brush my palm. Before I can register what’s happening, he’s already pulled me into his embrace. Along with the violin’s melody, I move my feet to dance with Victor, and the two of us turn in a circle fluidly. Even though night is quickly falling, everything before me is filled with shining light.

Joy blooms in my heart with a thump, like a resplendent firework soaring into the night sky, exchanging greetings with the sky full of starlight.

There are no words to describe the happiness I feel in this moment.

MC: What about you?

Victor: Me?

MC: Don’t you have anything to say to me? After this afternoon of visiting the exhibition, I thought it would have left some sort of impression on you.

Victor pauses in his footsteps, holding me a little tighter. The light and hurried rain droplets are blown over by the gentle wind. He tilts the umbrella, blocking the drizzle completely.

Victor: Dummy.

Raindrops patter down on the umbrella, paired with the sound of his low voice; it’s as if all surrounding noises have faded away to nothing, and he’s the only one who exists in the world.

Victor: Because a certain greedy cat always says she wants to eat something sweet after dinner, I made pudding before leaving the house.

Victor: Do you think this is a mark of how I’ve been changed?

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc victor

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years ago

Text

He Loves Love (3/3)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: solo singer! AU

Word count: 4K+

Warnings: none! just a playful Baek!

--- Please make sure to read the the notes at the end! ---

Masterlist

tags: @iloveagain @buttercupbbh @wooya1224 @baekberrie (sorry if I left out someone? its been ages since i updated and I didnt know if its okay to tag those who commented on chap. 2 :( didnt want to be rude ><)

1 <<< 2 <<< 3

It was the day of the release. The release of his magazine cover.

The PR went… mad.

“Listen, sweetie, editor, I don't think we will have enough pieces. The damn thing is literally going to be sold out in a matter of hours.”

You received this call before lunch time. Lunch time was very early on in the day. So why was Baekhyun's magazine cover about to be sold out in the entirety of Korea on the same day of the release date?

“Erm, yeah about that. I am an editor, just like you said. You need to call the-”

“I know, I know,” she interrupted but there wasn't an inch of impatience in her voice. “What I am trying to say is - congratulations! You did a great job!”

It took you a moment to realize what she was saying, because she was right. Your participation in this issue was big; after all you took care of the props and settings and you were looking over his pictures during the photoshoot. Out of nowhere, your heartbeat sped up. “Oh, thank you! That's very kind of you, but I still need to improve a lot-”

In that moment, the happy ding! that never failed to make you all trembly and nervous, sounded on your desk.

Waiter: miss editor am I seeing correctly????? wowow ihavenowords

Waiter: did you just make me sell out your magazine?????? ihavenowords

Waiter: did you save yourself at least one piece??? huhuuhuhuuu ihavenowords ><

Waiter: i think someone just made themselves a good name in the mag industry ^^ congratulations!!!

Waiter: does that mean i will get to see you? hmmm maybe to give a congratulatory bouquet of flowers???? 🤭🤭🤭 🌹💐🌺

Biting your lip quickly to suppress the happy grin, you quickly attended to the phone call, chatting a bit more with the PR lady. Honestly, you didn't like to talk to them much as they were all over the place, too demanding and didn’t have a great understanding of a creative mind. Thankfully, you didn't have to deal with them too often.

It hadn't been that long since your last meeting with Baekhyun. His kisses on your cheek and one kiss on your forehead seemed to be still burning on your skin, sometimes making you drag the pad of your index finger over the mentioned places, needing some sort of closure from him that you had yet to receive.

Texting now was a full on habit between you, causing you to become sad, disappointed and even anxious if he wouldn’t reply that soon, worried he changed his mind about you, and his feelings towards you. Because even though you admitted to him that you liked him, he was being still very cautious, still very polite with you, as if there was some sort of invisible line between you two that he was scared to cross, for some reason.

Trying to look at it from his point of view, there were many risks of him wanting a relationship with you, and you couldn't not agree. If anything, you were being thankful for his thoughtfulness and carefulness, for if he messed up even the tiniest bit around you and your secret meetings of a blooming start of a relationship, he would not see the end of the hate, and neither would you. Heck, his career was on the line.

You managed to reply to his playful messages that went on and on, before you would have to dive into another cover magazine plan that you had to start thinking through.

Me: I think I should congratulate YOU! the most wanted man in Korea it seems ;)

Me: these days i have some important meetings… an upcoming cover… im definitely doing overtime today :( when is it good for you? I will try to arrange my schedule with yours

Waiter: ohoh the most wanted man you say? i wonder if the one i want wants me just as much…….???

Waiter: i would like to see you more often before my album drops, you know i will get quite busy and not seeing you for too long doesnt seem to work well with me anymore ><

Waiter: sooo… i will come pick you up from work tonight just shoot me a msg *^

Just as his messages could make your heartbeat go into a crazy overdrive, it seemed he could also make it completely stop. Or so you thought. His flirting and now his proposal to pick you up gave you a huge shock. That would be a first for sure.

Me: sure! have your phone with you Mr Korea

Me: I wonder too if that person wants you as much ;)

You decided not to pay him any more attention after that as much as you were tempted. Your belly was levitating along with your body, feeling high on vitamin Baekhyun. Pressing down the urge to tease him, you put your phone away, your hands slightly trembly from the attention you kept receiving from someone like him.

If your predictions were even close to correct, you wanted to tell him: yes, the one that he wanted, wanted him just as much.

…

You were fast to leave your work that day. Excited butterflies were eating your insides away, and the only way to make them calm down was to finally meet the person who always made their wings flutter.

Baekhyun was already parked in the underground parking lot, his car the only one with the motor on - and the only car of his class. You spotted him sitting in his car in his white jersey shirt, his left elbow propped on the windowsill as his index finger was stuck between his teeth, gnawing at it. When he saw you, he took a double-take and quickly changed his posture which made you giggle.

Baekhyun was following you with his eyes, going even to the length of leaning in over the passenger seat so as not to lose sight of you until he reached over and opened the passenger door for you so you could slide in.

“Why, thank you,” you smiled cheerfully as you sat down. You closed the door and put your bag down in between your legs.

“My pleasure,” he said back with a pleasant smile. “Hand me the bag, I'll put it in the backseat.”

You quickly did as he asked and then reached for your seatbelt.

“How was work today? We should celebrate!” he exclaimed as he put the car into drive and made his way out of the parking lot.

You hummed, gnawing on your lip. “That would be wonderful,” you said but hesitated about offering anything further. It was difficult to read the situation; you wouldn't know what you could afford to do with him and what not; what would be stepping over the line and what wouldn't. But Baekhyun said he liked you. In fact, he even told you to look at him like at any other man. That meant you shouldn't doubt all the possible hang-out ideas you had, right?

“I think it is you who deserves a gift,” you murmured and stole a look at his concentrated face. You reached the outside now, the dark evening slowly changing into night, the light of passing cars illuminating your faces.

“Hmm, I think so, too. Something in lines of - I can pick whatever I want, huh?”

Hiding your smile behind your hand, you nodded. “Yes, I can grant something. But don't make it expensive. Even though you sold out our magazine, it doesn't mean I will get a pay rise right away.”

“Oh, it won't include any monetary value,” he promised and turned to look at you when he stopped at the red light, the line in front of you seemingly going on for at least a mile. “It would be something you can and should be able to do freely.”

Despite the darkness of the car, Baekhyun could still spot that gorgeous, astounding blush colouring your cheeks. He really grew to love it; to make you so flustered you couldn't help but grow all red, just for him. “What do you think?” he asked quietly, still observing you with a small lopsided smile.

First you looked at your connected hands in your lap and then looked up at him through your lashes. “Depends what it is, but I owe you, so…” you trailed off.

He chuckled quietly, causing your heart to skip a beat before he started driving again, the line in front slowly moving. “Wonderful.”

Within forty-five minutes, you found yourself seated in a Korean restaurant, both yours and Baekhyun's shoes left at the entrance. Baekhyun, knowing the owner, asked for a separate room where people usually held business dinners, to ensure you would have full privacy and could enjoy each other.

It was a bit mind-blowing how much he could just do. His authority was admirable but at the same time it reminded you how you could hardly compare. If you would have asked the owner to give you a separate room, you might have had to fight for it or give him some money. Baekhyun seemed to walk in like a prince, confidently talking to people as if it was so natural.

“Can you give me a moment?” he asked suddenly, already standing up. “I forgot something in the car. Choose a meal until then.”

You nodded and saw him shuffling towards the door. Quickly going through the menu, you were thankful it was just an ordinary Korean restaurant that specializes in noodle soups and wasn't pricey. Picking the one that seemed the most special, you put the menu away just in time for Baekhyun to return back. His right hand was behind his back, obviously hiding something.

He had a sheepish smile on his face as he stepped towards you and handed you a beautiful bouquet of colourful flowers, the smell of which instantly hit your nose. You felt your mouth stretch into a wide smile as you stood up to your feet.

“Oh my god, what is this for, Baekhyun?” you asked, looking up into his eyes just to find them sparkling with anticipation.

“I know I never asked you out on an official date, so I might not be dressed up to my best potential, but I really wanted to give you something and today, as I said, I wanted to give you a bouquet. Please, accept it,” he added breathily, watching you with bated breath, nudging the flowers out to you.

You giggled and he smiled right away as you took the bouquet in your hand, careful as to not hold his fingers that were still curled around the stems. “Thank you.”

As you wanted to pull back, he leaned in, grabbing your wrist gently that was holding the flowers, bringing you closer. His lips hovered over your cheek and he eventually pressed them there. “Good job on your first cover,” he murmured and leaned away the slightest to watch your surprised reaction. Your eyes were watching his mouth and he had to restrain himself from going any further. He didn't want to cross the line. Not yet.

Unfortunately, you had to separate when the doors opened and the waiter came in. She was taken aback for the slightest of moments when she noticed you and Baekhyun backing away from each other but both of you recovered quickly and sat down, ready to order.

“This Vietnamese noodle soup is my favourite,” mentioned Baekhyun, looking at you. “So that is your gift to me - eating my favorite food with me.”

…

It was late June, the beginning of the most humid weeks of the year with the monsoon season around the corner.

Baekhyun became so busy with the release of his album back in May, that you rarely got to see him afterwards, although he made sure to see you a couple of times per week even if he was on the verge of falling asleep. Besides meeting, you were always chatting on the phone, him updating you about his daily schedules while you would mostly talk and send pictures about the same old stuff - your office, your computer screen or your late lunch. Or a selfie. You were on that basis now, despite a first kiss never happening.

It made you think sometimes if you were the one who was supposed to make the first move. If you grew eager to finally feel him in that way, then he must have also had some similar feelings, right? You had been dying to kiss him since the first time he said he liked you. And it was late June now.

Late June meant that the music awards show was happening just this particular night. Baekhyun had been texting you eager messages to double-check that you would really be attending like you told him you would.

While you quickly looked yourself over in the mirror in your office - you worked even today, a Saturday - you checked your phone's screen, seeing the previews of his messages.

Waiter: finally our schedules overlap ❤️ Waiter: i cant actually believe it Waiter: huhuhuhu missy are you done with preparing? im curious to see.... Waiter: its just that it would be difficult to do so without it…

Hastily checking your earrings, you read the previews with a large smile. It would be an exciting night.

When you arrived at the event along with your colleagues, you couldn't help feeling clammy from the excitement. The possibility of spotting Baekhyun was making you sick with anticipation. It wasn't even the amount of people attending the event, it was just him; just the idea that he was somewhere there and hopefully he was looking for you just like you were looking for him.

Your colleagues hurried to sit down as the ceremony was about to start. Since you were busy in the office, you ended up leaving the headquarters much later than planned, but there was nothing you could do about it anymore.

The lights dimmed just when you made yourself comfortable, making it too difficult to look around and recognize faces. Deciding to quickly check the messages you didn't have time to look at before, you finally saw what Baekhyun was bombarding you so much about.

Waiter: finally our schedules overlap Waiter: i cant actually believe it Waiter: huhuhuhu missy are you done with preparing? im curious to see how you look so you could send me a selfie and so then i can recognize you at the event hm? without having to stare everywhere and become suspicious Waiter: its just that it would be difficult to do so without it sooooo ????? Waiter: yah!! where did you go?? Waiter: ex...excuse me? ehm ehm!!! Waiter: wow okay… Waiter: Y/N … disappeared... Waiter: i guess you are busy >< im arriving at the venue soon update me so i know where you attttttt okiiii??? ㅎㅅㅎ

You hid your smile behind your hand and quickly typed him a message to update him like he demanded. You couldn't send a selfie anymore because of the silly lights and your superiors being at the same table, you couldn't afford to be on your phone all the time. Hyeri, as much as she was kind, didn't like it when the job was not done properly, so you made sure to pay attention to the performances while you felt your phone vibrate with messages most probably from Baekhyun.

You bit your lip to keep in the smile, your heart fluttering. How was he able to be this… gorgeous even through messages? How was he able to make your heart beat frantically even when he was not around you? Unknowingly, your desire for him grew by tenfold, the sudden urge to meet him almost overtaking your actions, but one strict stare from Hyeri and you stopped squirming in your chair as you realized you did with a horrified look. Wow. You had to do something about this, and it had to be very soon.

To your big misfortune, you never spotted Baekhyun until it was his turn to overtake the stage. As much as you expected something huge, it was anything but that. No props, just a simple mic stand and then, a Baekhyun in a ready-to-go-for-a-date look, plus four dancers and he was able to fill the huge stage to the brim with his presence. That was it. Simple as that.

You inhaled his entire performance, the loud screamings of crazy fans not enough to pull you out of your reverie that consisted of Byun Baekhyun and Byun Baekhyun only. His movements, so sharp yet so smooth, his flirting with the camera, his lip bites, and that crazy happy smile; all of it. He was changing images from lethal sexy, through lazily suggestive, then sweetly gorgeous until becoming cute and ready to pet on the head. Without anything more to add, he had each flavor of a candy to offer and you had never been this addicted to candies in your life.

...

You met him accidentally when you were leaving the toilets that were meant for the VIPs. Closing the door behind you, you felt its cold surface press to your bare back when Baekyun appeared in front of you, freezing momentarily when he recognized you.

He smiled instantly, happy to finally see you, before he let his eyes wander. Finally, he let you know that he was looking. Oh he was. Your dress was revealing on the back, which he had yet to witness, but the front was completely covered, hugging your chest and waist, telling Baekhyun that there was something to look at for sure. The long, wavy skirt that stopped just above the floor was bunched up in your hand, showing sparkly high-heeled shoes that were the cause of the pain in your ankles.

None of you said a word as you took a note of his fancy suit, the simple stage outfit now gone. It was fully black, but once again you couldn't comprehend how broad his shoulders and chest were despite his shirt that was tucked into his pants being black, too.

“Good performance,” you broke the silence finally, meeting his somewhat eager gaze. “I have to admit, I was swooning with the other girls, too.”

That got Baekhyun's attention. His eyebrow rose in question and he stepped closer but not before making sure there were no prying eyes in the small corridor. His body covered yours from anyone, were you to be disturbed. “Oh, were you, really?”

You nodded, your smile teasing. “Yeah.”

He smiled gently, his gaze running over your features that were touched up with make-up. “I'm glad. If I wanted to impress someone, it was you.”

“You did that a long time ago,” you admitted shyly, averting your eyes so he wouldn't catch you shyness.

You heard him letting out a laugh through his nose. “So cute,” he muttered, stepping even closer. “I have to run back but let me drive you home tonight.”

His words made your head snap up though you weren't that much smaller from him anymore thanks to the heels. His words ignited something inside of you. “You came with your car?”

“I asked my friend to bring it over to the venue,” he said. “I am not going back to my company after this. I finally found you here and-” he sighed softly, shaking his head as he looked at you, “I want to spend some time with you. Alone.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, his look making you all itchy and needy. Without much thinking, you found yourself nodding a tad too eagerly which made Baekhyun smile. “Alright,” you whispered, “text me. But I can't leave before my superiors do.”

“Can I just steal you?”

Giggling, you shook your head and suppressed the need to hold his hand. “I'm afraid no. But I will try my best to get out of it quickly.”

His smile was so gentle as he nodded slowly, closing his eyes for a second before stepping even closer, his fingertips running over your clothed forearm in the most feather-like way. “Okay. I'll be waiting for you,” sweetheart.

…

The car came to a complete stop in front of your small apartment building. Audi had quite the silent engine anyway, but now with it being turned off, you felt like silence had a physical form and was growing in on you, making the tension between you and Baekhyun the more difficult to withstand.

Given his silence, you knew that you should say something, and you also knew what you were supposed to do. It was now or never. “Would you maybe… like to come in?”

