#i could walk into traffic but that would be really public and again involving others and what happens to the driver?
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scarletcomet · 2 years ago
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lil rant in tags. trigger warning for suicidal thoughts and that kind of stuff. if you feel like reading it please be aware of pretty detailed descriptions so please be careful. (also don’t worry i’m fine and not actually going to do anything. just needed to get my thoughts out)
#tw: suicide#the spot im in right now is really shitty because i want to kill myself but im not actually going to kill myself#so im stuck feeling [insert emotion idk how to describe here] and thinking about how much i want to kill myself#and thinking about all these different potential methods meanwhile i have to also function and take care of myself and do hw and shit#(which im not really doing but i need to)#i wish that i could just kill myself but i can't because of my family#and i don't really have the means to do it. ive been thinking about all these different ways but none of them are practical#i would need a rock solid plan that couldn't fail#the other thing is that it would probably take several days for anyone to notice because i don't really interact with my roommate that much#and everyone else would think i was just ignoring their texts (it sometimes takes me days to respond) and it's not super uncommon for me#to just not go to class. honestly my boss would probably be the first to notice when i don't show up to work but i could also just text her#and make up some lame excuse or quit or something (but if my attempt fails im screwed)#maybe if i took every single medication i have and downed it with a bottle of vodka i could get close but i ran out of alcohol and im not 21#i suppose i could ask someone to buy it for me but i won't want to get anyone else involved and have them feel guilty#and even that is probably likely to fail#no high roofs anywhere near me and that would be really bad if i survived#i could try to sl*t my wrists but none of the blades i currently own would be able to do the trick#what do ppl even use to do that? no blade ive ever had as been able to go deep enough to even need stitches (well maybe a few probably did)#and that is again a method that would likely fail and could leave me with nerve damage#i could walk into traffic but that would be really public and again involving others and what happens to the driver?#all the other methods i can think of involve ~materials~ i don't have access to are just aren't practical#maybe if i take enough benedryl to knock me out and take a bath but i wouldnt want to do that to my roommate#and the lock on our bathroom door doesnt work#this is a really fucked up thing to say but i wish i knew how my friend who passed away last year did it#ppl often succeed so maybe i just need to care less about it potentially failing?#this is all hypothetical of course. i can't do that to my family. i tried 5 years ago and they were really upset
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typically-untypical · 1 year ago
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Past Judgements
AU: Lawyers
CW: None that I'm aware of
WC: 1515
Date: 12/1/2023
As a public defender, it was Virgil's job to make sure everyone on his caseload was given a fair trial. He wanted to make sure everyone got a chance, especially those who couldn't afford to hire a fancy lawyer. Unfortunately, all of that was easier said then done. His caseload grew by the day and the people he helped were often not forthcoming with the truth. How could he blame them, a lot of the people he was trying to help had been torn down by a system that wasn't designed to protect them. It was a fight to convince them that he was on their side, that he wasn't there to make them look bad but rather to help them out. Sometimes, with time and effort, he could get the truth out, but he just didn't have the time. 
Straightening his purple tie, he waited for the officer to buzz him into the facility. Today's meeting was with one 'Janus Hennily', a name Virgil was surprised to see again. He had known Janus when he was younger, a student at his high school who was full of sarcasm and trickery. Janus had been... not necessarily a bully, but he certainly wasn't going to be the one who stepped in when someone was being bullied. He was more of the 'walk away and not get involved' type. Virgil wondered where that Janus had ended up. He had seemed intelligent but they had never really been friends. He had been hot though.
"Ah, Virgil Black, aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Looks like you ran off and became a lawyer. Good for you." The smooth voice echoed in Virgil's mind, it was deeper than it used to be, rougher around the edges like it had actually seen time and hardship.
Vigil's grip tightened on his briefcase, "Janus, so it is you. I'm surprised you got caught with all your running away." There was no reason for him to be so hostile, but Janus brought back high school memories; memories of him being too weak to protect himself, too weak to take care of what he needed to take care of. High school hadn't been a good time for him.
Janus put his hand to his chest, the chains around his wrists and ankles jingling as he moved. "Me, a runner, never. You should know I'm not one for physical exercise if I can avoid it. It seems like you're good at jumping to conclusions though. Were you surprised to see me here or did you expect this was where I'd end up?"
Though his face had changed, his smirk hadn't. The new scars only deepened its terrifying nature. When Janus smirked it seemed like he knew all of the secrets of the world and he was just waiting for everyone else to catch up. Too bad Virgil had seen him be a total dork in high school and that smirk lost some of its power.
With a sigh, Virgil sat down, putting his briefcase on the table. "What did you do, Janus?"
"Rude as always. Isn't it your job to prove I didn't, or do I need to ask for other counsel. It seems you already have prejudices against me." Maybe Virgil was just imagining it but it felt like Janus was actually hurt. That wasn't Virgil's intention. Honestly, he didn't know what his emotional intention was, but he knew what his job was.
"I'm here to help, and I'll do it, I just need you to be straight with me, why are you in chains?"
"Be straight? Good luck with that, I haven't been straight since Remus showed me his parents’ copy of the 1990's Mummy movie, but I can be bi with you." Janus leaned back, looking Virgil up and down. This was the worst part, people trying to avoid answering questions by deflecting or saying something shocking. 
"You're avoiding the question." Virgil scowled and Janus rolled his eyes.
"And you're not an ounce of fun. I was being honest with you, I didn't do anything, nothing illegal at least. I was at a protest, which is a protected right I would like to add, and I was arrested under charges of 'disturbing the peace', however, we weren't chanting, we weren't blocking traffic, we did everything by the book and yet we were still arrested, a true travesty." His voice wavered on sarcastic but there was something more behind it, something that hinted that Janus was tired. Virgil didn't want to get soft for this guy. Janus had run away when Virgil needed help back in school and a guy like that wasn't the protest type.
"Come on, they wouldn't keep you if they didn't think they had more on you than that. I've read through the file but something is missing. I need you to tell me what I'm not seeing or I can't help." Virgil wished Janus would just answer his question. He was the other man's lawyer, he had client attorney privileges. He wasn't going to tell anyone because that would be very much against his rules. Janus had to know this, he was the type of guy who had reveled in the details and loopholes he could get around, but he didn't seem to be reveling right now.
His shoulders had dropped and he was looking up at the ceiling. "The cop that arrested me... we have a history," Janus whispered, suddenly sitting up. "Do you know how embarrassing it is to be caught by the same pig twice, especially when the second time he had a vendetta."
"But your file doesn't-"
"I got him on a police battery charge, it was dropped and we settled out of court but he was put on suspension 2 years ago. Apparently he was let back on for 'good behavior'. When I was able to, I had it taken off my record. I don't like people being able to trace me easily. Plus, people get weird when the background check shows charges, even if they were dismissed. For fucks sake, I'm probably going to lose my job over this which means I will still feel the consequences of his actions even if they let me go. Congrats to him, officer piggy still wins, even if you manage to get me out of this." Janus sighed and did his best to put on a smile, leaning toward Virgil, "So what now, lawyer man?"
Virgil was taken back by the sudden shift from honesty to flippantness. It was almost like he could see through Janus' facade for a brief moment, but then it was gone and he could only remember the kid in high school who’d run when he needed help. It was hard to remember that people changed, but Janus had apparently changed, at least a little bit. 