He glanced over, checking your expression to see if you were serious. He parted his lips but hesitation stole the words away from him. You chuckled when he opened his mouth again and smiled abashedly. “'I’d love to.”

Oh my god, you thought as the both of you made your way towards your apartment. In panic, you tried to quickly think over what state you left your flat in exactly, but it seemed that your mind was clogged up, unable to come up with anything that could possibly explain what was happening in that very moment. Byun Baekhyun, the superstar, was coming inside your apartment. And he seemed to be rather quiet.

Was he overthinking this? Maybe he would realise this was all a mistake and that you weren't good enough for him. Maybe you did something off-putting today?

As you were typing in the code to your house, you felt his strong presence behind you, his gaze on your naked back, and you swore the tension just grew even more when you let him enter your little safety den first. Surely, it was no luxury like he must have been used to by then, given the many years of singing career, but you could only hope it would be enough.

You had been far too gone for him. If he were to dump you, you might end up hurt and heartbroken.

Letting the door close behind you, you wanted to follow him only to see him standing just a couple of steps ahead of you, looking into the apartment but not moving further inside. “You can enter, Baekyhun.”

“You look so beautiful tonight,” he said softly out of nowhere, catching you off guard with his honest words. Letting them sink in, you bit your lip, feeling your heartbeat accelerate again. It wasn't possible to get a heart attack, right?

He was standing in front of you while your back was pressed to the front door you just closed behind you. “Thank you,” you whispered, matching his intimate tone and feeling like you were about to combust. “You look really handsome tonight.” And everyday.

He smiled, which you couldn't see as he still had his back on you. Just then, he turned and with that pleasant expression on his face made those separating two steps towards you until he stood right in front of you, causing you to look up. “Thank you.”

You nodded, feeling the terrible blush creeping up into your cheeks. Actually your entire body was suddenly on a heat wave, feeling the prickles of sweat to form under your dress as he stared at you affectionately. God, you wanted him so much it was really becoming unbearable.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You just asked one,” you replied mischievously, grinning, just to be rewarded with a wide smile from him as he stepped even closer, your heart clenching painfully. Was it the chemistry that was so painful?

“Cheeky,” he whispered, his breath almost hitting your cheek. You kept his eye contact before you nudged him with a go on.

What, do you want to kiss me on the cheek again? you desperately wanted to ask, to tease him. Or would this finally be it? Would he finally just... kiss you?

“May I kiss you, sweetheart. On the lips.” His intonation was far from that of a question. He was so hot, goodness. And your knees were suddenly jelly-like as you couldn’t stop staring into his eyes when you nodded.

He let out a breathy laugh when he almost pressed his body into yours. Almost. “You don’t like to confirm things out loud with me, do you, beauty?”

“Yes, you may kiss me, Baekhyun. Please, just finally kiss me.”

It was almost as if he wouldn't wait for your approval anyway, as he was leaning in before your words even left your mouth, his hands coming to gently rest against the door; caging you in, yet making you feel even more safe. He was carefully watching your features as he pressed his lips to yours, one hand coming to cradle your face gently before he finally captured your upper lip and you melted.

Closing your eyes, you sighed as you let your hands slide up his toned chest and around his neck when he pressed himself into you just a little bit closer, a very much satisfied hum coming out of his throat that sent shock waves down your body. That deadly hum. It could really do anything to you, it was that attractive to you.

You dared to run your fingers through his hair that had gel in it, but still felt so cutely soft under your touch. You played with his pillows, prolonging the gentle sucking as you dragged his lower lip towards you, feeling the wetness of his mouth. He leaned in as you separated for the slightest of moments, tilting his head to the other side, unconsciously making one step closer so you felt him on your chest and the surface of the door on your back.

Smooch after smooch, you soon realized he was a loud kisser that liked the licking sounds and the responses from you as you breathed out softly while his thumb caressed your blushed cheek.

Another loud smooch, and this time he was the one who dragged your lower lip towards him with his teeth, as he bumped his nose with yours, tilting his head to the opposite side again while both of his hands cradled your face with utmost care.

Eventually, he kissed you one last time, ending it with him pressing his forehead to yours, not opening his eyes just yet. You didn’t either, relishing in the lingering feeling of him around your mouth as his warm pants pushed in through your parted lips. Slowly, he nuzzled your nose and you giggled softly which prompted him to open his eyes to meet yours already on him.

“That was better than I could ever imagine,” he whispered and smiled handsomely.

You blushed even more, if that was possible. “Ditto.”

His eyes widened and he leaned away a bit. “Don’t tell me you fantasized about kissing me?”

You shrugged but didn’t meet his eye. “How could I not? I’m a human, aren’t I? And you know I like to be straightforward.”

He smirked, knowingly nodding to himself. “Oh yeah, right. The straightforward business.”

You chuckled. “You’re too good of a kisser.”

“Only the best for you,” he winked and those words made you feel things. Before you could reply, he blurted: “Can I be your boyfriend?”

Smiling widely, you nodded, feeling absolutely elated. This was really happening. “Yes, you can be my boyfriend, Baekhyun.”

He sweeped you in his arms, bringing you in for another kiss. “That means,” he murmured between the kisses, “that I can kiss you just like that. And I can finally call you sweetheart,” he breathed the nickname before opening his mouth and devouring you, showing how passionate of a kisser he could be.

You never doubted him, of course, but in situations like these, reality was always better than your poor imagination, for your brain could never produce the exceptional feeling of having Byun Baekhyun’s lips on yours, feeling the moisture and his playful tongue, his creativity of teasing you with it astonishing. No. Nothing could ever compare.

There was only one Byun Baekhyun and he was a superstar. Off-limits to almost everyone. But not to you. Not anymore.

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

A/N: And that is the end! This is the final part, so with this, I am also saying goodbye to this story that made my heart flutter a wee bit... ^^ Thank you to whomever sent me support via comments/reblogs, dms, I was glad this story could bring something enjoyable to the table! ❤

--- As you know, these 3 chapters were supposed to be about how our characters met and became a couple. So I hope I delivered well! I know I put the M sign in the beginning way back in May, but while plotting, I realized it wasnt suitable for these 3 parts. It would take me more chapters to write to bring it to that point (hint: if you request it as a standalone oneshot later, I am willing to write it but otherwise it would need more relationship building).

I hope this explains it!

Thank you again!

Please let me know what you thought, it would mean a lot and its free!

CuriousCat Ask box is also open! Or comments!💕

#exowritersnet #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun canon #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun fic #baekhyun drabble #baekhyun au #baekhyun #byun baekhyun #exo fanfiction #exo au #exo canon #exo imagine #exo fluff #mywritings

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Family Matters More

Keanu Reeves x reader. Requested. (A/n- So, because I’m terrible at staying organized, I have all of my requests, but not who they were requested by, so, when I write and post and you aren’t tagged even if you didn’t request on anon, I am very, very sorry, it’s no one’s fault but my own.)

Masterlist

Warnings- Pregnancy, Angst (it’s fine at the end though.)

Dropping the phone to the dark veined, marble kitchen counter, Y/n sighed heavily, raking her nails through her hair. Tears prickled at her eyes, making them glassy and ready to overflow. It had been coming, her entire family knew it, but Y/n still couldn’t believe the news she’d just heard from her mother; her uncle, who she’d grown up extremely close to, had died, from lung cancer. He’d been suffering for almost two years, aggressive chemo had only worked the first time, but when another cluster of tumors had shown up in a follow up PET scan, nothing had worked and her family’s only option had been to make his last days comfortable. Unfortunately, his ‘last days’ had turned out to be thirteen grueling months.

Uncle Kenny had wilted away like flowers at the beginning of winter, growing duller as the days dragged on. The last time Y/n had seen him was months ago, she’d wanted to visit him at the hospice, but collectively, her parents and husband had urged her to keep their interactions restricted to over the phone, not wanting to stress her out too much. It had frustrated her at first, Uncle Kenny was her favorite uncle, always able to put a smile on her face when she was a kid and had taught her so much about the great outdoors while her parents were too busy climbing the corporate ladder to do it themselves. But though it was hard, eventually, Y/n had relented, but only after her uncle had personally requested that she stay away. That had come after she’d told him that she and Keanu were expecting. He loved her, and his unborn grand niece, which was why he couldn't risk something happening to Y/n or the baby because of added stress.

Hanging her head in her hands, Y/n tried to quell the stinging in her eyes, but her efforts were fruitless and before long, hot tears were falling freely, punctuated by soft sobs racking her body. It wasn’t supposed to hurt that much, Y/n knew that it was inevitable, and it should have comforted her that he’d gone in his sleep, but really, it didn’t. If only he hadn’t been such an avid smoker, then maybe he’d still be there, hopefully to teach her daughter the things he’d taught Y/n when she was a kid.

“So, babe I-” Keanu cut himself off as he entered the kitchen. Worry immediately swelling in his chest at the sight of his wife in tears, “Hey,” he cooed, immediately going over to where she sat at the counter, pulling her flush against his chest and smoothing his hands over her hair, “Shh,” he kissed the top of her head, “What’s wrong baby?”

It took a while, Y/n was blubbering so intense that she couldn’t speak, but after about fifteen minutes spent in Keanu’s comforting embrace, she settled enough to form words, “He’s gone Ke,” she sobbed, burrowing into his chest, “Uncle Kenny’s gone.”

Right there, Keanu’s heart broke for her. Of course, everyone knew that the moment was coming, but still his wife had lost someone dear to her, and in such a painful way. All he wanted was to take the hurt away, she was supposed to be enjoying the path to motherhood, not breaking down because she’d lost a loved one. “I’m sorry baby,” Keanu kissed the top of Y/n’s head again. “Come on,” he eventually urged her off of the barstool, hugging her close as he led them to the living room, cuddling her as they sank onto the sofa. “Can I get you anything? Water or tea?” Even if he couldn’t fix her heartbreak, Keanu could still take care of her, and their baby.

“No,” she shook her head, staring forward blankly, her fingers absently tracing circles on her growing bump, too upset to notice the fluttering kicks against her stomach. Why couldn’t he have just stuck around for three more months? If not to see her grow up, just to meet her, at least once.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Keanu probed, wishing that he could offer more than just a listening ear and a hug.

Y/n shook her head again, “Not really,” her words were soft and broken, “Can we just sit here for a bit?”

“Of course sweetheart.”

Funerals were always emotionally draining, but it was especially so when you were six months pregnant and your emotions were working in overtime. Huffing as she entered their bedroom, Y/n winced as she stationed a weary hand at her aching back. The lengthy service had been held at a church in the city, Uncle Kenny just had to be a devout Catholic in his final days, and the old, worn, wooden pews hadn’t been very kind. Worse yet, the kitten heels she’d opted to wear didn’t provide much support when she’d had to spend nearly two hours on her feet, standing at the entrance with her parents as they thanked everyone as they trickled out of the cathedral.

With a pained groan, half from her back, half from the headache she’d acquired at some point throughout the day, Y/n slowly sank into the armchair, intent on starting to remove her shoes. Just as Y/n had lifted one swollen ankle onto her other knee, Keanu came into the bedroom, tugging at the neck of his black tie, his longish dark strands brushing his shoulders, the salt in his beard signalling that he hadn’t gone for a trim in a while. “Let me do that,” he offered, coming to kneel in front of her.

“No,” Y/n flinched away, “I’ll do it.” She was upset with him, though, she hadn’t let him know yet. Y/n had spent the last week or so in deep, deep thought; her uncle had been a smoker, which had led to lung cancer and, ultimately, death. Keanu was a smoker too, and Y/n couldn’t help but worry that she’d lose him like that or to some other type of ill health.

Furrowing his brows, Keanu tilted his head to the side. Y/n had been cold with him all day, holding his hand, but only reluctantly so, and barely saying a word to him on the drive back to their house. He understood that she was hurting, but he didn’t want her to shut him out because of it. “What’s wrong?”

“We just came back from a funeral, what do you think’s wrong?” Y/n grumbled, struggling to take her shoes off, eventually submitting to his help. “Excuse me,” she pushed off the arm chair, shrugging off the black blazer that she’d worn over her smock dress, letting her hair down afterwards.

“Y/n,” Keanu sighed her name quietly, “Please, just talk to me. I know this is hard for you but-”

“I want you to stop smoking,” the admission just tumbled out of her mouth, with barely any warning. She’d had it; watching her uncle wither away was hard enough, Y/n was sure that she couldn’t survive watching Keanu being broken down like that. And worse yet, raise their child on her own, what was she supposed to tell their daughter? That her father puffed his life away even though he knew she’d need him?

“What?” Keanu slipped his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, taken aback by her harsh request.

“I want you to stop smoking,” Y/n repeated firmly, “I don’t want to lose you like that. And even if its not cancer, there’s a whole bunch of other stuff that it could cause. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you, you know that.”

Keanu chuckled humorlessly, hoping to lighten the moment. Y/n had never had a problem with his nasty vice before, they’d been together for years, and now, out of the blue she wanted him to stop? “Honey,” he chuckled again, “Don’t be ridiculous.” In retrospect, accusing his pregnant wife of being ridiculous may not have been his best move.

“Ridiculous?” Y/n repeated incredulously, “You think I’m being ridiculous for wanting you to be healthy? Well maybe I’m being ridiculous for having a baby with a man who’s not taking care of himself, who probably doesn’t even care if he lives long enough to walk his daughter down the aisle one day.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He scoffed, already exasperated, “I’m fine Y/n, healthy and right here.” He loved his wife, but like almost every other husband in the world Keanu didn’t want to be wrong. Besides, he was stuck in his ways; old habits die hard. And above all, he was scared, Keanu didn’t want to think about missing one of the most important days of his daughter’s life, no father did. Unfortunately though, instead of his inner turmoil encouraging him to be sympathetic to Y/n's cause, it just fanned Keanu’s flame, rousing the worst reaction, “And you know what? If having a baby with me is so fucking ridiculous, maybe we shouldn’t have kept it! Hell, I’m older than you anyway, maybe I’ll just die, have you thought of that?”

Y/n’s lips quivered, frightened at his tone and at a complete loss for words. How could he say those things? “I…..” Nothing would come, and suddenly, Y/n wanted to be far away from Keanu. That wasn’t the gentle, sweet man she married. Her husband was loving and sensitive, he was overjoyed when they’d found out that they were having a baby and ordinarily would have never said something so cruel. Y/n didn’t know what had prompted the seemingly overnight change, but she did know that if Keanu was going to be like that, she didn’t want to be in the same house with him.

Seeing the tears in her eyes and the slight shake in her form, Keanu swore under his breath, “Fuck.” He couldn’t believe that he’d let fear and anger get the better of him like that. He stood; wooden and glued to the floor as Y/n suddenly started moving around in as much of a haste as her condition would afford her, grabbing a large bag from their closet and packing some of her stuff into it, “I’m- shit,” he mumbled when she wouldn’t stop to hear him, “Y/n,” he pleaded, reached out to grab her arm, huffing in defeat when she pulled away, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yeah, well you did.” Zipping the top up, Y/n swung her bag over her shoulders, too enraged to take the time to put her shoes back on, so instead shoving her tired feet into the nearest pair of flip flops, a fluffy set that she usually wore after getting into her pajamas. Without another word, she was leaving the bedroom, headed towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Keanu followed Y/n down the steps, and able to move a little faster than her, he easily blocked her way at the bottom.

Her cheeks were tear stained and Y/n’s eyes were already red, one hand gripped the strap of the bag tightly while the other was placed protectively over her bump. Keanu hated seeing her cry, yet, that night, he’d been the one bringing tears to her eyes. “Home,” was all she offered, trying to squeeze through the space between his larger body and the railing.

“You are home,” he countered, folding his arms.

“I meant home, to my parents,” she clarified, not even sure why she’d bothered to tell him. At the side door to the garage, Y/n grabbed her car keys off the little brass hook, singling out the remote for her car alarm and then hitting the button at the top to unlock it.

“At least let me drive you,” he didn’t want Y/n to leave like that, distraught and past dark. Even in the security of her car, anything could happen, and above all, her safety came first, triumphing any amount of anger over their spat.

“No,” Y/n was getting into her car, clumsily sliding into the driver’s seat, “I just…...I don’t want to be around you right now, okay?”

The harshness in her tone coupled with her actual words stung like a snake bite to the chest, though Keanu was well aware that he’d said much worse not too long ago. He should have been reasonable instead of acting like an insensitive jerk. He should have heard her out and talked things through with Y/n instead of spewing battery acid.

The garage door reeled open and Y/n started backing her car out, not paying Keanu any mind as he called after her. Desperately, he followed on his feet for as far as he could, though, as usual, he was reminded that his knees weren't what they used to be and before long, Y/n's car was far beyond his reach, his wife and child, who he was absolutely terrified to lose, gone, and he'd had no clue when, or if, they'd ever be back.

Sleep had been hard to come by that night, so hard that it never really came. Keanu's mind was constantly bombarded with anxious thoughts of Y/n. She hadn't answered her phone when he called, probably two dozen times, and when he'd tried her parents place, they'd both rattled off cheap, continuous excuses; she wasn't there yet, she was sleeping or even the age old "she's busy."

All night, he'd worried about her, even between his fruitless phone calls. Was she sleeping okay? Was she well? How was the baby? For a brief moment, at around two am, Keanu had all but actually made it to his car, still dressed from the funeral, ready to head to his in-laws and mend things with his love, but in the end, fear and reason had stopped him. Y/n needed time to cool off, especially after what he'd said, a mere few hours definitely weren't going to cut it.

And then, slumping into one of the sitting room's sofas, Keanu finally took a minute to think about exactly what had gone down. Her plea had been reasonable; if it had been the other way around, he'd have wanted her to stop a lifetime ago, expect her to do anything that would prolong their time together. But there he'd stood, trying to make Y/n the fool for asking the same of him.

Maybe I'll just die. Those were his words.

Keanu had never been one to let himself be preoccupied with thoughts of his own death, it was frivolous after all, it wasn't like he could change it. One day, it was going to happen, one day, he was going to leave people behind. And it never bothered him, that was, until he met her. So innocently, not looking to fall in love, but just a month later, doing it anyway. Almost four years ago, Y/n had brought a new vibrancy to his life, and now, they were creating one together. And with every cell in his being, Keanu didn't want to miss a moment of it.

Quitting was hard, he'd tried before. But arguably, before, there wasn't so much at stake. Just like that, with reinvigorated energy, Keanu pushed off the couch, fishing a half empty pack of smokes from his pocket, tossing it to the kitchen counter, only to head to the little draw in the kitchen where he usually kept some more on hand. Even if it wasn't going to be easy, even if the stories he'd heard about withdrawal and the side effects of going cold turkey were terrifying, Keanu knew that he had to. For his wife, for his child. For himself.

For the rest of the night, knowing full and well that sleeping with her spot vacant would be a daunting task, Keanu disregarded the need for rest, instead opting to sweep the house for any trace of a cigarette; getting rid of everything from stray smokes and glass ashtrays to expensive cigars. If he was going to do it, he was going to do it right.

By dawn, everything indicating that a smoker resided at their cushy house in the hills had been tossed; dumped in the appropriate bin at the curb, and then, unable to hold out any longer, Keanu finally got in his car, started it up and backed out into the street, headed to bring his family home.

Her eyes burned, half from crying all night and half from just not sleeping at all. Though she'd tried, pillows tucked around her, Y/n still hadn't managed to catch a wink all night, and as the light of dawn split the darkness, she'd found herself queasy with homesickness. It wasn't like she hadn't ever spent a night away from her place with Keanu, but the feeling of being at odds with him like that, knowing she'd actively left so abruptly and so distraught, had made her literally sick.

Needless to say, things had gone far awry from what Y/n had expected. Of course, he was allowed to be upset, she was asking him to give up something he'd been doing for more than twenty years, smoking, as terrible as it was, was ingrained in his routine. Habitual. And trying to take it away so sudden would be like ripping away someone's security blanket. So really, she had no intention of hurting him.

Yet still, he'd hurt her

That morning, and the painful memory continued to rack her frame with soft sobs, eventually interrupted by her mother, features pinched with worry, knocking on her ajar door as she poked her head in, "Y/n," she probed tentatively, "Sweetheart, Keanu wants to know if you'd be okay with talking to him now. Please, he's worried about you."

"I don't wanna talk to him," Y/n shifted beneath the mass of covers, swiping away some tears from her reddened cheeks, "Just tell him to leave me alone." She knew, full and well, that she sounded like a melodramatic teenager going through a lover's spat with her high school boyfriend, but Y/n didn't care.

"Dear," her mother sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I know you two had a fight last night, but he's your husband. Besides, he's already downstairs."

Struggling to turn towards the door and sit up, Y/n couldn't decide if she was infuriated or touched, "What?" Sniffing loudly, she reached for a tissue from the box at her bedside, "Why?"

"Because, he's worried and he loves you," when Y/n didn't look particularly moved, her mother, as adamant on having them resolve their issues as she was, continued, "And he know he's said some stupid things, but he doesn't want to keep things this way. Everyone makes mistakes Y/n. Please just talk to him, he's here and he's as much of a mess as you are. And we both know that all this stress isn't good for the baby, I'm sure she misses her daddy."

Hesitating for a moment, Y/n eventually nodded, absently caressing her bump as she finally permitted, "Okay, fine. Tell him I'll be right down."

Smiling faintly, Y/n's mother thought on it for a minute, before suggesting; "Even better; why don't I ask him up here? That way you two can shut the door and have some privacy."

"Yeah, okay," wiping her reddened nose with the crumpled tissue, trying not to cry again, "He can come up." Mouthing an okay, Y/n’s mother pushed the door back in, walking off without another word, and just as she did, Y/n shoved off the covers, scooting to the edge of the bed and slowly standing. Taking a minute to go over to the full length mirror, passing a brush from the top of the dresser through her bed head and then attempting to straighten her mismatched pajamas, she was just about to go over to the window, to see if Keanu's car was really parked out front, when her door creaked open, the sudden sound making her jump and gasp.

"Hey," Keanu didn't hold her gaze for longer than a minute handful of seconds before letting his whiskey orbs fall to the hardwood floor, strands from his untamed mane curtaining his tired features. Cautiously, as if he were afraid of upsetting her, Keanu inched into Y/n's childhood bedroom. They both knew the room well, and she remembered the first time she'd brought him to it, the night he'd met her parents for the first time. They'd been skeptical at first, he was older, and Hollywood had given most of their men a bad rep, but by the end of dinner, her mother was smitten and her father…...well, he could tolerate him. They'd brought their desert up there and had it by the window, just before Y/n had showed him around. Their current situation felt far different; void of the warmth of new love replaced by the stifling fear that their marriage was hanging in the balance.

"Hi," meekly, Y/n replied, swallowing thickly and not knowing how they should have continued. She didn't like how it felt; to be so flustered in his company. They were each other's safe places, refuge after a long, hard day, their first phone calls when something good happened and everything in between. Around Keanu, silence was comfortable and usually, breaking long stretches without words exchanged was easy. But that morning, she didn't have the slightest clue on what to say, on how to begin to bridge the gap that had grown overnight.

Putting a fist to his lips, Keanu raised his head again, tentatively looking around first to the unmade bed and then to Y/n standing near the closed window as he cleared his throat, primarily to break the tense silence. "I'm sorry," just as she had the night before, Y/n flinched when Keanu reached for her, that time though, it was more out of hurt than anger. She could see that her actions had stung him by the pained look that crossed his face, but he'd done his own share of damage the night before, and even if she could be talked into forgiving, Y/n wasn't just yet ready to forget. "What I said-"

"Was pretty damn fucked up," the break in her voice brought with it a new wave of quiet tears and Y/n could swear she felt her heart start breaking at his words replaying in her mind. Maybe we shouldn’t have kept it. Maybe I’ll just die. “You talked about aborting our child Keanu! What, were you just lying every time you said you wanted a family with me?”

“No, no, of course not,” scouring his brain for the right words, Keanu’s chest felt tight. He really had messed things up, with the best person in his life, and he wasn’t sure he could fix it. But he had to give it his best. He didn’t think he could stand to leave without his wife. “I just,” hitting his thigh with his fist and shaking his head, Y/n could see him fighting tears, “I got defensive, I don't want to think about not being there for the both of you, it’s scary.”

“Then talk to me about it, try to understand where I’m coming from when I ask you to try to quit,” Y/n’s arms fell to her sides in defeat, “Don’t…..” When she couldn’t finish, Keanu approached her again, and that time, she let him wrap her in his strong arms. It had just been one night, but she’d missed their comfort dearly, there was absolutely nothing that could compare to his embrace.

“I’m so, so sorry sweetheart,” his husky, pained voice was barely a whisper and he followed up his words with a chaste kiss on the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. It felt so good to have her tucked against his chest again, their heartbeats in sync. “I never, ever want to hurt you like this again,” Keanu rubbed her back soothingly, one hand toying with the ends of her freed tresses, “And I want to be with you, both of you, for as long as I can be. So I’m quitting, I’m done with that.”

With tear stained cheeks and glassy eyes, Y/n reared back slightly to meet his equally blurry gaze, “I’m sorry I picked a fight about that,” Y/n sighed quietly, and as much as she’d wanted him to quit smoking, she didn’t want to push him too hard, “And you know, if its too hard then-”

“No,” Keanu swallowed thickly, “It’s not. I don’t care about that, our family matters more to me, and you two are gonna be stuck with me for a very, very long time.”

Through her tears, a glimmer of a smile broke through, brightening her sorrow, and without warning Y/n’s arms around Keanu’s middle tightened and she laid her head on his chest, “Good,” she grinned softly, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him sweetly, “Cause we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #keanu reeves fanfic #john wick fanfic #ff #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #requested #angst #fluff #keanu reeves oneshot #john wick oneshot #family matter more

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puckngrind · 4 years ago

Text

What’s In A Name: 15- J. Toews

chapter 15.

Where we left off: Jon and Bekah enjoy All-Star break in Miami and run into her college best friend.

Warnings: smut, language

Word Count: 3,045

Series Masterlist ) Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Bliss.

Bekah met Jon in Minnesota a week after vacation. Kelly and her husband, Zack picked Bekah up and it was like no time had passed from college. Zack was Kelly’s college boyfriend. The two eloped two summers after graduation when Zack followed her home to the twin cities. The two welcomed their oldest daughter seven months later and started a life at a family of three. Bekah realized the distance plus sudden life changes were what made the two drift and she hated that she didn’t know Kelly’s kids. Watching Kelly in mom mode was fun as the kids scurried around her. Bekah convinced them to come to the game with her with some push back about the free tickets. The game went into overtime with the Blackhawks winning. Bekah looked down at the tired eyes of the three kids, Isabella, Brayden, and Oliver. “You want to go see the locker room?” All three’s eyes went wide and heads nodded like bobble heads. The group headed down and Jon gave them a little tour and pucks. Bekah took in how sweet Jon was with the kids. Getting down on their level, letting Oliver lean into his leg and speaking what Bekah deemed kid speak. She fell a little harder for him in that moment and had a moment where she pictured their kids. Her attention was quickly brought back to Jon and the kids as she leaned down to answer a question from Isabella.

“He scored on the power play, won, and gave them a tour... our kids are going to be Hawks fans aren’t they?” Zack pulls at his Wilds jersey while whispering loud enough for Jon and Bekah to look over and laugh.

“Is that so bad?” Jon smiles while standing straight and pulling Bekah into his side. “This one converted easily.” All those in ear shot laugh knowing Bekah was never really a hockey fan.

She really had become a fan of the game over the last 4 years and not just of Jon’s play. This change in the way she watched the game was noticed by everyone especially Brynn, who watched more of Bekah than the game while the Blue Jackets were in Chicago. Marie joined Brynn and Bekah and commented a few time on the changes of her daughter. Seeing Bekah happy and in love made Marie at ease with the quickness of the engagement. With the wedding five months away, the ladies took the weekend to go dress shopping. Bekah’s fingers brush the tulle and lace of the dresses that were pulled when Brynn called to schedule an appointment. The trio realized quickly that the boutique knew exactly who Bekah was marrying by the dress selection. Bekah sees Brynn’s feet on the other side of the rack and spreads the dresses.

“Holy shit Rin! Have you LOOKED at these prices? These dresses are insane. Imported from Italy some of them.” Bekah whisper yells and Brynn laughs. “And you can afford every. single. one. friend. Jon said pick the dress you want, regardless of the price and you are doing just that. MOH duty to ensure it happens.” Bekah swallows hard as her hand keeps coming back to the same dress.

“You’ve touched that dress multiple times, Rebekah. Maybe you should try it on?” Marie’s voice comes out of no where causing Bekah to jump. The sales woman hears and moves Bekah and the dress quickly away while the other escorts Marie and Brynn to the waiting area. When Bekah emerged they all knew. She found the dress she would be marrying Jon in. Marie wipes her eyes as Bekah fusses with the veil. “It’s perfect. Simply perfect.” Brynn nods her head with tears filling her eyes.

Wedding planning with Jon during the season was interesting but he was intentional with their time. His only real request was leaving the honeymoon completely up to him. One evening while laying in bed, Jon could feel Bekah was thinking of her mile long list of things to do. “You got everything under control. I’m so damn impressed, Baby.” Jon’s arm pulls Bekah’s body into his and kisses her sweetly.

“Thanks. I’m thankful you can help when you can.” Bekah’s body shifts under Jon’s arm.

“But? I feel like there is a but in that statement.” Jon’s lips press into her temple.

“But nothing. Everything is falling into place. The invitations. The food. The cake. The... dress.” Bekah clears her throat.

“Do you not like your dress? Because if not, it’s not too late Beks.” Jon whispers.

“Why would you say that? I love my dress. It’s perfect.” Bekah sits up.

“Your list. You paused while listing your dress and did that thing with your lips where you pull the inside of your lip into your teeth. Seriously, it doesn’t matter the price, if you want a new one, you and Brynn can go as soon as she can get here.” Jon’s fingers run up and down her spine.

“It’s so incredibly stupid but I just keep thinking that maybe I shouldn’t wear white...” Bekah places her face in her hands and rests her elbows on her knees. She feels the bed shaking and turns to see Jon trying not to laugh. “What? It’s tradition and well...”

“And what Beks? You aren’t a virgin so you shouldn’t wear white?” Jon pulls her into his chest unable to contain the laughter. “Sweetheart, wear white, ivory, pink, blue, black... I don’t fucking care. I know you will look gorgeous and frankly, all I care about is making you my wife.” His lips kiss down her jaw and he moves her chin to find her lips.

“Well, it’s not white, white...” Jon’s body lands on top of Bekah’s and she exhales from the weight.

“Don’t tell me. I want to be completely surprised. Just know, I do not care what color your dress is Beks. At the end of the day, it is just you and me becoming husband and wife. The rest is just a show for the world. Now, can I... well... I need... can we... fuck. Words.” His hips roll into hers making Bekah moan out. “Yeah, that. Now that we are done with the dress conversation. Shall we?” His body moves down hers, positioning himself between Bekah’s legs. Slight kisses on the inside of her thighs while he adjusts her legs. Jon’s fingers dance down from her clit to Bekah’s core and his tongue follows begetting jolts and groans from Bekah above.

“Tae.” Bekah’s entire body feels the wave produced by tongue and fingers moving together. He hums into her skin while continuing to suck and flick her most sensitive area. “Tae, I’m gonna...” She didn’t finish her warning. Bekah’s thighs tighten around Jon’s head as an intense orgasm rips through her body. Jon’s free arm wraps around her thigh to pull her leg past his shoulder as his tongue and fingers don’t let up. “Fuck. Jon.” Bekah leans up realizing he’s not letting her come down from this high. His lips press into her and then releases. Jon’s fingers pump and curve while he shifts his weight to his knees. “What are you doing?” She pants out. Jon’s fingers move only to be replaced with his cock and his body drops down onto Bekah.

“Making sure you have a damn amazing orgasm since I won’t be able to give you one for a few days.” Jon’s swollen lips kiss her’s and Bekah moves her legs to wrap around him.

“Oh, it’s working, Tae!” Bekah’s fingers claw at his back feeling her second build deep inside.

“I know.” His voice was low and mischievous. Jon grunts. “Beks, you feel so damn good.” His hips snap into Bekah but don’t retreat. Bekah squirms under him pressing her hips into his. He pulls his head up to look into Bekah’s now open eyes. “I love you. You know. Forever.” He whispers before he releases sending Bekah’s high crashing over her again.

“I love you too, J.” Bekah breathes out while running her fingers through his hair. “Now, can we talk flowers?” Bekah’s change of subject made Jon laugh into her chest.

“Sure, wild local flowers?” He kisses her neck and lifts up. Seeing his blissed out fiancée’s face knowing his suggestion was perfect.

The season ended with another year without playoffs. With the season of change everyone seemed to be ready to put it behind them and start fresh in the fall. Bekah and Jon went into full wedding prep mode with time spent as off season usually was. Jon did a bachelor party weekend golfing in the Carolinas while Bekah met Brynn, Kelly, Alyssa, and both moms in Chicago to take in a Cubs game and shopping. The ladies were impressed with how calm Bekah was with everything.