"Alright, I'll look into it. If we can prove he was discriminating against you then we can seek damages. It won't get you your job back but it might get you a bit of reparations for your lost time." Doing things like this always made Virgil a little on edge. He needed to prove that not only was Janus innocent, but he had been targeted because of his past with a previous officer. "Is there anything else you want me to know before I leave?" Virgil was already starting to pack up his stuff, moving his notes into his briefcase as he started to stand. He was expecting a teasing comment or some snide remark, but he wasn't expecting Janus' quiet sincere voice.
"You grew up well, handsome, successful. I wish I had gone after you in high school."
Virgil froze in his place, completely taken off guard by Janus' confession. "You ran away when I was being bullied, I wouldn't have gone for you."
"Fair enough, but if it helps, I ran to get a teacher. No sense in having both of our faces slammed into the dirt. I'm not certain if you know this or not, but I have very little athletic ability."
Virgil snorted, shaking his head and grabbing his briefcase. "I remember, well maybe if we can prove your innocence, you can ask me out."
"You don't already have someone?" Janus looked surprised and Virgil smiled at something genuine flashing in his face. 
Virgil shook his head, "I changed my last name, but it's in memoriam. I lost my mother five years ago, Black was her maiden name."
"Oh," Janus reached out, stopped by his chains so he just sat back. "I'm sorry to hear that, I remember her being a pretty nice lady."
"Yeah, she was. She's why I wanted to be a lawyer."
"Well then, I owe my freedom to her."
"That's if we win." Virgil responded and Janus just smirked again.
"We have to, otherwise I won't be able to take you on a date."
Virgil blushed, turning and leaving as quickly as he could. He had a rule of not dating criminals, but if he proved Janus was unjustly detained, then he wasn't a criminal, right?
Right.
Tag List: @simplestoryteller @fantasticfangirl21 @joylessnightsky @glacierruler @tsspromptmonth
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jmagnabo92 · 11 months ago
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Storm of the Century
For one of two RWRB exchanges I signed up for.
My first First Prince fic :). Post Canon.
When the weather calls for the Storm of the Century, Henry makes sure to make it back home in time to be snowed in with Alex. Cue Snowed in shenanigans.
AO3
***
Storm of the Century 
Despite living on the East Coast, more specifically, New York City for the better part of five years (although only New York for one), Alex hadn’t quite grasped the concept of paying attention to the weather.  
Or more precisely, he’s gotten used to Henry paying attention to the weather for him.  Henry, unfortunately, had just texted him that his flight was delayed, and he’d get in as soon as he could, but he didn’t know when that would be, which is why Alex had donned a light jacket and taken David out for a run.  
Except due to the weather, they had gotten just far enough in the run that Alex was now a lot further than he should be when it started coming down fast and every step ran the risk of slipping and falling (which with his luck would get caught by the paps – he does not want that).  
 He stops and contemplates his options.  He could walk back, but it was a terribly long way and it’s coming down faster and faster.   He could call a secure car (he’s sure Cash is going to argue for this), but it would take ages of waiting in the worsening storm and city traffic in this weather could mean that he would walk back faster.  He could attempt the subway or a bus, but really it would still involve walking in the snowstorm to the stop, wait for the train or bus, and walk to the brownstone in the snow anyway, which seems utterly pointless.  His last option is a taxicab (Ubers for some reason are highly discouraged even more than a random taxi), so he would have to hail one like a real new yorker.  
Admittedly, since he can see them everywhere, he wouldn’t even have to move to get one and wouldn’t have to wait, a taxi is the best option – especially because he really wants to be a real new yorker, even if new yorkers don’t typically have security chasing them around all the time stopping them from dealing with the masses the same way they normally would.  
He hasn’t been in a taxi before (at least not that he can remember), so he’s eager for the experience.
Just as he comes to this conclusion, he turns to Cash, who says, “You know taxis are a security risk.”
Alex snorts as he shivers.  “I swear you can read my mind.  We can’t wait for a secure car, and the snow is getting heavier by the second.  David’s freezing – it’s hail a taxi or freeze to death.  And somehow, I think that you don’t want ‘let the First Son freeze to death’ on your Secret Service Resume.”
“I think I would change ‘first son’ to ‘little shit that wasn’t smart enough to wear a proper coat’ and the public would forgive me,” Cash jokes.  
Alex is not impressed, and Cash relents when he shivers, again.
“Fine, fine.  Hail a cab, but they are signing an NDA.”
He pulls one out of his pocket and Alex stares.  “You brought that on our run?”
“Of course I did,” Cash states.  “You tend to need them rather randomly – more so before you got with Henry, but often enough.  Now, just do it.”
Alex grins and steps to the curb to hail the taxi headed his way.  He’s never done it before, but he’s thrilled to attempt it now.  
Unfortunately, he gets skipped over by the first, second and third taxi cabs in the vicinity.
“Jesus, how do they get any fares when they skip potential fares like this?” Alex complains.
“Maybe they have people in them.”
“That last one definitely didn’t,” Alex argues as another one passes.  “I just don’t get it – they’re already obsolete with Uber and other rideshares, why make it worse by skipping fares?”
Cash shrugs.  “There could be any number of reasons, maybe they’ve been called to a location, already.  Maybe they’re done for the day and don’t want to pick up another fare.  Maybe they’re trying to avoid driving in the snow any more than they have to – given that they don’t know where you’re going, they could figure that it might be a far drive and it’s better to head home…”
“I wasn’t looking for an actual reason, Cash,” Alex interrupts.  “Just complaining.”
“Or maybe… they saw your ugly mug and figured you’d complain their ear off in the short drive to the brownstone,” Cash says, grinning.
“Oi!” Alex yells, turning back to him and away from the road.  He winces at the Britishism.  He’s been spending too much time in London (or at least around a Londoner).  
Cash teases just that, while Alex deflects, but luckily a taxi finally pulls up.  
Before he can even turn around, he hears, “Well, I certainly wish we spent more time together, and I’ll get you to speak proper English eventually.”
“Henry?” Alex asks, turning around and gleefully spotting his boyfriend in a taxi.  The boyfriend that was supposed to be overseas and unable to come home.  The reason Alex had gone on an admittedly dumb run right before a storm in a light jacket.  “How – what – oh, I don’t care,” Alex says, as the door flings open and he half hugs him, half climbs into the back of the cab barely not on top of him.  
Cash and David get in beside them, making it cramped (a PPO is in front with a clearly disgruntled cabby driver).  Once the door shuts, the cab takes off, but Alex is more focused on Henry.
“Okay – okay.  You said that you were stuck in London.  And – and you’re in a taxi… a prince in a taxi… I’m totally in shock,” Alex rambles quickly.  “Not that I’m complaining at all … the thought of weathering a storm without you is highly disappointing.”
Henry grins at him.  “Which is why when I saw the call for the storm of the century, I made sure to leave early… not early enough though to completely avoid the chaos.  When we reached the airport, we couldn’t get a car and I’ve heard you talk about being a real new yorker and hailing a cab, so I figured it was this was the best opportunity for me to get that – no one else was particularly happy, but I am.”  He notices Alex’s slight shiver, despite being in the warmth of the cab, and asks, “Why are you only wearing a light jacket when it’s zero degrees out?”