“I think married life suits you.” Brynn leans into Bekah while the ladies were having dinner on the roof.

“I’m not married, yet, Rin.” Bekah looks at her friend. “He can still...” Bekah takes a long sip of her wine afraid to finish the sentence.

“Yeah, he won’t. He wanted to marry you months ago. You two are made for each other and this wedding is just a public declaration of that. I will say I am impressed you haven’t really Bekah-ed anything either, right?” Brynn bumps her shoulders and Bekah feels the heat in her cheeks. “Oh, no. What?”

“Well, I told him I wasn’t sure I should wear white.” Bekah whispered looking at her mom, Andrée, and Kelly taking in the view.

“Oh Bekah!” Alyssa chimed in. “You didn’t!” The two giggle causing the rest of the ladies to look over. Bekah pulls her legs into herself and nods taking in the conversation with Jon before the season ended. She drifted into her own thoughts as the girls discussed bridal showers and getting the dress to Arizona.

It was July in the blink of an eye, Jon and Bekah were on their way to Sedona almost a week before the wedding. Everything was set in place. “You ready, Baby?” Jon wraps his arms around her waist and lands his chin on her shoulder taking in the stunning backdrop for their ceremony. The venue’s host off making sure everything for the day was scheduled to arrive on time.

“Yeah. It really is beautiful here. And this view Tae. This view is breathtaking.” Bekah’s hand slides down Jon’s arms looking out over the red rocks.

“And it will be the second most beautiful view on Friday.” Jon’s lips kiss the corner of her mouth as she smirks remembering their first trip.

“I think you are going to love the dress. I mean, I hope you will. I tried on one plus my reception dress.” Bekah whispered.

“You could wear sweats and I would love it. But no doubt, it’s the perfect dress for my bride.” Jon had a way of making Bekah feel so loved and relaxed in the middle of moments others would stress out in. Which was exactly how she felt as the wedding day came. The guests were seated and Bekah looked down at her dress. Her fingers rub the lace overlay as she moves her hands down the modern a-line dress. The ivory underlay catching the light almost looking rose gold when she looked into the mirror. Brynn’s swift movement of her chapel train made Bekah’s eyes meet her matron of honor’s that were filled with tears.

“Are you crying?” Bekah’s voice broke through and she turned to Brynn who could just nod her head. “Rin.” Bekah’s hand envelop her best friend’s. Brynn’s hand moves from their embrace and reaches up to fix Bekah’s T necklace that sat perfectly in her v shaped embroidered neckline.

“I’m just so damn happy for you, that’s all. I feel like I’ve been your coach this whole time. Your biggest cheerleader.” This makes the girls laugh. “Jon told me to make sure you had this and that your mascara was waterproof before you opened it.” Brynn reaches for a tiny box that had been unnoticed in the hustle of getting ready. Bekah looks down, looks at her friend then opens the tiny box. A handkerchief was folded neatly in it. She recognized it as her grandfather’s but noticed there was something added. “Always yours” Bekah breathed out willing the tears to stay put. “How did he? When did he?” Bekah looked up at her father.

“That man knows you well, B. You found yourself a good one there.” Jim smiles sweetly and Bekah just nods her head. Brynn takes the baby blue handkerchief and tucks it into Bekah’s wildflower bouquet before handing it to her.

“Is the bridal party ready?” The coordinator’s voice breaks through the emotion filled room. “You have one handsome groom waiting for you. The entire room took a breath and got in line. Bekah’s dad offered his arm and she wrapped hers in his. They rounded the corner, music playing, all 200 guests on their feet staring at Bekah but she was looking for Jon and only Jon. Bekah finally sees Jon who is beaming at the end of the aisle. Tailored black tux almost leaning sideways to catch his first glimpse of his bride walking her way. The two decided to go the traditional route and not see each other before this moment and it was worth it. His look was worth it. David nudged him from his spot once Bekah and her father were stopped. Jon makes his way to the two. Shakes Jim’s hand and offers his arm to Bekah who presses her hand into his forearm to ground herself.

“Beks, you are the most beautiful bride ever.” Jon whispers as the two walk the few steps to the minister. Kelly straightens out her train while Brynn grabs her bouquet so she can place both hands into Jon’s. His thumbs rubbing the tops of her hands. The two so lost in their non-verbal conversation that they didn’t hear the minister ask Jon to repeat after him.

“Jonathan, repeat after me... please.” The officiant says again eliciting a laughter from the crowd. The ceremony was perfect in every way. Sunset over the Sedona rocks in the backdrop with their closest friends and family members witnessing their union. Both Bekah and Jon misty eyed but not crying which surprised everyone. Patrick joked he lost the bet with Duncan on their captain actually shedding tears during the event. The couple savored every moment as one. “By the power given to me by the state of Arizona, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss her bride.” Jon pulls Bekah in and his hands cup her face kissing her deeply but then retracting after the cheers.

“I love you. Ma femme pour toujours.” Jon whispers and Bekah’s eyebrow shoots up. “My wife forever.” He translates and Bekah kisses him again.

“Je t'aime Tae.” Bekah whispers then they look out to the crowd realizing they had an audience.

“I am happy to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan and Rebekah Toews.” The music plays and the guests stand. Jon grabs her hand and they walk down the aisle dipping her to kiss his wife again before heading towards the reception area.

The reception went smoothly. The couple found a baker that specialized in flourless cake. The meal was amazing and the hockey players behaved themselves for the most part. Jon twirled Bekah around the dance floor not letting his hands off her. By the time the two made their way to their honeymoon suite the event crashed over them. Jon scoops Bekah up and carries her over the threshold. Her reception tea dress being unzipped as soon as he closed the door. “So, Mrs. Toews...” Jon’s eyebrows wiggle.

“Yes, Mr. Toews... ok that doesn’t have the same effect.” Bekah kisses him. Her fingers playing with his new wedding band. “Do you want the lingerie now or on this mystery honeymoon?” Her dress being dropped to the ground and an animalistic sound erupted from his lips.

“Later. I want you now.” Jon growls into her skin while she finishes removing his already half unbuttoned dress shirt.

“Ya, sure. I brought a set for this weekend. It even has Mrs. written on the ass.” Bekah presses her lips to his chest.

“Tomorrow, after our rock pictures. We can have a second wedding night.” Jon moans under Bekah’s touch.

“Speaking of, you think I can get up there in my dress? I would hate to fall to my death a day after getting married.” Bekah looks up at her husband with a smirk.

“I’ll carry you, promise.” Jon smiles and his lips catch Bekah’s. “The pictures will be worth the little sweat to get you up there.” Jon tosses Bekah lightly on the bed. “Now, where was I, oh yes. I need to fully bliss out my wife.” He unbuckles his pants and crawls over top of Bekah as she lets out a little laugh. “What?” Jon’s eyebrow questions.

“Wife. I just. I like that title.” Bekah wraps her arms around his neck and presses up to kiss him deeply. Jon moans.

“Rebekah Toews, I fucking love you.” Jon whispers.

“Hmmmm... Maybe I’ll keep it Pierce, you know so people can pronounce it.” She giggles as Jon groans from her joke.

“Funny Beks. Funny. You are legally Pierce for the honeymoon travel then we can change it... if you want. You know I want you too.” Jon’s lips ghost over her skin.

“I am. You know that.” Bekah’s body reacts to Jon’s touch. “Tae, question?” He hums in acknowledgment. “Where are we going for our honeymoon?” Bekah’s fingers comb through his hair.

“Chicago.” Jon mumbles against her breast.

“Come on, Tae.” Bekah pulls her legs up to try and move him.

“Not tellin’. You will find out when we board the plane.” Jon bites at her skin and she jumps.

“Seriously. You won’t tell me?”

“Nope.” Jon pops the p and places his chin between her breasts. “Mrs. Toews, you have forever to ask me all the questions. Forever. Can I plllleeessseee have sex with my gorgeous wife now?” Jon pushes up and kisses Bekah hard as she melts into him.

#Jonathan Toews fic #What's in a name fic #WIAN #j toews #jonathan toews #tazer me 19 #love a damn blackhawk 🤦🏻‍♀️#happens in the 2018-2019 season

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theycallmebecca · 4 years ago

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Drabble: The Bet 2020

I never post stories this late... but here we are. The Patriots and Seahawks game ended about 20 minutes ago now... in a shocking fashion. I sat on my couch just staring in disbelief for like two minutes straight.

Anyway... here is the Chris and Ellie drabble I hinted that I was writing earlier tonight. It ended up being centered on Scott more than Chris and Ellie, but I’m not mad about that.

But here we go, here’s the drabble.

Title: The Bet 2020

Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC Ellie Spencer-Evans

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Language

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

September 20, 2020

Scott watched Chris and Ellie as they worked side by side in the kitchen while he supplied Tommy with cheerios.

As usual on a Sunday morning, Chris was rocking a Patriots shirt and Ellie was wearing a Seahawks shirt. However, neither of them had mentioned the fact that the two teams were playing each other.

If it had been any other couple with a newborn at home, Scott would believe that they didn't know that their teams were playing each other. But it was Chris and Ellie. He knew they knew and he knew they had a bet.

"Should be an interesting game tonight," he said, conversationally.

"Should be," Chris agreed.

"Especially now that the Patriots have a quarterback that can actually run," Ellie muttered under her breath.

With the kitchen island between them, Scott could only imagine what his brother did that made his wife jump and squeal before she whipped around to glare at him.

"Moe! Moe!" Tommy said from beside him, pounding his little fists on the highchair tray.

Turning towards his nephew, Scott saw that the tray was empty. He poured some more cereal out for his nephew and smiled.

"Tankoo," Tommy said before grabbing a fist full of cheerios.

Turning back to Chris and Ellie, he rolled his eyes when they saw them being flirty. Clearly, Ellie had forgiven him for whatever he had done.

"Innocent eyes in the room," he called out.

"Not the worst he's been in the room for," Chris replied with an unapologetic shrug. "Or were you talking about yourself."

Reaching over, Scott put a hand in front of Tommy's face while he used his other hand to flip his brother off.

"Behave," Ellie said, grabbing Chris's hand to keep him from returning the gesture. Then she leveled a look at Scott. "You, too."

Scott smiled innocently in response, making her roll her eyes.

"I'm on to you," she told him. "Both of you."

"That's what you think," Chris said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. "But we're really good actors."

Ellie scoffed but didn't try to free herself. Instead, she leaned back against him and rolled her eyes for only Scott to see.

Deciding to not beat around the bush anymore, Scott asked, "So what's the bet this time?"

"Bet?" Ellie asked in an almost believable surprised tone. "What bet?"

"Ullbay itshay," Scott responded, saying 'bull shit' in pig latin to get around the no cursing around the babies rule.

Chris snorted and gave him a small thumbs up at his creativity.

Ellie, on the other hand, put a hand to her chest in mock offense. "Are you suggesting that we, two adults, can not see our two teams play without betting on the outcome?" she asked.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Scott replied. "Because they've played each other twice since we've known you and you betted on both of those games. Not to mention that the two of you betted on which team was going to go farther the first year we knew you."

"And it's 2 to 1, baby," Ellie said, giving a little dance that had Chris grabbing her waist to hold her still to keep things rated PG. "On the way to 3 to 1."

"Uh, no, it's going to be 2 and 2 after today," Chris argued.

"So what is the bet?" Scott asked again.

"Oh, it's nothing big," Ellie replied with a shrug. "Kind of boring, actually."

"I don't know if I would go that far," Chris said with raised eyebrows. "Sometimes, it is. Big, that is."

"If you're talking about what I think you're talking about, I don't want to know anymore," Scott replied.

"Diapers, we're talking about dirty diapers," Ellie told him. "Specifically, poopy diapers. Get your mind out of the gutter, Scott."

Scott glared at Chris for setting him up.

Chris just grinned and gave a small shrug.

"The loser has to change all the poopy diapers for a week," Ellie explained. "I'm looking forward to handing the boys over and not having to deal with any surprise blow outs."

"Imagine all you want, cause it's not happening," Chris stated. "The Patriots are going to whoop the Seahawks."

"Speaking of poopy diapers," Scott said as a smell reached his nose. "I think we have one."

"I'll take care of it," Chris said with a sigh. Walking around the island, he came over to the table. "Let's go change your butt, little guy." He freed Tommy from the highchair and then carried him out of the room.

"So is the bet really just about changing dirty diapers?" Scott asked Ellie as he carried the highchair tray over to dump the leftover cheerios.

"We're keeping it simple this time around," Ellie replied with a shrug. "Your brother is just afraid he'll lose again."

"No I'm not," Chris called from the next room over.

Scott met Ellie's eyes and she mouthed, "yes he is."

"I heard that," Chris called again.

Ellie rolled her eyes and then groaned as Marcus's cries came through the baby monitor.

"My turn," she said.

-----

Hours later, they were all in the family room watching the end of the Los Angeles Chargers vs Kansas City Chiefs game. Ellie had been thrilled when she saw that Justin Herbert, a rookie quarterback from Oregon, started the game for the Chargers. The Chargers had lost in overtime, but it had been an exciting game.

Ellie and Marcus were cuddled in the corner of the sectional couch, Dodger curled up next to them. While Chris and Tommy were on the floor playing with wood puzzles.

"Unca Soot pay," Tommy said, looking up at Scott with a face that Scott couldn't say no to.

Putting his beer on the coffee table, Scott sank down on the floor with him and helped him with a puzzle.

When the game started, Scott moved back up onto the couch with Ellie while Chris stayed on the floor with Tommy. After an exciting pick six by the Patriots to start the game, the Seahawks were able to score their own touchdown. By half time, it was all tied up at 14, with both teams scoring again.

With Chris and Ellie putting the boys to bed during half time, Scott put together the finishing touches on the crockpot dinner he and Ellie had put together earlier in the day.

By the time they came back downstairs, dinner was ready and they carried their food into the family room just in time for the second half of the game to start.

The third quarter saw the Seahawks pull ahead, but the Patriots didn't give up. As the final minutes of the game ticked down, Chris, Ellie and Scott were on the edge of their seats waiting to see how it would all play out.

The Patriots marched down the field and with two second left tried to score the winning touchdown from three yards out.

And failed.

Scott groaned and Chris collapsed back against the couch cushions in complete agony.

Ellie said nothing as she ran her fingers over Chris's short hair. Even she was shocked by the outcome of the game, especially the way it had ended.

"It was a good and exciting game," she finally said after a few minutes. "Right until the last second." Chris and Scott groaned. "Too soon?"

Chris tilted his head and shot her a look that told her he wasn't amused.

"Aw, it's ok, babe," Ellie said, the joy of winning flooding her veins. "I still love you, even if you cheer for shitty teams."

A squeal was the next thing that escaped her lips when Chris lunged for her.

Shaking his head, Scott grabbed the dishes and carried them into the kitchen. At the end of the day, he knew that regardless of whose team had one, they both would have changed poopy diapers. They'd been a team when it had just been them and Tommy and they seemed to have it all together with the addition of Marcus, too.

As he started to clean up the dinner dishes, Chris and Ellie came into the room carrying the rest. He rinsed and loaded the dishes while Chris put away the leftovers and Ellie wiped down the table.

"Do you want me to start the dishwasher?" Scott asked them.

"Sure, that would be great," Ellie replied with a smile.

Opening the doors to the cabinet below the sink, Scott missed the mischievous look that passed between the couple. But he did see the neon yellow sticky note taped to the bottle of the dishwashing detergent that said "use this one in the dishwasher".

"Fuck you both," he said as they both started cracking up. He'd known they'd bring up his dish soap in the dishwasher situation eventually. "Seriously, fuck you."

"We love you," Ellie said with a giggle. "And go Seahawks!" She blew him a kiss and then ran for the stairs.

Chris rolled his eyes, but smiled at Scott. "Happy early birthday, see you in the morning," he said before following his wife upstairs.

Scott shook his head as he put the soap in the dishwasher and then started it. Grabbing the key for his cabin, he turned off the kitchen lights and then made his way out to the one bedroom cabin he was staying in. With his mom back home, he could have moved into the house with them, but he liked having his own space and the small cabin afforded him that. He had a bathroom and a kitchenette and it was all he needed.

#theycallmebecca #theycallmebeccawrites #chris evans #becca writes drabbles #chris evans x ofc #cande drabbles #chris evans x original female character #chris evans as a dad #chris and ellie #chris and ellie series #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fiction

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kryptsune · 4 years ago

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Till Death Do You Part {Part 1} (UF Frans)

🌼Hummm I wonder why this is getting reposted with fully new edits. Could there be a reason I wonder?~

It was common for a girl such as herself to be betrothed to another even if she didn't know of him truly. A frightening prospect to promise your life to someone you had never met. Someone she knew so little of. Tonight was the night that they would meet and speak weeks before they would pledge themselves to one another. Just thinking about it made her nervous, hands fiddling with the fabric of her dress gently. Any moment now.

She was made up to look the most beautiful she had ever before but even then she was anxious, a shy and timid thing. Her auburn hair was styled in ringlets by her face amongst the bright ruby of a satin dress. Why had her father arranged such a thing? Wasn’t love the most important feeling? What if that was a luxury should would never be able to afford?

The young Lord yawned as he adjusted his cufflinks, going through the motions as always. He figured she would be just another pretty face, no mind to stimulate him, "I give her a month..." he murmured to himself before setting out for his first meeting. She was pretty, of course, and he always played the handsome and charismatic young suitor, "You must be the oh so lovely Lady Frisk."

Frisk didn't know who or what to expect as she twirled slowly to see whose baritone voice was addressing her. Was this him? The young lady picked up her dress taking a little curtsey out of respect. It was the proper greeting for a lady, "Yes Sire, though such flattery is not necessary. Frisk will do just fine." She had beautiful sparkling blue eyes like dazzling sapphires and a smile warm like the first rays of the morning sun.

She watched as he took a sweeping bow, "I would be your betrothed, Lord Red Fontaine." His hand extended out to her desiring the feeling of her own, "My... your beauty is astounding, I do not flatter my dear, there's no necessity for it.”

Well, he certainly was the charmer, “Forgive me, my Lord. I was uncertain and a lady should never assume. I thank you but I must confess my own thoughts on the matter, beauty only runs so deep. There are far more important qualities in a person.” She gingerly slipped her hand into his own. This was a gesture that most male suitors practiced at the time. The true test for her was his reaction to her confession.

He lifted that dainty pale hand, brushing his lips over the skin. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he laid on his almost supernatural charm, "Quite right my dear. Beauty fades overtime, but the mind...oh the mind is wondrous in what it can do...It is a true rarity to find both qualities." She was different from the other pretty faces he had charmed over the centuries. Something told him this was going to be quite interesting.

Most men she had conversed with wanted dull and shallow girls, all things which she was not. That gentle kiss he laid on her hand did cause her cheeks to warm in a sweet pink glow, “Such a refreshing perspective my Lord. I am used to dulling the mind in pursuit of shallow appeals. As you can see I do not hold my tongue.” It was better, to be honest about who she was then proclaim a temperament that she could not uphold.

He could not contain the smirk that twisted his mouth, perhaps she would prove to be a challenge nearly after 400 plus years, "Indeed, I too find your outlook refreshing. It's so rare to see a young lady of the times actually use the mind they possess." His voice was soft as he pulled her closer to him.

Cobalt eyes locked with his as she was brought close enough to feel the velvet of his suit. She considered him swoon-worthy, a gentleman, and he agreed with her view of intellectual stimulation. A rarity if she ever knew one. Her nerves fluttered away, “It is unfortunate. I hope that I do not disappoint. I must confess my nerves have been keeping my attention all day until this point."

One of her many distinguishing features were those eyes that held a vibrancy to them that he hadn’t seen in all his centuries, "As they should... After all, women are expected to bow and behave for their men." He gave a boisterous laugh and waved a hand dismissively, "Bah with that. I want my bride to be herself. Something I suspect you'll do, won't you?"

She seemed like such a sweet little thing. Usually, the ones he chose were vain or dim-witted. They jumped on him as soon as they saw his looks but not her, "A good mindset to have my dear, come let us take a walk and speak more." All he got was that sweet smile and those gemstone eyes filled with newfound curiosity and excitement, “I can only ever be true to myself, my Lord. Nothing more.”

He smiled at her agreement, endeavouring to know her fully and of course more playing to what she liked, but he found he had to lie less around her, "Truly, I've had a wonderful time my dear. I look forward to our wedding and future life."

Frisk was the happiest she had ever been because of his genuineness. She wasn’t quite sure if she loved him but he made her smile and treated her like a human being, not just some prize to be won or a doll to display, “As do I.” That genuine smile practically caused her face to glow.

He kissed her forehead chastely knowing full well he had to play his hand sweetly for now. The young bride to be couldn’t deny his sweet forehead kiss was enough to melt her as his hand slipped from hers. There was no doubt that she was smitten with him. His voice was that baritone that would cause one’s knees to weaken, "Wondrous my dear, I shall see you quite soon~"

As he always intended of course. He left her soon after dropping her off back at her home, slipping into the shadows as he returned to his own estate. His mind wandered as he strolled past the lamps posted at every street corner, their flames bright behind their glass cases. As with every game they played he would relay his findings to his two older brothers. They would exchange their progress and in turn joke about their victim’s coming demise.

His return home prompted a sit down by the roaring fire and a glass of wine as he let them speak. Carthus, the second eldest, reclined upon the ornate fainting couch that rested to the right of the main sitting area. The eldest, Gered, took a seat to his right.

The conversation left him at odds even as he barely processed to the words that slipped from his mouth. His two brothers on the other hand reveled in the drab game they had been toying with for more lifetimes than he cared to count.

Carthus smugly teased his younger brother with her potential thoughts of him as the moon rose to cast its silver light upon the land. The beams slipped through windows casting a somewhat eerie glow within the room. He of course had no such worries of the dark but what about her? He could just hear his brothers mockery about how hypnotized by him she probably was, "Honestly brother what do you think she will taste like?~"

Despite his emotional confusion he placed a smirk on his face, leaning back, and taking a sip from the wine glass cradled in between his fingers, "She is rather spirited and I believe pure as well. A rarity. It did not take much to have her wrapped around my finger, brother, but you are well aware of what I am capable of." The smirk forced on his lips grew as he spoke, “I believe this time that the game shall be won by me. My bride to be will be easy to please~”

Gered chuckled from his place closest to the flames, "We shall certainly see. I cannot wait to see how this game will come to a close... of course, we shall see how our lovely ladies stack up when the time comes to evaluate."

Carthus was back to his teasing, leaning forward to make a point of it, "I cannot wait to see the look on her face when she finds out what you really are in her last moments of life." It caused him to pause. What would she think of him regardless of the outcome? No mortal had survived to tell others about the brothers. They usually lasted a few months once the wedding vows were finished.

He cleared his throat to respond to his brother’s rather sadistic humor, "Oh it will be quite sweet I assure you." The three laughed in unison as they toasted to their manipulative vice, “Their faces are always precious right before you devour them~" If he was honest he did not even remember most of them. They were a meal and nothing more. Those blue eyes, however, stuck with him even now.

The following day he would meet with her again though the visit was more of a surprise to her. He found her lounging beneath the shade of an old tree and drawing silently. A few sticks of charcoal were scattered about the lush grasses at her feet.

He put on his best smile as he drew a single red rose from his coat pocket and dangled it in front of her sight, "Good morning my dear one."

She blinked in surprise, that soft flush painting her cheeks, "Good morning. You took me by surprise for a moment. I am overjoyed to see you again so soon." Truly she never felt so affectionate toward another before. Her smile only grew when he took a seat beside her, "As am I my dear, I simply could not wait to see you once more."

Though her joy was genuine she still retained doubts in her mind. The idea of an arranged union was not one that usually ended happily. She gently set her book aside as she smiled at him sadly, "Is such a thing true? I wish for you to be honest with me and I shall do the same.”

Red inclined his head for a moment before brushing his fingers over the soft, cool skin of her shoulder only to find a strand of long auburn hair to toy with, "I am being honest with you my dear, that certainly seems an odd request. Do you think I am only telling you sweet words that you expect to hear?" That was exactly what he was supposed to be doing.

Frisk looked out over the water as her pink lips curled upward. A smile but one filled with sadness. He had rarely seen such an expression on such a pretty face before, “I apologize. I must keep a healthy skepticism. My heart flutters when you are near and yet it feels too good to be true.” Maybe that was because it was.

How to assuage her concerns? He truly did not know how to do so since he was the root of the deception, "Ahh I see." His back came to rest on the tree behind him as he made himself more comfortable, "I can see why... to potentially find one that we belong with. It's an amazing feeling I think. It truly feels as if nothing else matters."

The look still painted on her face gave off that aura of doubt. He could usually sweet-talk his way out of anything but she was far too sharp to fall too easily for his floral language and sweet promises. Her eyes now remained trained on the ground, “I fear I do not deserve something so wonderful.”

A comment like that shocked him. It was baffling, "why ever not my dear?" Curiosity swam within his eyes as he moved to tilt her chin up. What a sweet and pretty thing she was, so fragile and yet so strong at the same time.

“I am cursed for what runs in my blood is dark. A power unnatural and forbidden.”

A curious response, "Oh? What might that be my dear?" Forbidden? Dark? Unnatural? What could she possibly harbor that would lead her to believe that she deserved ill-fortune? The irony was that he was the worst omen she could have possibly received.

Her lips parted as she kept her attention on her betrothed, letting the word linger on the soft breeze that lifted her hair, “magic.”

A mortal with access to magic? A mage? A witch? She was rare indeed in more ways than he originally anticipated. Perhaps that was why he had been drawn to her, "Magic?" His tone housed a sufficient amount of curiosity and he wondered if now he had to be more careful. If the power of the mages slept within her blood then even his own abilities may not work on her.

She nodded softly, “Yes. It’s a part of me and it feels right and beautiful but... it’s known as something evil.” A lie she had been told nearly the entirety of her life.

As an immortal being infected by dark magic himself he knew that all too well. His past was far from joyous, "Magic.. is one of those things people will..." He sighed pulling her closer to him. How much would he be able to tell her without implicating his rather... bloodthirsty condition? She deserved some form of comfort, "The things that people do not fully understand become a threat. Even if such a thing is no more harmful than the smallest butterfly.”

He truly understood her even better than she could have hoped, “Something that they do not understand they seek to destroy or punish. Even something frightening does not mean it is evil or has ill intentions.” Her eyes fluttered open as her hands began to glow softly, when she opened them there was a small illuminated blue flower nestled in the center of her palm.

He smiled, letting a gentle finger stroke one of the magical petals, "Magic can be beautiful... It can be deadly. It is like a sword. It depends upon how you use it."

Her cheeks darkened further as he spoke, "That is what I believe as well. It is hard to try and hide who I truly am. I fear no one would understand or be afraid of me. It's why no one truly knows but when I am around you I feel as though I can speak my truth. Forgive me."

His hands reached for hers closing them around that luminescent blossom, "There is no need for forgiveness my dear. You need not hide anything of yourself from me. For I hide nothing from you." He smiled at her. Why did he care what she thought?

She scooted a little closer to him as his arm came to wrap around her as he held her closer to him. That gentle breeze soothed her as she enjoyed the afternoon. He would be able to feel how much joy she got from just being in his company, "I have been very lucky. Perhaps this is not a curse after all.”

He had a desire to say more but he kept his words simple, comforting, “Of course it is not. It is a natural part of you that should be nurtured not diminished. You shall never have to fear such judgment from me.” For I am something far worse.

Frisk rested her head gently against his shoulder feeling free from whatever chains kept her prisoner before, “I know. No one has ever looked at me the way you do it’s...” She toyed with the hands resting in her lap, “Nice to know you accept me for who I am.”

He smiled. "Of course I will Frisk. You are quite wonderful.”

She rested there in silence with him. It was so peaceful and all the following days were the same. They both began to know each other better just by speaking their minds. She even practiced some magic when they were alone so that she no longer lived in fear of it.

When the day of the wedding arrived everything seemed to go by smoothly. She had been nervous at first but the moment she said "I do" he could see it was one of the happiest moments of her life.

In the depths of his mind, he thought it was the dumbest choice she could ever have made, but his face remained with an overjoyed smile, exactly what was expected.

Even...perhaps...

When he pulled her toward him for the kiss that would seal their vows, he felt something. This was far more than just a childish game of superiority. She could be different and then this wretched cycle could end.

Until death do us part

There was only one problem...

Death... had already parted them…

#undertale #sans x frisk #frans #underfell #vampire prompt #writing #drabble #part 1 #quick little thing #Welcome to the Underworld #WTU #red x frisk #It feels good to write for the OTP #vampire sans #gothic #edited #curious how this returns...I wonder why~

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all-or-nothing-baby · 5 years ago

Note

Would love to see you do U with Destiel

Mini-fic prompt-fill. The letter U is "Coming Home".

@avidbkwrm For you, Spencer... here you go, my friend <3

_____________________________

The Last Time

Tags: Dean POV, Modern AU, Drug and Alcohol Misuse, Prostitution, Hurt With Comfort, Angst With A Happy Ending.

_____________________________

Getting back to his shitty apartment afterwards was always the worst part.

It wasn't the peeling wallpaper that bothered Dean. He didn't care that there were only bare floorboards splashed with spilled paint in the bathroom. Couldn’t even give a shit that the wet rot, in the corner above the sofa, was probably the cause of his perpetual cough. And yeah, okay, so he knew the fuck-ton of weed he smoked, on top of the booze, didn’t exactly help. And no, it didn’t exactly make him forget, either. But it did help him to give less of a shit about how shitty he felt.

...until the next time.

Cas was a drug. Dean had known it from the start, had known he shouldn’t get involved. Known he’d end up losing people too, if he did. And he had. But fuck, after that first time? He was hooked. A junkie. Now, he was so far fucking gone it was scary because being with Cas was better than anything Dean had ever had. And whenever Dean wasn’t tangled up in sheets and smiles, all sticky, with him? He was in hell. Especially right afterwards… the instant craving was unbearable. Still tasting his sharp citrusy taste; smelling of bubble gum and baby wipes, just like him; running his rough fingertips over the pink and tender places he'd been claimed. Yeah, Cas was the drug Dean didn’t know how to quit. And Jesus, he didn’t want to, which was worse.

Yet still, at first, he'd swear every visit was the last.

…until the next time.

Dean had lived all over, growing up. Cheap hotels and motels, trailer parks. And worse. Never knew what it was to settle and lay roots. Cas told him he'd been raised the polar opposite: huge family, a single home his whole life. Until his folks had found out he liked dicks not chicks and tried to bible-bash it outta him, quite literally. Cas had left and never contacted them again. And it turned out, being where he was now was better than being on the streets.

Really don't know why I'm telling you all this, he'd said to Dean after only the second time. Maybe it's just those kind eyes? he'd smiled. But I'm sorry, you're not paying to hear about my screwed-up life in a sob-story… want me to fuck you now, baby?

Dean had never gone with a sex worker before. Hated the idea—not for him, exactly, but for them. The idea that some people thought they were worth so little that they'd sell themselves? It horrified him. But walking out that bar that night and seeing that dark, unruly hair and those blue, blue eyes heading straight for him, coming for him...

Hey, beautiful, wanna spend the night with an angel?

No such thing, Dean had tried. But it had come out as a question, a challenge. An almost prove me wrong, please—and with a smile he couldn't have helped if he'd tried.

The man—dressed in a long coat, black boots and tight jeans; the crispest of white shirts with a low slung tie; and an eight o'clock shadow Dean instantly craved to leave a tingle on his inside thighs—had smiled back and said, that's your problem, beautiful. You have no faith.

By the time Dean had left the No-Tell room later that night—left Jimmy, as he'd called himself back then—Dean was born again. His belief suddenly so strong, he'd gone back to his apartment and goddammit he'd prayed.

But for the days that followed, the guilt was overwhelming. Dean had hoped beyond hope he'd be strong enough to stay away from the stranger he now wanted to help; to take away from this dangerous life, this mess Jimmy had gotten himself into... No. Dean told himself he wouldn't go back. It was wrong, on so many levels. Shit, he didn't even know the guy from Adam and yet, what, he wanted to save him?

Dean actually did actually managed to keep his distance, for a time. For a little while, he thought sense had won out.

...until the next time.

After that, Dean became fucking devout. Being with Jimmy—with Cas—very quickly became more than a one-sided thing… it became about not just fucking, but enjoying each other. Them tasting and devouring each other. Holding out for one another. Worshipping each other. Had the tables now turned? Was Cas really the angel he'd said he was and Dean, the sinner who needed saving? For the two hours a week that Dean could barely afford, Dean was happy. They'd often spend time just talking, tracing patterns on the others skin. As contradictory and ironic as it was, being with Cas? It honest to God felt holy. Dean was a better man when with him. Wanted to do better because of him. Felt more himself than he ever had before. And soon, inevitably, every time he'd leave Cas, it was ten times harder than the last.

...until the next time.

The night Dean saw the bruises was the night he'd started thinking seriously about it.