“I didn’t realize that it was that cold.  The sun went down between when I got home and when David and I decided to go on a run, and I figured it wasn’t that cold and the run would keep me warm enough.”
“So, essentially, you didn’t check the weather and note that it’s supposed to be like three days of freezing temperatures and the snowstorm of the century?  That they are warning that you shouldn’t be outside for more than five minutes once it hits?  Yet, decided a spring jacket was enough?”
Alex shrugs.  He hadn’t realized it was set to get that bad.  “I was fine until we got caught in the storm.”
Henry’s not impressed, but Alex doesn’t care as they pull up in front of the brownstone.  “Well, at least we saw you and picked you up before you could freeze to death.”
“I wasn’t going to freeze to death – Cash wouldn’t let that happen, it’d be bad for his secret service resume.”
He spares a look at Cash, who snorts as he gets out of the cab and gets the NDA stuff sorted (even though the cabby would have had to sign one for Henry).  It’s still nuts that there’s all this paperwork sometimes, but getting it signed after a cab ride is a lot better than getting it signed after a one-night-stand.  
God, those nights had been so embarrassing at times.
Still, at least now he doesn’t have to worry about that, Alex thinks as he and Henry head into their home with David leading the way (after a quick thank you to the driver).  It was honestly embarrassing to think of Cash or Amy collecting phones before and signing paperwork after, knowing that they knew exactly what happened in between.  Not that they didn’t know when he was with Henry, but somehow, knowing grins or teases about ‘enjoy your summit’ was a little different.  Especially, now, since he lives with Henry so every time they get together isn’t meticulously scheduled through handlers and security teams anymore.  
“What are you thinking about?” Henry asks as he takes off his coat and opts to leave his suitcase in the entryway for now.  
Alex is relieved to take off his wet coat, even as he shivers.  “Just how annoying and awkward the paperwork was before you.  Or even the fact that people like knew every time we got together and what we were doing.”
Henry laughs.  “Why are you randomly thinking about this now?”
“The NDA for the cabby and the fact that Cash had teased about how he carries them around because he used to ‘randomly need them’.”
Henry, who knows about Alex’s exploits, simply kisses him.  “Well, lucky for me, you don’t really need them as randomly anymore.”
Alex laughs.  “Definitely not.”
He shivers again despite the warmth of their home and quickly decides that he needs to get out of all of his clothes.  A hot shower would probably be best.
“You best get out of those wet clothes,” Henry states.  “It’ll be easier to get you warm again.”
Alex grins, devilishly, as he pulls Henry close by his belt loops.  “Trying to get me naked already?  Not even going to wine and dine me, you must think I’m so easy,” he teases.
“Alex, you are ridiculously easy, especially considering that one kiss and you were ready to do me in a room next to a room full of very important people.  Had Amy not reminded us that five minutes was not enough, you would’ve taken me right there.”  Henry laughs.  “And if you recall, I asked if we should slow it down, and go to dinner and you quite frankly told me to shut up because you wanted in my trousers.”
Alex refuses to blush.  “I didn’t say those exact words by any means.  I simply …”
“Wanted to snog my trousers off me?”
Alex huffs.  “That’s not fair.  I spent weeks dealing with my bisexual crisis because I couldn’t get that damn kiss out of my head and – and I just … the bar was low okay, I wanted to kiss you and…”
“…and had very little restraint,” Henry finishes, grinning.  “Because you’re easy.”
“I had enough restraint not to kiss you in front of everyone,” Alex states, defending himself.  “And I was going to say that I think a hot shower or warm bath might do the trick, and thought about inviting you, but I don’t want to be easy.”
“I never said it was a bad thing,” Henry says, retracting a bit.  “I love that you were so … eager.  It helped my nerves for you to be so gung-ho.”  Then he lowers his voice seductively, “And we both know that I would make that shower much hotter and warm you up quite quickly, and after a week away, surely, my easy boyfriend would be as eager for me to join him as I am to join him.”
He's right, naturally.  Alex has been craving Henry since the moment he left, only his exams had kept him here and he had been planned to celebrate the brief reprieve with a naked Henry.  
He grins.  “I’ll race you?”
Henry smiles.  “Always.”
“Good – Go!”
***
Now warm and snuggly, Alex wearing Henry’s Oxford sweatshirt and sweatpants, snuggles up to Henry in his own sweats, and quite put out that he doesn’t fit into Alex’s clothes as easily, but thrilled with having beaten Alex in the race up the stairs.  
Dinner had been a quick affair, and now, they were snuggling in front of the fireplace with the shade of the bay window open so that they could watch the snow fall and listen to some soft music.  Alex never really loved snow since it wasn’t a big factor in Texas (or California), and it still hadn’t grown on him aside from random snow fun that he doesn’t get to have all that often – snowball fights, building snowmen, and making silly things in the snow – it’s usually not enough or he’s usually busy and it melts or he doesn’t have anyone to do those things with, so it’s really just a nuisance to his life rather than anything fun.  
It is pretty though.  Watching it fall from the warmth of their living room, cuddling with his boyfriend and reveling in being together after a week apart.
“So, how were your exams?”
“Great,” Alex admits.  “I know I get in my head about them before and it was probably better you weren’t here this week to be annoyed by my overzealous studying and being in the zone, but I’m sure that I aced them.”
“Of course you did, you’re brilliant, but even if you failed them all, you did your best and it’s good enough,” Henry assures him.
If there’s one thing that Alex appreciates about Henry, it’s the assurance that he’s enough, that he doesn’t have to keep pushing all the time as long as he does his best.  
He kisses his cheek.  
“How was Bea?  Did you enjoy the concert?”
“I did.  I wish you’d been there, but it was nice to visit with Pez since he’s been abroad lately, and Bea did absolutely wonderful as always.  She’s thinking of expanding and doing more concerts outside of the UK.  Possibly, more in Europe, and maybe even some here in the States.”
“That would be fantastic, especially if it means you’d get to see her more,” Alex offers.  He knows how much Henry misses Bea, especially since he avoids London as much as possible.  “Besides, it’ll be nice to attend one of her concerts and see her myself.  Gotta get her to love me as much as June loves you.”
He’s teasing, of course.  He talks to Bea almost as much as Henry talks to June, largely because they have a bit of a connection as rebels of sorts, so despite rarely seeing one another, they still have a deep friendship.  Plus, she loves Alex on the basis that he helped Henry find the courage to fight and that he loves him on purpose.  Protective older sister at her best.
Henry laughs.  “Speaking of, she mentioned that you were up to something for our upcoming anniversary, and she hopes the storm doesn’t ruin things… I told her the weather should clear in a few days and her flight will probably make it out.”
Alex huffs, he’d been planning to surprise Henry with a visit from Bea and Pez for the annual Balls Out Bananas White House Trio New Year’s Eve party, and then a trip out of snow-land to the much warmer lake house – three days with them and three days alone (they would be coming on the third, spending the first and second with June and Nora since he wanted to be alone with Henry on their actual anniversary).  “I thought she was a good secret keeper.  What the hell?”