Doesn't usually happen, Cas had promised. Like it was nothing. Dean called bullshit, his voice tinged with anger. But he was mostly completely fucking heartbroken. He felt helpless. Dean had kissed each purpling mark with gentle lips and stroked that untamable hair for over his allotted time slot. Paid the extra. Told Cas dumb jokes that Cas laughed at regardless. They watched some TV together on Dean's phone, tied up like a pretzel.

Turned out Cas had... refused to fulfill some specific act and the disgruntled john had complained to Cas' twisted pimp, Naomi, who'd then set her muscle on him. They were supposed to just scare me a little—well, a lot, Cas had smiled sadly. Maybe swirlie me or choke me out, you know? They weren't supposed to beat him. To mark him. He'd admitted, the clients don't like that—well, most of them, anyways. Some were sicker fucks than others. After ten months, Dean knew that by now.

Soon after, Dean had started working longer shifts at the restaurant, always asking for overtime. It meant they sometimes couldn't meet, or maybe only had an hour together instead of two, what with Cas' workload being not exactly flexible. It was tough. And maybe not just on Dean? Cas almost seemed disappointed whenever Dean told him he wouldn't be seeing him as usual. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on Dean's part. He'd thought they'd had a connection but... Dean didn't have the words to ask. So he'd just hoped Cas understood. He seemed to, mostly. But sometimes, he'd get that look in those baby-blues. The one that said, you've lost faith in me Dean. And, at one point, Dean worried this just couldn't work. That maybe he'd lost what little faith he had in himself. That Cas probably had no faith in Dean to begin with.

...until the next time.

Dean wasn't sure if it had been a slip. An accidental admission. He'd been so close, so many times, to uttering the words himself. But he'd never imagined Cas letting his guard down in that way. And honestly? Dean had stopped allowing himself to think about the possibility of it being a reality at all.

I love you Dean, Cas had whispered in a breath. And then Dean found that he couldn't breathe at all, the air in his lungs leaving in a rush. Time stopped and for a moment everything was the way it should be. Just them and this…. and then Dean realised, Cas probably just needed the money. Wanted Dean to start coming back more regularly because he always paid well. Dean treated Cas well, too. And what if the other clients were rougher, meaner? Yeah, these things. Dean knew they were the real reason Cas had said what he'd said. Not some accidental slip.

But it didn't really matter, not to Dean. He'd already made up his mind. So, he'd said nothing. Pretended he hadn't heard.

...until the next time.

Dean packed up the few things he owned. Left all the crappy furniture he'd accumulated in the equally crappy apartment he hated, got in his car and didn't look back.

They made love, because he knew it would probably be the last time. Dean savoured every second with Cas. Hoped his long licks and trembling bites, soft moans and desperate squeezes told Cas everything Dean knew he still had to say, so he wouldn't have to… but, as astute as his angel in a trench coat was, Cas couldn't read minds.

So, Dean dressed. Then, chewing at his bottom lip, emptied the bag he'd brought with him onto the bed. Cas' eyes blew wide at the sight of all the bills that spilled from Dean's largest duffle.

I can't do this, Cas, he blurted. Can't let my decisions be controlled by some high and mighty less-than-human asshole anymore. So I'm... leaving. And I ain't comin' back... and he only stopped to take a breath, steal his courage, because there was more to the speech he'd planned—but Cas cut him off there.

It's okay, I was waiting for this. Knew it was probably coming, Cas said flatly. Then he spat, but, Dean, do you really think I want your fucking money? God, I was so foolish to think that maybe you... Just, please leave, Dean. Leave and let me keep the ounce of dignity I'm managing to hang on to. Cas turned away from Dean now. Wouldn't let him see those pretty blue eyes.

Then Dean said it. Cas, I want you to come with me. Don't know where, but I wanna get you outta this.

Dean knew he had to do more. Say more. Cas needed the words neither had really spoken; had rarely been said to either of them. Hell, Dean needed to say them just as much.

Not able to look directly at the man who meant everything to him—too scared, too cowardly—Dean said, I love you, Cas. Like nothing else. And I know you only said it to me 'cause you thought you had to... but it's okay. I don't mind that you don't. I just wanna… I gotta help you be safe, man. Away from here. Please let me. Then you can go wherever you like, do whatever you wanna and I'll—

A small sob cut Dean's speech short. He looked up at Cas as, terrified his words had maybe had the opposite effect. But Cas flew at Dean, threw arms around Dean's neck and held onto him, speaking quiet yes, yes, yeses, into the shoulder of Dean's leather jacket.

They left via the fire escape.

...it was the last time.

Dean drove them into and through the night, Cas gripping his free hand tightly, not letting go. Not even once.

After two more days on the road, when they were about to leave the state, Dean asked Cas, where to?

Cas said, take me home.

Unsure of what it meant but sure about this—about them—Dean asked, where is home, sweetheart? because he knew he'd do whatever it took to be with this man.

Cas looked out of the window for a moment and smiled. Then, laughing gently, he looked back at Dean and told him, anywhere you take me, baby.

#destiel #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #modern au #tw: mentions of drug misuse #tw: alcohol #tw: prostitution #hurt with comfort #angst with a happy ending #long post #the last time #my words #lucy's writing #all-or-nothing-writes #all-or-nothing-baby #ask prompt #prompt fill #for my lovely friend

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scarlettwitcher · 5 years ago

Text

You’re Mine Omega Chapter One

Summary: Jensen had everything he wanted in life except the one thing he needed: his omega. After a fateful encounter, Jensen has to make a life changing decision for himself, his omega, and his wife.

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Danneel Ackles, Reader, brief mention of other cast members and Cliff

Word Count: 2732

Warnings: Lots and lots of angst, growling(?), mentions of ruts and heats

Author’s Note: It’s finally here everyone! I’m finally going to release the first chapter of YMO. It’s going to be a relatively small series buuut the chapters will be long AF. I really do encourage lots and lots of feedback since I am starting to doubt my writing, cause self deprecation. If you’d like to be added to any tag list, including forevers, please let me know. And as always, Thanks for reading babes!

Carry on my wayward son

There’ll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don’t you cry no more!

“You’re missing the finale! Get your ass in here before I drag you by your hair!” You couldn’t believe your roommate was missing the intro. You popped a handful of popcorn into your mouth as you felt your heart beat faster after every lyric. You couldn’t help the small whines that left your mouth every time you saw his emerald eyes on the screen. You wouldn’t ever admit it but you were enamored with the big Alpha that appeared on one of your favorite shows. You didn’t know what attracted you so much to him but you knew you felt the pull. You couldn’t even bring it up to your roommate as you knew she would make fun of you but she knew and it was a silent rule to never bring it up. It was strange for Omega’s of your age to be unmated but then again, you were 23 and not getting any younger. Your roommate appeared a few minutes later and plopped down next to you on the couch as you both watched the finale of Supernatural together.

*~*

“Jensen!” Jensen was on the side talking to the director when Jared walked in, calling him out.

“Yeah, Jare? What’s up?” Jensen made his way over to Jared who was stuffing his face at the snack table. “Hey! So I’m going to the airport in an hour. You’re coming with me right?”

“Oh yeah… Hiatus. I forgot. Yeah, I’ll join you. I have the tickets.” Jared nodded as he took a second to finish eating before talking.

“Good. I’m sure both wives will be excited. I’ve been dying to get back to my Omega. Her heat will hit soon and I want to be home to take care of her.” Jensen gave Jared a tight smile as he thought about home. Danneel wasn’t his Omega, she wasn’t even an omega. After searching for his Omega for so long, he knew if he didn’t settle down, he’d become feral. He met Danneel, a sweet beta, and settled down. Jensen knew she wasn’t his true mate but they both knew that going in and always knew, that if the opportunity ever came and Jensen met his true Omega, he’d be free to pursue her, at least, that’s what they agreed on years ago.

“Yeah.. Yeah man I get it. Take care of your girl.” Jared sighed as he watched his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder, concern etched on his features. “You’re close to your rut, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…and every time, it gets harder.” Jensen let out a sigh as he looked at Jared with somber eyes. “Every time they hit, I feel it. I’m starting to lose control. As much as I love Danneel, she’s- it’s not enough.” Jensen dragged a hand down his face as he placed both hands on his hips as he stared at the floor. “It’s taking a toll on both of us. I’ve been thinking of ending things, just accept my fate."

"Don’t talk like that. Look, I think you just need a few days off, take a break from work. Go home and enjoy yourself as much as you can. We have a convention next week. You always love going to those. Seeing the fans, the hotels, the panels, even the photo ops bring a huge smile to your face. I’ll let the crew know you’re close to your rut, in case it hits during the convention, so we can take the precautions. I’ll see you in a bit man.” Jared gave Jensen a reassuring smile as he now had both his arms on his shoulders, before pulling him into a bro hug. Jensen nodded as he let out a shaky breath. After saying their goodbyes, Jensen walked over to his trailer and packed his few belongings, purposely taking his time, knowing he really didn’t want to be home. The guilt started to creep up into his head, knowing Danneel deserved so much better than what he was giving.

A week after arriving home, Jensen couldn’t help feeling distant towards his wife. It wasn’t her fault but he couldn’t bring himself to even touch her. He knew he was hurting her but he just couldn’t. Jensen had his moments every time his ruts hit. He wanted to be away from everyone. But knowing that this was the first convention of the tour they were doing, he just couldn’t miss it. Of course, they’d go easy on him considering his state. Danneel tried to offer to help him through it but she knew it only fell on deaf ears. The day before he had to leave for his flight, Jensen waited by the door, Cliff on his way to pick him up to take him to the airport. He had his bags ready since the beginning of the week which was when he had arrived from Vancouver. Waiting by his door and checking his phone two or three times every minute, Danneel approached him to say goodbye. “I know you’re going to be gone for a few weeks and then go back to filming but… Do you think they could give you a few days off? Be home for a bit? I feel like we really haven’t had much time together. We can plan a small getaway… Go to our cabin even? I miss you.” Danneel caught herself whispering the last part, knowing her husband was now slipping through her fingers. She bit her lip as she slowly inched closer, resting her hand softly on Jensen’s bicep.

He instantly tensed at her touch and couldn’t bring himself to relax as he clenched his jaw. He took a deep breath, looking at her hand on his arm, before looking at her. He had heard the last part and felt his resolve lessen more and more. He couldn’t take all the guilt swirling through his body, knowing he was making her suffer. He knew what he had to do but he didn’t have the strength to do it. Jensen sighed softly as he nodded, and swallowed thickly before speaking. “I’ll see what I can do.” Danneel looked a tad bit hopeful as she nodded softly, taking what he gave her, before pulling her hand away and wrapping it around herself. She heard the distinct honk of a car and knew Jensen had to leave. She watched him grab his bag and open the door. He sighed and stopped halfway out the door as he looked at her. Jensen was starting to look how he felt. Dark eyes, uneven scruff, sad eyes. Danneel felt a pang in her chest, knowing why he looked so defeated but didn’t dare utter a word about it. It had caused countless fights in the past and that was the last thing anyone needed. Jensen licked his lips, his mind racing with all the words he wanted to say, the words he needed to say, but after careful thought, he only said what he knew she needed to hear. “I’m sorry.. for everything. I’ll see you soon. Take care of yourself.” With that, Jensen nodded softly and left closing the door behind him. It was going to be a long weekend for him.

*~*

You couldn’t stop the bright smile that appeared on your face as soon as your eyes fluttered open. It was the day of your first big convention and the excitement was bubbling all over your body. You’d finally meet your hunter heroes. You jumped out of bed and ran into the shower, giddy from your head to your toes. You made sure to scrub extra hard, shave, and even exfoliate which you never, ever did but it was a special occasion. Once you were done in the shower, you made your way to your room, making sure you had your small luggage packed. Even though the convention was happening in your city, you and Emily were going to stay in the hotel where the convention was held. You worked so much overtime to be able to even afford a room for a few days but it was completely worth it. Once you were dry, you dropped your towel to the side and slid into your lucky underwear. You sat at your vanity as you stared at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds. You patted your cheeks gently as you felt the anxiety start to creep in. You willed it away and narrowed your eyes at your reflection before pointing at your mirrored self. “Look girly, today we are going to meet the guys. Today we are not going to panic. Today we are going to look hot as fuck for our pictures.” You smiled wide and nodded, feeling enlightened with your pep talk. Making quick work, you dried your hair and curled it into loose waves and did your makeup simple enough to highlight your eyes and lips. Then you quickly changed into your favorite jeans which made your ass look great, a simple black halter top, that would hang just an inch over your jeans and your back exposed nicely, and your favorite pair of sandals. You bit your lip as you stared at yourself in the mirror and smiled, feeling confident in your look.

Grabbing your luggage and bag, you walked to your door where Emily was waiting. Once you checked you had all the passes and the tickets, you both grabbed your things, piling into your car and driving over to the hotel. Checking in and going to the room, you finished setting up before making your way back down to the convention area. You looked around in awe as everyone was walking around, looking at all of the stands and signs. It was everything you’d imagined. You loved watching all of the cosplays, stopping a few people here and there, taking pictures. Once a few hours had passed, you realized you had your first pictures of the day and decided to make your way to the line. Emily wanted to finish looking around and promised to keep in touch. You finally found the line and saw it was starting to build up, and moved quickly, securing a spot with around 20 people in front of you.

Jensen had arrived at the hotel that morning, checking in. Once in his room, he let his body collapse into the bed, groaning out. It had been a long flight and the night before with Danneel was causing a lot of grief on himself. Knowing today wasn’t about him, he got up and made sure to prep himself for the day. He evened out his beard and took a cold shower, feeling his skin starting to rise just a tad bit in temperature. Once he was ready, he met up with Jared in his room before both of them made their way down to the conference room where the convention was being held.

“Okay, so we have photo ops first thing and then a panel. Since it’s Friday, it’s a pretty chill day today. Take it easy on yourself.” Jensen nodded as he only listened, not trusting himself to speak. The handlers guided both of the men to the areas where they were needed and prepared for the first objective of the day: photo ops.

Before you knew it, the line started to move. You were too nervous. You knew the pose you wanted for the photo and you knew you looked good. What was making your stomach do thousands of flips was the idea of actually meeting the man that plagued your thoughts most days. The idea of touching him, holding him, smelling him was enough to make you have to fan yourself with the papers you’d gathered from the convention. You swallowed thickly but tried your best to calm yourself, knowing you couldn’t lose your cool. Being so into your head, you finally came back to reality and realized that you were in fact next. You took a few deep breaths, calming yourself enough to get through meeting them. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the handlers came forward and signaled you in. Passing through a few curtains, you finally entered the room. You bit your lip seeing Jensen and Jared near the corner of the room, both with their backs to you. One of the handlers approached them, letting them know you were there. Jared nodded and turned towards you with a wide smile. “Hey there! It’s nice to meet you!”

You let out a small nervous giggle as you nodded to the giant man. “I-it’s nice to meet you too. This is, uh, this is my first time at one of these. It’s exciting.” Jared laughed and nodded as he hugged you, leaving an arm on your shoulder. “Yeah, they can be. What’s your name?"

"It’s Y/n."

“Well Y/n, this is Jensen.” Jared signaled for Jensen to speak, as the man was too concentrated on looking at the floor. The man took a deep breath and took a step forward with his arm outstretched like he was going to shake your hand before slowly raising his eyes to yours. It was like time stood still. Everyone and everything around you disappeared. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt it. He felt it. Every worry, every pain that he had was gone. All that mattered at that moment was you. You couldn’t deny the fact that you felt it too. Every instinct and every part of you screamed to run into his arms and kiss him until you suffocated. But then you felt it start to boil in your lower belly. You had only known about true mates from the countless stories your mother told you as a child. That you believed them was a different story. But now, you couldn’t deny that every word your mother spoke was true. You had found your true mate and it wasn’t long until you’d go into heat. Jensen could smell it before it even began. He could smell you. Your scent was getting stronger by the second and it was now going to push him into a rut. He couldn’t stop himself. He took a step towards you and another until he was towering over you.

Jensen was now taking heavy breaths as his eyes scanned over your face wildly as if he’d look away, you’d disappear. He reached a tentative hand up towards your cheek and the moment his hand touched your skin, burst of sparks courses both your body and his. You closed your eyes tightly and leaned into his touch. Jensen would give anything to watch you seek out his touch. Before he could stop himself, he heard himself utter the word that he had on the tip of his tongue since the moment he laid eyes on you. "Omega."