“She is… usually,” Henry states, smiling.  “But I saw some texts on her phone and may have overheard a bit of your conversation with her the other day.”
Alex pouts.  “They were supposed to be a surprise.  There’s not a lot you can get for a prince, you know?  It’s totally unfair.”
Henry kisses his cheek.  “There’s nothing I need more than you for our anniversary, but I do like you inviting Bea and Pez to your party just for me.”
“It’s not my party.”
“It rather is,” Henry argues.  “You put the most efforts into it, even though you don’t live there anymore.”
“It still belongs to the three of us,” Alex retorts, but it sounds like Henry doesn’t know about the secondary part of the plan, which is fantastic.  “Anyway, I still want to get you something to celebrate.”
“You can gift me yourself as a gift, wrap yourself up in a bow and everything,” Henry teases.  
Alex laughs, “And you say I’m easy.”
“You are.  Need I remind you of the race up the stairs?”
“If that makes me easy, that makes you easy, too.”
“I never said I wasn’t easy, especially when it comes to you, just that you are because you’re the one that’s denying it.”
Alex hums.  It’s certainly true.  “I guess so… why don’t you tell me more about your trip?”
“Well…”
***
The first full day of snow was happily spent cuddling up together watching it snow, sharing stories about weather days that kept them inside – this meant, Alex was a bit jealous of Henry’s snow days the same way he was jealous that Henry got to attend Uni in a more normal way than Alex got to attend Undergrad (although, now, in law school, he was starting to get a more normal college experience despite dating a prince and still being the First Son).  The second full day was spent reliving Alex’s indoor activities which includes board and card games, with an added bonus of holiday movies that all involve couples getting snowed in and falling in love.  He teases Henry that they’re already a step ahead in that, and honestly, he still couldn’t believe it.  
The third day, however, Alex finds himself staring out at the endless snow (it’s now over two feet and still snowing), wanting to get out and about.  Alex doesn’t do well locked up – evidence by his reaction after he was relegated to his bedroom for falling in love with Henry and getting fired from the campaign.  Those were tough days, although, luckily, now he’s not alone.  
Henry knows plenty of ways to distract him – and some of them are even clean! – but he’s still feeling rather… listless stuck inside like this.  
“Snow, snow go away, come back another day,” Alex sings, changing the song from ‘rain, rain’ to snow, not that he believes that a silly song like that would work.
Henry appears from the kitchen with his tea and Alex’s coffee.  “Isn’t that song for rain?”
“Yes, but I’ve repurposed it.”
“And you think some silly song will make the snow stop?”
“One can hope.”
There’s a pause as Henry hands Alex his coffee and wraps an arm around him.  “You know, the snow doesn’t have to keep us inside.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, it’s a little warmer today.  Why don’t we fulfill some of those snow activities that you’ve only vaguely gotten to do growing up?” Henry offers.  “Building snowmen, creating things in the snow and a snowball fight that I will absolutely win.”
“What makes you think you’d win?” Alex questions, already deciding that they would go out and do just that once they finish their drinks.  
Henry hums.  “I could think of a few reasons.”
“Such as?”
“Well, for one, you always claim that I’m ridiculously competent at things –”
“You are, but you’re not usually competing against me.”
“– and for another, I’ve actually played in the snow more often than you have –”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“– and lastly, because I can easily distract you,” Henry finishes, and before Alex could refute that oneHenry’s lips are on his and he’s easily distracted by his literal prince charming kissing like an actual prince charming, which reminds him about the thoughts of the moors the first time that they kissed in his White House bedroom.  
When they break apart, Alex smiles at him.  “You know what I think?”
“That you’d rather play a game upstairs than in the snow outside?”
Alex laughs.  “I’m not that easy.”
Henry gives him a look.  “Oh, then, do tell?”
“I think you’re just scared that I’m going to beat you and you’re trying to deflect by suggesting that I could be easily distracted.”
“Not a chance.  I am definitely going to win any snow related activities.”
“Wanna bet on it?” Alex asks.  “Best of three wins – Snowmen, Snow Creations, and Snowball fight?”
Henry hums.  “Who’s the judge, Cash?  Because I think that would give you an advantage.”  
“Nah, he’d choose you just ‘cause he loves to mess with me.  I was thinking we could send pictures to the group and have them vote.”
“That works, but we’re bundling up, okay?  No light jackets this time.”
“Deal.”
***
An hour or so later, Alex’s lopsided Snowman did not beat Henry’s perfectly straight snowman, and Cash did have to be the tiebreaker (since Nora and Pez had said Alex’s had ‘character’ and chose his).  However, his snow castle and drawings of the six of them in the snow had beaten out the mess that Henry tried to create (he claimed that it was also a portrait of them, but they all looked like complete blobs).  He tries to blame it on David, but no one believes him.
This means that they’re tied going into the snowball fight, where Cash is referee and taking videos to send to their friends.  
They both start with making a wall of snow to protect themselves (and hide their supply of snowballs) and once they’re ready, Cash yells, “Ready – Set – Go!”
They both start throwing their snowballs at each other and dodging out of the way.  Poor Cash nearly gets caught up in the middle since he’s trying to video it, but they manage to barely keep him out of it.  David, on the other hand, tries very hard to be involved… he tries to catch the balls in his mouth and has taken to stealing what he can of them.
They yell trash talk back and forth as they continue along, slowly running out of balls.  At some point, David has destroyed the walls of protection, and they’re both vulnerable.  They start moving around, chasing after one another.  
They both get fair amounts of hits and run out of balls at the same time, which is when they decide to treat the snow like it’s water – splashing it at each other while trying not to get hit.  Alex manages to plop a whole bunch of snow on top of Henry’s head but doesn’t get away fast enough and ends up tackled into the snow.  
At this point, there’s a struggle for who can pin the other down, snow and balls long forgotten while David tries to play, too, and Cash laughs hysterically in the background.  He’s yelling something about why watching over Alex is his favorite assignment ever as he does so.  
Alex is a little preoccupied though.  He can’t flip them over again (they had rolled several times, but he’d ended up on his back).  Henry’s got him pinned to the snow, smiling triumphantly and kisses his nose.  
“Ah, I win!”
“Not a chance, Wales!  You cheated.”
“I did no such thing.”
“You tackled me, I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules.”
Henry scoffs.  “What rules?  We didn’t establish any rules.”
“The – the basic rules.  It’s like dodgeball, you can’t tackle the other team.”
“Yes, well, it’s not dodgeball.  It’s a Snowball fight, and there were absolutely no rules on how to win.  Given that we both abandoned our snowballs in favor of just throwing the snow – I think we abandoned any sense of proper rules, thus I win.”
“Who says ‘thus’?” Alex asks, petulantly.  “And you did not win.  This isn’t over.”
Henry scoffs.  “I have you pinned, it’s over – I won!”
“Not a chance!  I haven’t conceded, yet and I won’t.”
Alex is confident that he could find some way to still win, but Henry’s reply of, “I’ll just make myself comfy, then,” has him faltering.  
Especially when Henry starts teasing him, kissing his face everywhere but his lips, leaning down in between kisses to whisper sweet nothings, even as Alex tries to knock him off of him.  He’s starting to feel the fatigue set in, the wetness at his back, and a hardness from their positions, but what breaks him after several long minutes of delightful torture is when Henry whispers, “Come on, love, admit that I won and you and I will both reap the benefits of the reward – nice hot bubble bath and night that our asses will never forget.”
Alex groans, now fully hard.  “You better put your money where your mouth is.”
“Don’t I always?” Henry asks, grinning down at him.
“Always,” Alex states, grinning.  “Fine, you win!  Just this once.  Now kiss me.”
“Gladly.”
***
They kissed for an obnoxiously long time before remembering that they were not in their bedroom and actually in the snow where anyone could see them.  Once they remembered, they went inside and enjoyed that reward they promised.  Alex was slightly bitter that Henry won, but at least he got to have some fun in the snow. 
Plus, it was fun just to play around with Henry.  Although, he did challenge him to rematch for the next day.  He will eventually win, he’s sure of it.
“Well, I’m successfully exhausted,” Henry says as he pulls Alex in for a cuddle.  “But I enjoyed myself, did you?”
Alex hums, nuzzling Henry’s neck where a hickey is blossoming.  “Naturally, I’d have fun do anything with you.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Me too,” Alex agrees.  “I also love that we got to be snowed in together.  You and me – waiting out the storm of the century, cuddling and enjoying each other.  Exactly what I needed after a week without you.  I’m so glad you paid attention to weather enough to make sure you’d make it home in time.”
Henry hums.  “I didn’t want to risk getting stranded there.  Not without you.”
“I’m glad.”  Alex kisses his cheek and then shifts to kiss him on the lips.  “Here’s to the storm of the century and the best snowed in buddy I could have.”
He doesn’t give Henry the chance to respond, but then, he doesn’t have to.  He’s sure Henry’s feeling the same way, and honestly, Alex would much rather lazily make out than hear the words he already knows are true.  
They say a picture says a thousand words, but Alex thinks a kiss can say ten thousand words and right now, their kisses are saying God, I’m so happy, so in love, and that’s really all he needs.
Together, happy and in love.
Everything’s perfect.
Best snowstorm ever.  
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erimeows · 3 years ago
Text
Yellow Roses
The first time was a learning experience.
Bumblebee had been innocent to the ways of human gift-giving back then, unsure of what to get or where to get it, but after using the internet and looking up where to buy gifts for humans, he found that there was a gift shop down the street from where the Autobot base was, and he begged and pleaded with Sari for some of her allowance money “for something important”.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to get. What he was sure of, though, was that he was completely enamored with you and had been since day one- and he couldn’t bring himself to confess yet, but if he didn’t channel his feelings somehow, they were going to burst.
But as he approached the gift shop on that sunny day in Detroit, no other than Optimus Prime walked out and bumped into him. Thankfully, before he could fall back at the impact, Optimus reached out and caught him, placing him back on his feet with one strong servo. 
“P-Prime, hey!” Bumblebee grinned and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. He knew he wasn’t guilty of anything nefarious, per say, but he had no idea how Optimus would feel about him being in love with a human and wanting to buy gifts for said human with money that wasn’t his. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, nothing much...��� The other Autobot blatantly lied and hid a bouquet of blue and gold flowers that Bee didn’t know the name of behind his back, face burning the brightest shade of red the smaller bot had ever seen it. “Are you looking for something in particular?”
“I don’t know, I mean, what do humans even like?” Bumblebee muttered without thinking, and upon seeing Optimus’s optics widen, he raised his servos defensively and shook his head. “I mean, uh-! Never mind! What’s up with the flowers?”
“Ah,” Optimus gave an awkward grin and held the flowers in front of him instead of continuing to hide them, probably realizing that it was too late and Bumblebee had already seen them. The younger bot wondered if they were for Optimus or for someone else, but he didn’t dare ask, only listening to his leader talk. “I learned that unlike some other organic planets, on earth, it’s considered rude to pick plants if they’re in close proximity to someone’s home or in front of a public building or park unless they’re a specific type called weeds, which flowers aren’t, but I wanted to buy some for someone, so I came here to pick them up after asking Sari about it. Are you gift buying, too?”
“Well, yeah, I guess you could say that,” Bumblebee looked away and held his forearm in one servo, anxiously shifting his weight between his stabilizing servos. It felt like him and Optimus Prime had reached into the cookie jar and caught each other. 
Bumblebee didn’t dare ask who the flowers were for even though he was dying to know in fear that Optimus would ask who he was at the gift shop for in return. An uncomfortable silence fell onto them momentarily, both of them quiet and staring at each other with the noise of traffic and the bustling Detroit citizens walking on the pavement who kept passing by to keep them company.
“I’ve been doing some reading since Sari’s birthday is in a few months,” Optimus tried to continue the conversation and cleared his throat. “The customs for gift giving can involve about anything when it comes to human girls, but the most common are flowers, books, chocolates, jewelry, clothing, video games, or gifts of practicality, which just seem to be hygiene products and things they can use in their daily lives. Gift cards and vouchers with money on them are also common, but considered less personable, so I wouldn’t go that route if you’re close with the one you’re buying for unless they specifically ask for it.”
“Oh... I gotcha. Good ideas, bossbot!” Bumblebee smiled again, the corners of his lip-plates sore from how forced it was due to his nerves.
What if Optimus had figured it out? That would defeat the whole point of his plan; buy you nice things and leave them at your door in the middle of the night without his name attached. It was simple and easy, but if Optimus knew before he even got to try it?
Well. That made it a lot harder.
Thankfully, though, Optimus gave him a nod and bid him a good afternoon, then walked away.
Bumblebee found himself letting out a sigh of relief.
Thank Primus...
...Hours later, Bumblebee regretted all of his life decisions. He was sitting, holed up in his room with one audial pressed up against your wall. It was a terrible habit of his, but he eavesdropped on you pretty frequently when he heard bits and pieces of you talking through the wall, and he was doing it right now.
He wasn’t sure how he had expected it to go, but when he dropped the bouquet of yellow roses at your bedroom doorstep when you were out for lunch and no one was in the halls, he had hoped that you would simply take the flowers, appreciate them, and never say another word. However, you were currently telling Sari about it, which made sense considering that the young girl dropped by your room often and asked you to do her hair or makeup as an excuse to spend time with you- you were an adult, a lot older than Sari, but the two of you got along very well considering that you were the only one who actually knew how to take care of her properly when Isaac Sumdac wasn’t around.
“I have no idea!” You exclaimed, no doubt in reference to the flowers. Bumblebee cringed. What if Sari made the connection that the money he had borrowed from her was for that? What if she told everyone, or what if you told everyone, and Prime realized why he was at that gift shop and let his secret slip? “I can only assume it was you or one of the guys, but like... I don’t know who.”
“Yeah, I have no idea! It wasn’t me, I would’ve just given ‘em to you. We should dig deeper, (y/n)!”
Oh. Oh, Primus, no. 
“I’m not sure, Sari, whoever it was probably dropped it off like that for a reason,” Bumblebee heard you sigh, and at the same time, he let out a sigh of relief. Maybe you would just forget about it and-
“Wait! Do you have a secret admirer!?”
Dammit. Maybe not.