Jared watched on from the back, confused as everyone watched Jensen. Nobody dared to say a thing, but Jared knew what was happening. The way Jensen touched you, spoke to you, looked at you. It was obvious to everyone around you both. Before he could take a step forward to hopefully alleviate the awkward situation, he watched you crumble forward as you cried out in pain. You didn’t expect for the cramps to hit you so quick and hard as your heat started to overtake your body. You fell into Jensen’s arms as he held you protectively against him. Jared had to react fast to get the situation under control. He took a few steps towards the couple as he held his hands up almost in surrender. "Woah Y/n are you o-” Jared jumped back as Jensen was now growling at him, baring his teeth at Jared. Jensen growled at everyone who even tried to get near you. Everyone watched in shock as Jensen held you possessively as you cried from the cramps. Losing control of you will, you grabbed onto Jensen’s shirt tightly, willing his attention to you as you cried softly. “It hurts. H-help me please… Alpha.” The moment the title left your lips, Jensen had you in his arms, running out of the room, leaving everyone dumbfounded, wondering what the hell just happened.

*~*

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean @authoressskr @sorenmarie87 @reigningqueenofwords @goldenolaf25 @giftofdreams @winchesterprincessbride @chelsea072498 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel @fictionalabyss @gabby913 @angelkurenai @sea040561 @sleepylunarwolf @smoothdogsgirl @carryonmyswansong @feelmyroarrrr @evyiione @supersassyprobablysad @sofreddie @sis-tafics @nitelotus @trexrambling @dancingalone21 @manawhaat @mermaidxatxheart @winchest09 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @mrswhozeewhatsis @just-another-busy-fangirl @lovebodymindstuff @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @chook007 @akshi8278 @evansrogerskitten @bringmesomepie56

You’re Mine Omega Tags: @janicho88 @gryffindorqueensworld @spnfamily-thewinchesters @shamelesslydean @band-and-sadness

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ladypurplejanewrynn · 4 years ago

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Beauty and the Beast (Andujane version) chapter 2

Purplejane and her aunt moved out of their hometown to a small village a week ago. All of it happend because of her uncle. After he and aunt Anastazia divorced, he took the huge amount of money with him, leaving them with only a cheap amount of money. They had no other choice than moving out since they could not afford to pay for the house. Purplejane and her aunt start it work at some bakery. Purplejane was a sweet and sassy blond brown eyed girl, who had to live with her aunt and uncle since being a baby. She never got to meet her parents or talk to them, cause they died from an unknown reason for her. Her aunt and uncle didn’t know anything either. They got only told that they died and that was all they knew. Overtime, uncle Erwin start it drinking a lot and got addicted to alcohol which was the reason of the divorce. Now the young girl was 18 years old, but soon she will be 19 years old. She helped her aunt a lot in the bakery, especially when she had to deliver the order. One day, when she was delivering an order, a guy start it flirting with her. His name was Gaston. He was a very arrogant and a really full of himself man. "Hey there, little girl. May i know your name?" asked the man. "Is Purplejane. Can i help you with something?" answered the girl. "Well, there is something that you could help me with." answered Gaston. "And what would that be exactly?" asked Purplejane. "Could you like go out with me?" asked the man. Purplejane smirked:"Sorry, but i’m not interested." Then she went away without even looking back. But that wasn’t the end of it.

Everytime Gaston had the chance, he came up to her and tried flirting with her again. But she turned him down every single time, not because it made her feel uncomfortable but because she simply wasn’t into arrogant man who think they can do whatever they want. But she had to admit to herself that even thought his personality was rotten, he was pretty charming. But one day, he went too far to a point she told him to stop flirting with her. "I don’t get it. Why do you play so hard to get? Come on, don’t tell me you’re not into this beautiful face." said Gaston. "You know, the look isn’t the most important thing in the world. Beside, I’m not into men who thinks they can get anything they want and that treat women like a trophy. So, I’m gonna say this once and you better listen to me sir. You and I will never be a thing. Get that thing inside your head and stop trying to win me over, because that will never happend." said the girl with a calm tone even thought she was really pissed and she left the man standing all shocked. There was never a girl that could resiste his charm, but Purplejane was a lot different. She came back to the bakery and told her aunt about the whole Gaston situation. She knew she could always count on her. Aunt Anastazia hugged her to comfort her and told her that she did the right thing about turning him down.

One day, aunt Anastazia had to go get a missing ingredient for the recipe she was making, so she left the bakery in Purplejane’s hands. She took a horse and ride it straight to Elwynn Forest. She needed to get some berries. When she arrived, she start it pick berries. When she finished, she was about to get on her horse when suddenly she heared a noise. She looked around, but didn’t see a thing. Then out of surprise a bunch of wolfs jumped at her. She dodged the attack and was about to get on her horse, but the wolfs scared the animal to a point it run off. The woman start it running away while the wolfs chased her. She was running until she fell and was unable to get up because she twisted her ankle. The wolfs attacked her with their claws, she tried to defend herself but she couldn’t do much. There were many of them and she was alone with a twisted ankle. A moment later she lost her consciousness from the deep injuries. The wolfs were about to finish her off when suddently a large figure showed up and scared them off with their growl. When the wolfs run away, the creature got out of the shadow. It was the Beast who was no one else than the young king Anduin. He looked at the injured woman and took her to his castle to take care of her injuries.

#world of warcraft #anduin wrynn #king of stormwind #purplejane sparkdust #oc x canon #purplejane wrynn #queen of stormwind #wow #andujane #fanfic #PJ’s stories #anduin x purplejane #aunt Anastazia #Beauty and the Beast au

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dead-inside-mcgee · 5 years ago

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Beyond that door - Part 3

Red Flags

I know it’s been like 6 months since I updated this fic but I’m actually proud of this idea and this quarantine is hitting hard

Summary: He was alone with someone with the motive, the means, and possibly even the desire to kill him. And yet that’s not what Chase was anxious over.

Word Count: 1951

Taglist: @rabbitsartcorner @caori-azarath @murder-schmurder

On top of the tallest building in town, there stood Jackie, staring up at the moon. He was in his casual outfit, a red hoodie and jeans, along with an old, brown flat cap.

He checked his watch every few seconds. There was a soft creak as the door leading up here swung open.

“You’re late,” Jackie growled, hardly in the mood to put on his usual, bright and cheery facade.

The man said nothing.

Jackie checked his watch again. “Do you know where he is?”

“He told me he had plans tonight.”

“It’s just like that bastard to make plans when he knew I wanted to meet up.”

“Why exactly did you call this meeting?” The man stepped out into the moonlight, keeping his distance from the edge of the building.

“I don’t know, Jameson, why did I call this meeting?” Jackie hissed, turning to give him a sharp glare.

Jameson gulped, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his brow.

The Superhero groaned, sitting down and swinging his legs over the edge.

“S-so I’m guessing you have had no luck finding the puppet?”

“Clearly.”

“Ma-maybe I can help!” Jameson proposed. “I can send the police out on the streets. Or-or make a public announcement, get people looking. A thousand eyes are better than two. Or four I guess counting um…”

He trailed off as Jackie stood up and turned towards him. The superhero laughed, a cold, joyless noise. “Oh Jameson.” He shakes his head, stepping forward to put a firm hand on his shoulder.

“If the town knows something is up with the puppet, then they’ll get suspicious. And when people are suspicious they get scared. And when people are scared they do stupid things.” His grip tightened. “Your one and only job is to keep quiet, and cover up our work, and in exchange, everything you desire will be yours. Your heart is in the right place, put it’s time to get your head there too.”

With that, Jackie let go and casually walked off the edge of the building, disappearing into the abyss and leaving Jameson with his thoughts.

***

This was not a date, Chase told himself. This was absolutely not a date.

After work, Anti met him in the parking lot and insisted that if Chase wouldn’t let him replace Chase’s broken phone, that he at least should join him for dinner.

This was clearly a trap of some kind. Anti would kidnap him, or poison him, or even just stab him in the back while he was distracted. But Chase was already quite distracted. Anti took a half mumbled, stuttery maybe as a yes and it was date.

I mean not a date.

Just a simple little get together so Chase could learn more about Anti. He would keep on guard and eat as little as possible. Make excuses and get back to Marvin as soon as possible.

Nothing could go wrong.

Except of course everything.

Chase expected to be taken to some run down burger shop. The kind of place where you could easily slip poison or a drug into someone's food and no one would bat an eye. Or the kind of place you’d die from a heart attack just by looking at the grease flavored burgers.

He was not expecting to be taken to the kind of place you bring a long time partner for your anniversary.

Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it was much nicer than anywhere Chase would normally get food. That was the first red flag. Well actually around the tenth red flag, but the first since the absolutely-not-a-date started.

They were seated at a table and given menus full of foods that Chase couldn’t even begin to pronounce. He ordered the only food he recognized, the waiter not so subtly cringed at his pronunciation, and then he was left alone with a possible killer, or at least someone who worked with one.

His brain screamed at him to say something, start a conversation, do anything but sit there and awkwardly stare at Anti.

“Are you alright there?” Anti asked, “You look a little red. Do you have a fever or something?”

Chase glanced at his reflection in the fancy appetizer plates.

“I’m f-fine!” He cringed at his voice crack. “I’m just a little warm, th-that’s all!”

“Are you sure? You were red faced earlier as well.” He gave him a sympathetic look that made Chase’s stomach twist. “I can ask them to bring in a fan if it would make you more comfortable.”

“No!” He shouted loud enough to get some looks from other patrons. “I mean that won’t be necessary. I’m going to use the bathroom.” He stood up and made a dash for the restrooms.

In the bathroom Chase splashed some cold water on his face and tried to get a hold of his beating heart. He was afraid. No that’s not the right word. Anxious.

He was alone with someone with the motive, the means, and possibly even the desire to kill him. And yet that’s not what Chase was anxious over.

His face felt hot and his heartbeat was wild. He’d only felt this way once before and… well he’d rather not think about that.

Taking a deep breath, Chase exited the bathroom and bumped right into Anti.

“Oh! There you are. I wanted to check on you and tell you that our food and drinks are here. Everything alright?”

Chase nodded, still holding onto that breath.

Anti was acting overly nice, there were three possibilities when it comes to why. One, he knows Chase saw him but doesn’t know Chase recognized him. Two, he knows Chase saw and recognized him but is trying to throw him off. Or three, he didn’t know Chase saw him at all and is actually being nice to him.

He could cross out the last one because why would someone like Anti be nice to him.

He sat down, barely picking at his food. He’d learned a trick from years of “eating” his grandad’s “cooking.” Take a few small bites, shift your food around, and constantly chew even if you’re chewing on nothing.

“Do you like movies?” Anti asked.

“Uhhh… Yeah.”

“Would you care to join me for a movie at my place? It’s perfectly okay if you say no.”

That was the second red flag. Or the third? There’s a lot of red flags.

No one in their right mind would go to a secondary location when it comes to dealing with a potential criminal. But Chase wasn’t in his right mind, and he said yes.

Anti lived in an apartment two floors above Chase’s, which was too close for comfort. At least he had a nearby place to hide if he needed to make a run for it.

The apartment was much nicer than Chase’s, just like everything Anti owned. Which raised the question on how Anti afforded all this when the two had virtually the same job.

They sat on the couch, Anti scooting up a little too close. “You can pick the movie. Want any popcorn?”

“No thanks.” He really wasn’t in the mood to be poisoned tonight.

“Well feel free to pop a bag yourself whenever you like.”

Chase picked a random movie that turned about to be a really interesting horror movie about a family who believed they were haunted by the ghost of their dead daughter that was shot in the form of a documentary, but Chase couldn’t relax enough to enjoy it.

Anti’s phone rang in the middle of the scene where the son admits he photoshopped the pictures that showed her ghost because he wanted to give his parents hope.

“I have to take this.” Anti said, getting up and going into the kitchen.

Chase waited a moment before getting up and pressing his ear to the door. He could only get a few snippets of the conversation.

“... I can’t tonight… have you checked… I’ve got other plans… Not my responsibility… Figure it out!... Tell him I said…” He could hear Anti pacing around the room while talking. He couldn’t hear much more through the door and over the sound of the parents figuring out that they’re daughter might’ve been murdered by their neighbor.

He could hear Anti huff and start walking back towards the door. Chase rushed to sit back down and look focused on what was going on.

Anti came back with that usual grin and took his seat. “Sorry about that. A friend of mind was having some issues.”

“It’s okay.” Chase mumbled, checking the time on the wall.

***

9:30. About five and a half hours after Chase’s shift ended and Marvin has been nervous for all 19,800 seconds of that.

Every creek of the stairs caused him to jump to his feet. Every notification on his phone caused him to drop whatever he was doing and check on it, even though he knew Chase didn’t have a phone. It was starting to get on Henrik’s nerves, who was trying to see how quickly he could put together a jigsaw puzzle.

Marvin wasn’t a paranoid or unreasonable man, so he claimed. He knew that Chase was tougher than he looked, and he could handle himself if he got into trouble.

Maybe something came up at work and Chase had to do an unreasonable amount of overtime. Maybe Chase’s boss would give Chase a day off for said overtime and they could spend the day together. Not that Marvin would force Chase to spend his day off helping Marvin unravel a conspiracy.

Maybe Chase just had better things to do. He shouldn’t expect Chase to care about this as much as he does.

Or maybe Chase was attacked by someone and was currently being kidnapped or bleeding out somewhere with no way to call for help because Marvin smashed his phone.

“I can’t take it anymore!” Marvin screamed, causing Henrik to jump to his feet in alarm.

“I can’t take this either.”

Marvin put on his coat and started up the stairs. “I’m going to check on Chase. You stay here.”

“Like hell I am!” Henrik chased after him.

“You’ll be recognized almost immediately!”

“Like you won’t.”

Marvin bared his teeth before sighing. He placed his hat on Henrik’s head. “Keep that pulled over your face and stay behind me.”

They walked quickly, only passing the occasional druggie and late straggler. They snuck past the lady at the front desk of Chase’s apartment building and Marvin let himself into his house.

The apartment was clean by Chase’s standards, which were not the same as Marvin’s standards, who kicked an empty soda can around.

“Chase!? You home!?” Getting no answer, Marvin walked around the house twice, while Henrik picked up trash.

“He’s not here!” Marvin said on the verge of panic.

“I figured. Do you think he was ever here at all?”

Marvin looked around the room and thought for a moment. Before he went underground there were things he’d picked up from being around Chase.

One, he would turn on the TV and leave it on until he went to bed, and two, he would make a mess of containers on the counter for dinner, but would clear the counter off when he made breakfast in the morning. The TV was off and the counter was clear, so it wasn’t hard to say that Chase hadn’t even made it home today. Which means he was doing an unreasonable amount of overtime, or something horrible was happening.

“Shit.”

“Tell me about it.” Henrik huffed, shoving junk food wrappers into the trash.

“Come on, we need to get out of here. I don’t know where we’re going next.”

#jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #henrik von schneeplestein #marvin the magnificent #marvin the magician #chase brody #jackieboyman #jackieboy man #jackie boyman #my fic #beyond that door

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hereforaus · 6 years ago

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Now Breathe

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: bodyguard!jungkook , rebel!reader , numb!reader, smut, angst

“people invading your personal space is one of the top most annoying thing to ever exist on earth and your overprotective politician mother hiring a personal bodyguard for you didn’t help at all”

wordcount: 2k+

WARNINGS! : 18+ , foul languages, smut and violence on future episodes

A/N: this is my first fic and i hope yall like it. This is completely unedited but i want to post it now. This part is just an introduction to reader’s pesonality. Literally all the happenings is to describe her as a person. The plot is so so far from unfolding so yeah,,,message me if you want to be tagged for the next episodes : )

part 2

“Mom please!!!! just this once okay? I promise i’ll come home all in one piece”

You’re practically giving your all with your little show of being in so much pain in front of your mom just so she can let you go to the concert you’ve been dreading to attend eversince forever with no company from her baggy shabby body guards.

“Im telling you I’ll be okay without those unnecessary bouncer looking body guards of yours. Just this once please? huh? huh?”

“First of all those body guards are skilled okay? don’t underestimate them.” Oh yeah here she is again. You have to remind yourself to not roll your eyes in front of her for you to not lose your last hope of getting a peaceful concert experience without some random guys boring holes at the back of your head the whole time. “And second, what makes you think I’m letting you get outta this house without those body guards when that concert is practically a 3 hour drive from here?”

Sigh. You already know where this is leading.

“Take it or don’t attend sweet pea, no more argument and go to bed please it’s close to midnight you still have classes tomorrow.”

What else can you do? Oh yeah nothing.

That said night, you have to climb down your way out of your room so you can have a peaceful time with yourself on the seaside. You like being alone most of the time to get things done with your art and music but sometimes the silence in your room is becoming too much for you to the point that it suffocates you and the only thing that can really help you is a fresh air and the cold but soothing sea breeze. Environment is a medicine, you don’t know if that works for other people but for you it surely does.

“I don’t know but he just told me he wants space for now and that we both have to cool down for a while.”