“I... Highly doubt that, the only one I’d be interested in anyways is-” You started, and then cut yourself off in a way that made Bumblebee’s spark shatter and crumble into little pieces inside his chassis. You were single, but you were already into someone? What if it wasn’t him? He’d understand, of course- Prime was stronger, Prowl was smooth, Bulkhead was talented, and Ratchet was intelligent. Compared to them, he felt like he didn’t have much to offer you. Everyone around him was amazing, and he was just there, but... He loved you, and he wanted you to know how loved you were. So, whether you’d love him back or not, he’d keep giving everything he had to you; even if the way in which he went about it was indirect. “Actually, never mind, but your braids are done-”
“No, wait, you can’t just gloss past that!” Sari whined. Bee almost didn’t want to hear the rest of your discussion, but he couldn’t keep himself from listening. “Who is it, who is it!?
“Let’s just go play Animal Crossing in the living room, we can talk about all of that at a later date, yeah?” You offered, voice laced with both your amusement and confusion. 
“Fine, fine, but you have to tell me soon! Pinky promise.”
“Fine, pinky promise. Now let’s go.”
Bumblebee heard your door open and close, followed by what he presumed to be you and Sari’s footsteps in the hallway. The sound eventually dissipated.
The Autobot was left to lay back on his berth and stare at the ceiling with a huff.
You were telling others about the gift he left, trying to get to the bottom of it, and you were into someone or somebot he didn’t even know about.
What had he gotten himself into?
-
The second time, he felt a little better about it. It was a week later and he hadn’t heard any discussion of the subject amongst the other Autobots, so he assumed nothing had come from it.
But, as he lounged on the living room couch, he jumped upon you sitting down on the couch’s arm- right by where his head was laid.
It made sense that he had been jumpier around you over the past few days. Part of it was the usual I’m-in-love-with-you-and-super-tense-about-it jumpiness that he had become accustomed to, but it was made worse by the fact that he was guilty; guilty of keeping a secret from you, of indirectly lying to you. He could’ve done it the one time with the roses and let it die down after, but when you’d talked about your old game controller breaking the night before at the dinner table, he hadn’t been able to help himself- he went and got it along with a new bouquet of yellow roses, left it in front of your room later that night, knocked, and ran away.
It was the next day, and understandably, he’d been anxious about it. It was better than the first time, but he was just hoping you wouldn’t talk about it.
Of course, he was never that lucky, and you looked at him with the controller literally in your hands. 
“Hey, Bee, do you know anything about this?” You asked.
Had he been caught? Did you know? Or were you just trying to get information from him in case he knew something? Unsure, he decided to play it safe and act oblivious. 
“Huh? What’s that?”
“I’m taking that as a no, but someone left this new controller on my doorstep with a bouquet of roses? I needed a new one, but I only mentioned it to you and the others, so I think it’s one of you guys... But this is the second time I’ve received a gift without any name on it and I’m really confused. I’ve done some asking around, but the only one who seems to know anything is Optimus, and he won’t give me any hints and insists that he has no idea what I’m talking about.”
Great. So, Optimus probably realized why Bumblebee had been at the gift shop last week. Well... From what you said, it sounded like Optimus was at least decent enough to stay out of his business and keep the secret for him- or try to, at least. 
“Yeah? That’s weird, I don’t really know why he’d be like that about it... Wanna play Streetfighter?”
“Sure, but I’m just super confused, man,” You muttered, turning on the playstation and giving a frustrated huff. The game quickly turned on, and while Bee took the old controller, you connected your brand new one and chose your stage, your character being Akuma. Bee chose Ken to fight with and listened to you continue as the game started. “I thought the first time might’ve just been a one-off thing, but it’s happened again, and the flowers were one thing, but now it’s flowers and a new controller. Anyone else would be creeped out, and I’m not creeped out- more flattered than anything since I know it’s from you or one of the other Autobots- but this is really expensive... I’d at least like to be able to say thank you!”
“That makes sense, I think I’d feel the same way,” The black and yellow bot mumbled. The game had hardly started and he was already losing due to his inability to focus- it was so bad that he couldn’t even combat you when you crowded his character into the corner and kicked him over and over and over again. His health bar dropped to zero, signaling that you’d won round one.
Round two started, and he did a little better; actually jumping away from your cornering attempts and offering some blasts and punches, but by the time it ended, he’d only gotten you down to half health, and you were delivering your final blow. Ken fell to the ground, Akuma still standing. 
You didn’t even press replay despite being player one. No, instead, you let out a huff and stared at the ceiling. Bumblebee found himself resting his helm against your thigh without thinking, enjoying the warmth against his faceplates. You two were best friends, very comfortable with each other and with physical affection, so you didn’t mind it, only running a gentle hand over one of his audials in return. 
Both of you set your controllers down. It was obvious that both of you were so focused on the subject of your anonymous gifts that the game didn’t catch either of your interests like it usually would. 
“I might try to ask Optimus about it again tomorrow... Information extraction,” You joked, but Bumblebee quickly sat up and objected. 
“Wait, I don’t think that’s such a good idea!”
“Huh? Why not? He’s the only one who’s given me so much as a reaction,” You argued and stood up to turn the game system off, then started pacing around the room. “And I guess his eyes getting all wide ‘n stuff may have just been something else, but like... It’s all I’ve got to go on.”
“Yeah, but you know how the bossbot is,” Bee stood as well, trying his hardest not to look like he was in the midst of blowing a circuit from the panic that was currently taking over his processor. “He shuts down when you push him too hard. If he knows anything about it, you gotta wait for him to come to you with that sweet info.”
“You’re probably right, Bee, thanks for the advice,” You smiled, and then walked to him to put a hand on his shoulder plate. “I’m gonna go to bed, ‘kay? Goodnight.”
You looked into his optics, and oh Primus, he was gone; your eyes were such a beautiful shade of (e/c), and your smile was so beautiful, and you were so beautiful, and he was so in love-
Quickly, he realized that he was taking too long to respond, so he quickly stammered something out.
“G-Goodnight...” 
And then, you left, swiftly turning and walking out of the living room.
Bumblebee found himself letting out a sigh of relief, but at the same time, he missed you desperately.
He wished he’d given you a hug goodnight.
And, as he stood alone in the dark living room, he thought back to how exactly he’d ended up in his current predicament; painfully in love with a human, giving them things without having the courage to do it face-to-face, life feeling like it was falling apart with every hour that passed without him being able to kiss you and tell you how much he loved you like he so desperately wanted to. 
He’d loved you from the very start, and as bold as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you- he was just too scared, but...
What if this was what finally gave it away...?
-
The third time was what ended up blowing his cover. He should’ve left it alone, and he had told himself that after the last time- it was far too close of a call when you talked about Optimus knowing something, and he was so obvious with his own emotions during that, too... He wouldn’t do it again.
But then, he was shopping with Sari that day and saw a (f/c) hoodie that was just your size and style, and he decided you had to had it. So, when Sari was distracted at a different store, he got the hoodie, along with a new notebook, some pens, and a stuffed bee. He bought the gifts for you and put them in a nice gift bag with some paper, then left them by your door and disappeared before anyone could see him. 
He was sitting in the living room yet again. It was late at night, and though him and his team had spent most of that night playing board games and catching up with a movie playing in the background, they’d all went to bed hours ago, leaving him to think by himself.
He’d lost at every game; Uno, Monopoly, Candyland, Sorry, Cards Against Humanity, and Scrabble, all because he was staring at you the entire time. 
Why couldn’t he just get over himself and confess already? It was selfish to keep hiding from you, because what if the one you’d mentioned being interested in was actually him? And even if it wasn’t him, was it fair for you to think that he saw you as a friend when he was secretly in love with you? Was it fair for you to keep receiving gifts and never knowing who they were from? 
Speak of the devil, though- the second Bumblebee looked up from where he was standing in the middle of the room, you were leaning against the doorway, wearing the hoodie he’d bought you and a pair of pajama shorts. You looked sleepy with your (h/l) (h/c) hair a mess and your soft hands rubbing the bleariness out of your (e/c) eyes. 
“Bee?” You mumbled.
“(y/n), where’d you just come from? You look tired! You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m tired, but I’m fine. I was in the hallway, kinda waiting for everyone else to go to bed so I could talk to you, but... It took me a minute to come in here.” Bumblebee walked towards you and raised his optical ridge. His spark sank to the floor because oh Primus, was this it? Was it finally happening?
“Oh, uh... Why do you need to talk to me alone? What’s up?”
You averted your gaze and gently grabbed one of his servos with your hand, holding it tightly. Bumblebee took a sharp intake. You were about to start talking, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for it. 
“I know it’s you,” You confessed with a guilty smile. Bumblebee froze in place and cringed. “I feel bad, but my curiosity was killing me, so I asked around some more and did a lot of prying- Optimus seemed like he was hiding something when I talked to him about it, so I pried until he gave up and told me that he suspected it was you; that he’d seen you at a gift shop the day I got the first bouquet, that he’d seen you lingering in the hallways the past few times I’ve gotten something, etcetera. He gave me enough details that I pieced it together, so... Yeah.”
“Well, at least it’s out of the way,” Bumblebee laughed out loud, and surprisingly, you smiled back at him. This wasn’t how he wanted it to come out, but he wasn’t sure it would have come out at all if not for this. “Getting human money without a real job is hard! Glad I could at least confess without having to do it so much that I went bankrupt.”
“Bee...” You started again, peering up at him, but he felt like he wasn’t ready for what was going to happen next. Were you about to reject him? He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. 
“Well, now that that’s done, I’m gonna go ahead and go to bed! I could use a really good recharge right about now-”
“Bee-” You cut him off with a pout and gripped his servo, obviously not done, but he only continued in hopes that you would give it up and let him escape the situation. 
“Goodnight, (y/n)-”
“Bee!” You yelled and pulled him towards you by his wrist so you could get in his face. “For God’s sake, man, stop and listen to me talk for a second!”
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I just-” He tossed his hands up defensively, ready to spill his circuits out, only for you to cut him off.
“You don’t think I love you back, right? You’re such a dolt!” You exclaimed. 
“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Bumblebee yelled back at you, processor only catching the insult before he thought back on ‘I love you back’ and froze. “...Oh. Sorry.”
“I mean I’ve loved you for months now! Even before I realized it, I think I would’ve been more than open to dating you at any point in time, I mean... You’re pretty great. Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Well, uh-” Bumblebee stopped and took in a deep intake, then sighed and linked your fingers with his digits so he could hold your hand properly. The anxiety that had been building up over you for so long now was finally leaving his body and being replaced by relief.“I don’t know. I feel kinda stupid now.”
“C’mere,” You mumbled and wrapped an arm around him. He hugged you back, taking you into his arms and resting his chin on top of your head... He could get used to that. You were warm and soft as you relaxed your body against his and allowed yourself to be held. You let go of his servo in favor of curling your hands and arms up by his chest. “Thank you for the gifts. They were really sweet and I loved them all, so... I’ll be sure to return the favor.”
“Return the favor? This is more than enough to return the favor!” He grinned, only hugging you tighter. “I’ve always wanted to just, like, hug you like this-”
“You can kiss me, too, if you want,” You offered, which had him pulling back to look down at you, spark lit aflame. 
“Really?” Bumblebee asked, just to be sure.
“Of course.”
There was a moment of silence; hesitance from both ends. It was true that, while both of you had been physically affectionate as friends, you’d never kissed, and Bumblebee had certainly never kissed a human. He’d been waiting for this moment for so long, but he had no idea what to do now that it was actually happening. 
Thankfully, you took the initiative and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, hands on the back of his neck. You looked up at him one more time before standing on your tip-toes so you could gently press your lips against his. Bumblebee was frozen still for a moment as he processed your warm, soft lips against his cool metal plating, but after the tension faded, he found himself resting his servos on your hips and melted into it. 
One kiss turned into many; again, again, and again, you moved your lips against his in a manner so intoxicating that he couldn’t get enough of it.
Eventually, though, you pulled away and smiled up at him, but now that he had gotten to kiss you like that, he couldn’t help but want more. 
“I, uh... I’m not sure the favor has been returned yet,” Bumblebee averted his optics from your eyes, able to feel his spark beating faster. “I might need one more kiss just to be sure-”
You chuckled, cutting him off by leaning up again and sloppily pushing your lips against his- and, with that, he was gone.
234 notes · View notes
seonghwanotes · 3 years ago
Text
birthday | park seonghwa
Tumblr media
pairing: seonghwa × female reader
genre: slight angst, fluff
word count: 3.4k
a/n: one of my personal favourites, i didn't proofread it but i hope this is good! it was fun writing this, a tad bit of personal feelings involved hshsh hope you'll like it. please do reblog !! thank u <3
The second you turned the television off, the living room that was once filled with loud noise and a bright light was now silent and inevitably dark. Your mind went blank for a second before you sighed unconsciously and walked up to the fridge, opening the door to grab a can of beer for yourself.
You went outside to your balcony and leaned against the railing, staring into the night sky where the streetlights & the busy traffic illuminated the city on the night of your last 20th. Opening the can which gave off a loud pop sound, you brought the can to your lips and took a sip of the cold beverage which stung your throat initially but you didn’t mind the effect because your mind was too busy worrying about other things.
It felt different.
It felt a little too different to celebrate your birthday without Seonghwa by your side and you had to fight back the urge to text him or call him at every chance you had. It had been months since you both had broken up, but you had also spent every birthday with him ever since you were 18. So, you really didn’t know what to do considering he would always have something planned up his sleeve for you and vice versa.
Truth to be told, you couldn’t even think of how you spent your days normally without him in your life. It was funny to think you survived 4 months without someone crucial in your life, you were a mess, of course, but your will to live pulled you out of the mess that you had created for yourself.
You weren’t you without Seonghwa and he wasn’t Seonghwa without you.
You resisted the urge to cry as you thought of him, taking bigger sips of your beer that you were now halfway done with, trying to mask the pain away by being drunk. The traffic started to slow down which was a sign for you that midnight was inching closer since the road would be clear by then. Once again, you started to zone out and think about what you could do.
“Go out for lunch?” You asked yourself. Then you shook your head. Your friends were busy. They had informed you a week earlier and you didn’t want to have a mental breakdown in public as you ate by yourself on your 21st.
Buy yourself a birthday cake? You shook your head again. You hated cake and there was no one to finish it, your neighbours were out of town so you wouldn’t be able to give it to them too. If Seonghwa was around, he would finish it up for you.