Lea. She’s been your friend eversince primary school. How she managed to endure you through out these years is still a mistery for you but you love her nonetheless. She’s one of the most precious things in this world that you can’t afford to lose. She’s like a treasure that you so luckily found under the sea and you don’t understand why of all people who is deserving of her, you’re the luckiest one who found her.

“Maybe he needs time to breathe? You know sometimes things become too stuffy for us and all we need is to breathe?” he doesn’t feel thrilled anymore. His heart doesn’t beat fast the way it did like before. He’s not happy anymore.

“You know we can talk about it. He doesn’t have to go through it alone. We can fix everything that’s wrong together” You hate to see her like this, completely helpless and vulnerable in front of you. The before sparkly now glassy eyes, a true indication of pain, confusion and frustration

“You know there are times when you need to help each other to find the way out of the misery but there are times where you need to find yourself first in order to do it right and for that to happen a person needs to spend time with their self alone” he doesn’t want to figure it out with you because he already knows the answer

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe he needed time to think and find himself first.”

I wish that’s really the case.

“But it hurts that I have to wait for him to fix something that I don’t know what is. He’ll have to find himself while leaving me alone in this misery, waiting for him to fix it without knowing if he will comeback after he find the answer.”

“Time can fix anything you know.” but not everything. “so give him that” cause you don’t have any choice but to.

The shiny glass covering her eyes has now broke into tears and sobs. You really hate this. You wanted to tell everything that’s in your mind without hurting her further but how could you tell someone that you don’t believe in love? that there’s no such thing as falling in love and falling out of love because you believe that falling in love in the first place is just all made up by some weird ass part of the body called brain and nothing more. How could you tell her that a person’s feelings can never be the same overtime and that the only constant thing that she could hold into is change alone.

No you can’t tell her. You don’t wanna be the reason for her tears and as much as possible you don’t want her to feel numb. You don’t need another person like you. You want her to feel different things other than not feel anything at all. Numbness will save you from the pain but feeling is a strange thing that can make a person happy, something that you lost a long time ago.

You let her lean on your shoulders until your shirt is soggy and waited until her sobs turned into small whimpers and hiccups. When it does you spoke: “Tell me something funny”. For a normal person, that small statement could have been strange (cause she’s supposed to be the one asking that) but somehow for the two of you, those words are the only ones that was able to put a small smile on your bestfriend’s face. She’s now lifting her head while wiping her tears using the back of her hands, a small smile imprinted on her lips.

“Never in a million years have I thought that me sobbing in front of you is the only way for you to tolerate my dad jokes. I should’ve known sooner”

“Don’t be too touched. Im giving this one for you because you look ugly crying like that and I can’t afford to wet my shirt further” You rolled your eyes, your right hand making its way to your pillow to throw it on her way.

“Hey!!! Just say you have a soft spot for me, no need to be aggressive for nothing” She’s practically grinning right now. You swear to god you wish you can shut her up already.

“If I knew you will be acting like this I should’ve just let you sob there until your eyeballs fell out”.

“If that’s what helps you sleep well at night, I’ll just bury the fact that you don’t want your dearest friend crying because it hurts you too. Who would’ve thought that Y/N has a kryptonite and that so luckily turned out to be me”

“Oh please your nacisissm suffocates me. Get out of my room now!” You said voice stern but not too much to actually hurt her.

“Goodnight love” she said seemingly happy as if she didn’t pour a whole bunch of tears just now. Just like that, she grab her bag and left with the biggest grin on her face that week but you know it’s not going to last because the moment she step foot on her constricted bedroom, the tears won’t help but fall and the sobs won’t have to ask for permission to come out relentlessly.

The following day you’re dressed in an extra large shirt partnered up with sane cargo pants and reebok sneakers. Coming out from your bedroom, you saw your mom downstairs talking to a tall man dressed in normal white tees and ripped jeans, your mom seemingly spewing words you can only assume to be reminders on how to take care of you during the concert and some precautionary measures on how to not lose you in the process. You rolled your eyes, purposely letting your stomp on the wood floor be heard to signal them to hurry up whatnot is left to be talked about. By the time you reached the door, the said man you don’t know the name (and is not planning to anyway) is already behind you. He smelled of vanilla soap and you noticed that he’s much taller than you, probably 178 to 180 cm. In no time, the both of you are already seated on the car. You took the passenger seat cause you like taking care of the music and that is most definitely your favorite spot while mister body guard took the driver’s seat. So he’s not just the body guard for the day but also the driver. This is going to be too easy.

“You know what let’s have a deal” The easiest way to get what you want is through talk and you know more than anyone else how to get the thing that you want from someone through words.

“Nice to meet you too miss Y/N. Your mother clearly is right. She warned me that you’ll have to ask me for a deal through out this whole drive in order to lose me and watch the concert alone. She knows you really well.”

Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. This won’t do. You didn’t see that coming.

“Do you really think that i’m going to pay you or something for you to let me go to the concert alone?” You fake smile towards him. The first time you see his features clearly and god is he ethereal for a body guard but that’s none of your business because clearly you have other things to fix.

“Maybe not pay? I don’t know, you seem more capable and smart than that, your mother told me”

Oh yeah your mother. You wouldn’t be surprised if she told him your whole life story.

“You’re taking your job too seriously, I was just gonna ask if I can suck your dick or something because you’re pretty hot but I guess you really are not into that kind of things.”

It’s his turn to be caught off guard. You will not back out to this, you are more capable on controlling a person just like what he says and that exactly is what you’re going to do now.

You almost missed the shade of pink on her cheeks because soon it’s gone and back to its normal shade. This person is something else, you know it. You need to step up your game in order to win it.

“I dont know your plan but i know that you’re up to something. Miss Y/N that’s not gonna work with me.”

This is harder than you thought it would be.

“Yadda yadda. Believe what you want sir” If you can’t get him with a talk, then there’s a whole other plan lined up just for him, you dont know until to what extent you can go but you surely know one thing, you’ll have the last laugh.

Two and a half drive. Thirty minutes before you reach the arena. There’s no sounds but The 1975 playing on the speaker of the car connected to your phone. Your bodyguard spent most of the hours concentrated on the road in front of him while you are lazily nodding your head to every song from your playlist, your head leaned on the window most of the time while you look at the trees and houses you pass by.

“Pull over. I need to pee” You said pointing to your right where variety of drive thru fastfoods can be found.

“Sure miss”

Sure my ass.

You’re walking in front of the restroom seperated from the restaurants when you notice your body guard suddenly came to a stop.

“Aren’t you going to come with me inside? I mean I might slip out?” You said voice mocking.

“No need miss, I’m just going to wait for you here” His voice is never not stable and you wonder just how some people can’t be like him. You like how confident he is and unflappable almost.

“You know what my offer from earlier is still up.”

He seems confused at first but in no time, he came into the realization and there comes his wide eyes and rosy cheeks on full display for you.

“You act like a virgin” And then you smirked and left. Teasing him is fun and you decided you’re up for that.

It’s not like you to throw out things just carelessly because you treasure everything under your property but you don’t have any choice now. Wrapping up all your colorful clothes together, you throw it to the bin. You’re now in your black fitted shirt and denim shorts. You decided to remove your bun too. The only reason you wore those huge ass t shirt and cargo pants is in order to have another pair of clothes inside for the sole reason of disguising and you’re pretty much sure that this time it will work. Holding your wallet containing money and two of your tickets (one from your mother and one you bought for yourself because sure as hell the ones from your mom has the seat next to your body guard), you leave the bathroom acting so casually as if your bodyguard isn’t just standing there outside the restroom.

When you reach the nearest cafe without a body following behind you, you let a smirk make its way to your face. Bingo. Now you wait for your uber driver.

You can’t be more happy. You’re going to see your favorite artist and will be able to dance like crazy without a single soul caring. Holding your ticket, you hand it to the person standing on the entrance and eventually you’re inside the venue. You chose to buy a standing ticket because you’re pretty sure that this concert will turn to a party in the middle and you want the best experience to enjoy the music that you waited for so long to hear live while your body act on its own.

Three hours and it’s almost past midnight. The band is playing their last song. You’re physically exhausted for spending the whole time singing the lyrics on the top of your lungs, screaming and dancing nonchalantly. You can feel the energy being drained out of your body. It’s a good thing that the band decided to end the whole concert with a soft melody song about heartbreak (or is it first love? you don’t know. you don’t really care since it’s your least favorite). You close your eyes listening to the song while swaying your whole body. You feel peace while listening to the soft melody and you can’t help but continue doing that until 30 seconds before the song would finish. The moment you open your eyes, you see him. His eyes, was it like this earlier? As if it holds the dust in the universe in it? His mole under his mouth, was it there earlier? Everything looks so real and clear and for a moment you thought it was real when suddenly.

“Did you enjoy the concert miss?”

“How exactly did you find me” You allowed yourself to look at him for a second before bringing your eyes back to your phone to scroll for music while again leaning your head on the window just like earlier.

“Let’s say I waited just a couple of distance from the entrance and I saw you there.”

“You’re impossible” He smiled. Oh he smiled? “So you saw all of that?”

“All of that miss”

Fuck.

“You’re a creep”

“You dance well”

At that you hiss.

“Fuck you”

He’s annoying.

“You lost in this one”

“You did your job pretty well. Let’s not see each other again. Yeah?”

“Im afraid that can’t happen”

Now you’re utterly confused. “What? Why?”

“Your mom just hired me to be your personal body guard from now on and not just for today. It’s a pleasure to serve you Miss Y/N. I’m Jeon Jungkook”

#jungkookxreader #jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bodyguard!jungkook #numb!reader #au #jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts au #bts writing #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

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alleycat97 · 5 years ago

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A Night Out Pt. 4

Description: Kamilah is taken out on the town to blow some steam off with an unlikely source, Priya. Kamilah didn’t care for an all mortal nightclub but Priya promised her it would be worth it, saying she would finally get laid in over a century.

Pairing: Kamilah x MC

Notes: Part 4 y’all! Thanks for all the positive support it means the world to me. Slight language here and there. As usual, PBs characters, General Audience.

...

After the bizarre events transpired, Aurora rushed home desperate to wash the last 24 hours down with a few stiff drinks. But, as her roommate Lily pointed out, she might as well face the woman, it was obvious her problems weren’t going to go away. And that’s when she discovered another problem. The vial with the extract for Adrian was in her pocket, she sighed and rushed back to work in hope she still had a job. Could things get any worse? Aurora thought as she got to the correct floor.

And the answer was yes, it could. For she was staring at Nicole getting fed on by... Adrian? Or what she guessed was Adrian, sending her into complete freak out mode startling the man/creature. He hissed and charged her, and she backed into a corner and begged for mercy. Nicole got up from the table and a wall of relief washed over Aurora as Adrian changed back into his human self. She spent the next 15 minutes being lectured by the two on the importance of knocking and vampire 101.

Nicole seemed most upset, I guess she was getting some kind of pleasure from the experience. So she was cold towards Aurora, and borderline hateful. She just had a traumatic experience and she was being scolded for it. Nicole kept on insisting on having her debriefed but Adrian had the say and defended Aurora. He even offered to even take her to see Priya Lacroix on official business, insisting he will pay overtime to help calm her down.

Aurora was too caught up with formally meeting Priya Lacroix, her fashion hero, to realize that she too, was a vampire. Maybe because it was the fact she was wearing a Lacroix original that was sent over to Adrian’s office. The thought of even Kamilah being a vampire didn’t register. Not only was she working for a vampire, but she slept with one too. The problems just keep stacking up.

The two stepped outside and began the walk to The Crimson Veil. The most famous studio since Andy Warhol’s Factory, and she was getting to see it! Adrian began answering the many questions about vampires that the mortal had. He explained how the clans worked, how many there was and how many were in each. He covered the vampire basics until they made it inside the Crimson Veil. And boy was it everything Aurora read about. The beautiful lights, the elevated catwalk, the celebrities...she was finally experiencing the part of New York that the average person didn’t. The part that made New York, well New York.

All eyes were on her as she caught the whispers as she passed through the crowd of people. She was the center of attention in Priya’s dress and she was stealing the show. So much in fact, that Adrian had to bring her back into the red room just so the show could keep going. He warned Aurora about Priya though, she was alluring and extremely dangerous. Aurora brushed it aside because the other night at the club with Kamilah....

“Wait....” Aurora whispered to herself. “Priya was with Kamilah. Priya is a vampire and Kamilah was in a meeting with Adrian, who is a vampire....oh my god!” Aurora yelled as she pieced the puzzle together, slightly trembling at the revelation.

“What’s wrong Aurora?” Adrian asked in concern.

Before Aurora could tell, a lovely, powerful voice bellowed through the room, “Adrian! My sweet darling! What brings you here!?”

Priya ran up to Adrian, who kissed both of her cheeks in greeting, “Marvelous show Priya, I love the new collection.”

“You’re a terrible liar! But please, keep complimenting me!” Priya smirked, finally spotting the person standing behind Adrian.

“Adrian! Did you bring me a snack? Mmhm, you shouldn’t have.”

“Priya, she is with me, this is Aur...”

“Aurora! Oh my god this is too good!” Priya laughed, confusing Adrian even more.

“How do you know her?” Adrian asked getting the wrong idea because Aurora was freaking out on her own thinking about how screwed up this was.

“Calm down Adrian. We met at the club last night. The last thing I recall, she and Kamilah were about to get close, awful close.” Priya cooed placing her finger under Aurora’s chin.

It was now Adrian who was trying to piece this together, “Wait...so you and Kamilah?”

“Oh for god’s sake Adrian! She is Kamilah’s play thing. She and Kamilah hooked up last night.” Priya laughed mocking Adrian.

All Aurora could do was hide her face in shame and embarrassment as it sunk in with Adrian, who by the looks of things, wasn’t taking it well.

“Oh this is fun!” Priya spat out in delight. “I can’t wait to tell Kamilah!”

...

It was around 3 am and Kamilah decided she could afford some sleep so she went and laid down to do so. It had been 5 minutes and her door rang, “Who could possibly be here now...” Kamilah sighed as she shuffled to the door.

She never dreamed it would be Priya. But here she was, face to face with the young vampire in her living room. Kamilah slid a drink over to Priya who accepted it with her trademark grin.

“Soooo, why are you here in my home.” Kamilah started out.

“You’ll never guess who I saw in my studio, wearing one of MY dresses.” Priya’s replied.

Kamilah sighed, this is why she didn’t hang out, all the gossip and late night chit chat expired for her years ago, but it was Priya’s forte.

“Who?”

“Aurora! Can you believe it!?” Priya clapped with a smile.

Kamilah spit her drink out, more than likely staining her carpet, but she wasn’t worried about that. “What!? Why was she there?”

“Official council business according to Adrian. I suppose it’s safe to say our secrets out. She knows about us.”

“Damnit Adrian!” Kamilah yelled. “How? How did she find out? And why is Adrian showing her our world! It’s too dangerous for her!” Kamilah stomped back and forth across her living room, “He’s so reckless sometimes!”

Priya just watched on with her smirk, not really wanting to add fuel to the fire, “Kamilah darling? Please sit you’re making me nervous.”

Oh man Kamilah was furious at Adrian. It was bad enough she slept with the girl and now has to face her almost daily as punishment, but now the said girl knows that she is a vampire!

“God she must think I’m a freak now.” Kamilah moaned as she sat, burying her face in her hands.

That was all Priya needed to hear and see from the vampire queen, “Kamilah? You really care about this mortal don’t you?” She said soft and caring, a tone that convinced Kamilah that she cared.

“What gave it away?” She asked answering the question.

“Look around you, this place is a dump Kamilah! I know how you get when you’re mad at yourself. And did you even go to work today? I swear for a woman that doesn’t age, you look like shit.”

“What are you getting at?” Kamilah said defeated, not caring on her appearance anymore.

“I’m telling you to go talk to her dummy! You haven’t got ass in over a century and when you finally did, you got attached and ran because you’re use to solitude and that’s normal. Just tell her the situation and why you ran, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Kamilah sat there for the first time emotionally unstable. She was pissed at Adrian, mad at herself for being guarded, head over heels for a mortal and now confused on why Priya was giving her a heart to heart, “What did you do with the real Priya?” She teased.

Priya smiled momentarily, “We all need someone in our life Kamilah. I know you’ve been around since forever ago, but no one is complete until they find their true partner, it’s a whole other life to live.”

Why was Priya right?! Kamilah thought about what Priya just said and finally made a decision, “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Good, cause if you don’t want her, I’ll gladly take her. I just gotta pry her away from Adrian.” Priya finally teased striking a nerve in Kamilah.

“I will murder you both if you touch her. Now please get out of my house.”

#kamilah sayeed #playchoices #kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed fanfiction #bloodbound

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