Order takeout and sleep in the entire day? You sighed, bringing the can to your lips as you finished your beer. You were already doing that every single day. But then again, it wouldn’t hurt to repeat another day like that. You could just cook for yourself at home and start a new DIY project. Only for it to sleep for the rest of the year considering you never finish anything that you start by yourself, Seonghwa was always there to complete it for you.
“You’re so pathetic.” You told yourself, letting out an airy chuckle before your chest and throat tightened up, your eyes welling up with tears. The cold breeze slapped your skin, which made you realise you were dressed up in just a t-shirt and your loose shorts. But that only made your heart swell more at the thought of your ex boyfriend that you were still undeniably in love with.
Seonghwa was indeed much more different from your previous 2 other exes and he was the only one you couldn’t seem to move on from. Maybe it was because he didn’t screw up, didn’t break your trust and made sure you felt safe with him. Maybe it was because he was careful with his words and was patient with everything you did. 
Maybe, it was solely because he was Park Seonghwa.
He knew how much you hated birthdays. But, he never failed to make them better for you ever since you both first met. He was the polar opposite of you, he was taken aback when he found out you hated birthdays. You could still remember his exact words when you had dropped the alleged grenade on him.
“How can someone hate birthdays? And cake, may I add. Is your life that sad, Y/N?” He whisper-yelled, trying not to grab others’ attention while you both were in a cafe for a breakfast date.
“I just don’t find them amusing. I would be excited for 11 months only to be disappointed on my birthday itself, so I don’t see why I should bother about it anymore.” You told him in a calm manner, cutting your pancake and feeding him a fork which he gladly accepted without any second thought.
“Now, let’s not speak of it. There’s still like months to go.”
Eventually, your 18th birthday arrived. Per expected, nothing happened. You did feel disappointed but you weren’t surprised, which made the pain feel easier to bear and forget. You spent your morning with your family and had seaweed soup per tradition, it was also your first birthday with Seonghwa so he insisted on bringing you out in the evening. You didn’t think anything of it so you agreed to it and followed suit.
To your surprise, it was more than just “I forgot to wrap your present.”
“Seonghwa, what is this?” You asked in shock, not being able to react to what he had gifted you with. "You said you forgot to wrap my present?"
"Yeah…." He trailed off, rubbing his neck anxiously, "I did forget to wrap it, but do you like it?" He said, a grin plastered onto his face.
You were simply too shocked to reply, which made Seonghwa think you were mad or you were unhappy with what he's given you. "Or you don't like it…"
"No!" You shrieked, making him jump in surprise before he looked at you. You looked up at him, gulping down your saliva unsure of how to react to the customised fireworks he had prepared for your birthday, which had spelt your name out before a bunch of heart fireworks burst next to them. 
You were guilty for letting him spend a hefty amount of money on your 'gift', let alone booking an empty park just for you to see the fireworks. You began crying on the spot, which made Seonghwa's heart drop at the sight of it, as his hands made their way to your back to rub them.
"Y/N, what's wrong? Did I do something?" He asked, worried you were afraid of fireworks. You shook your head before you looked up at him and sobbed, "Why did you spend so much for me?"
"It's your birthday, baby, of course I'm going to go all out for you. If it wasn't for today 18 years ago, I don't think I would have met the love of my life." He told you, his hands cupping your cheeks as you leaned into the warmth of his hands.
Your words got stuck in your throat, you didn't know what to say to him. He wouldn't have gone this far if you didn't mean a lot to him, right? So, why was it hard for you to feel the same way? Before you started crying again, you threw yourself into his arms and gave him a tight hug.
Seonghwa smiled to himself at the gesture since it was rare for you to hug him voluntarily, he was fazed with you in his arms & before he could stroke your head, you pulled away to look at him with a smile on your face.
"Thank you, Hwa. I really love it. Definitely the best birthday I've ever had." You told him, which made him grin widely, his cheeks tinting red from both shyness and happiness.
"Now, let's cut the cake and sing a song for you!"
Time flew and you were practically inseparable from Seonghwa ever since your birthday. You tried to do the same for him on his 19th but he didn't allow you to spend a single cent and insisted that you stayed the night with him, which you didn't have problems agreeing with.
It also resulted in you having your first kiss with Seonghwa, which took your relationship to a whole new phase.
Your 19th came by as well and you reminded Seonghwa almost a million of times to never repeat what he did for your 18th every time he asked you for what you wanted. He did take note of it but he didn't exactly promise you he wouldn't do it.
So, it took you by surprise when he gifted you with a coffee machine that you've been eyeing for months now along with an ice maker that was in your shopping cart.
"No way! You actually got me this?"
He chuckled at your expression, "You spend way too much time and money at Starbucks so we're settling your coffee addiction with this machine."
Your mouth was still wide open as you looked at the pink machine in front of you. Your boyfriend was insane for getting you the limited edition version out of every single existing version out there.
Yet, you were beyond elated with the gift choice and you were glad he didn't go out of his way to do something extravagant. Both of you spent the rest of the night at his place where he cooked dinner for you & an endless amount of caffeine, thanks to your newfound love. 
Then, the big twenties had arrived. Seonghwa wasn't with you for his 20th which made you feel upset but that didn't stop you from travelling to his college so that you could give him a surprise.
The boy was upset that he couldn't meet up with his girlfriend as he was stuck in his dorm on the weekend while his friends were out partying. He wasn't a huge fan of getting drunk among strangers so he kept it lowkey and preferred staying at home.
So, when there was a random knock on his dorm door at 9pm, he was confused. Was the party cancelled? His roommates had no other reason to come home early as well. He mindlessly opened the door to be met with your toothy grin in front of him.
As if he was falling in love for the first time, his heart took 10 million leaps every time he saw you and it was no different this time round. He had missed you so much, he didn't even care about the CCTVs guarding the corridor as he kissed you right in front of his door. Took him a quick second to realise before he pulled away and embraced you in a hug.
"I missed you so much, Y/N, I'm happy to see you tonight." He mumbled into your ear while your cheeks flushed, not knowing what to say as he was sudden with his actions.
"I missed you too, Hwa. Now, if you don't mind, why don't we head inside and unwrap the gift I got you?"
He could sense the excitement in your voice and you both went inside, plopping down on the couch to see what you've gotten him. “Wow, it’s heavy,” He chuckled, “Is it a vacuum cleaner?”
Your smile dropped as you stopped at his couch while he sat down, only to see that you were still standing. “What?” Realisation sunk in, “Y/N, are you serious?”
“This is the last birthday I’m getting you a gift, nothing is ever a surprise!” You whined, plopping down beside him while he excitedly unwrapped the box to see the Dyson vacuum he’s been wanting. You couldn’t even smile because he had easily guessed the gift, even though it was a joke.
He was so excited about it that he just examined the exterior without peeling off the protective plastic, he then wrapped it back and closed it before looking over to the other paper bag you held. He arched a brow at it before you handed it to him with a straight face, which he gladly took.
“Another gift?” He asked, hiding a smirk because he had a feeling he knew what you got him but he didn’t want you to frown the entire evening so he tried to act like he didn’t know. You simply hummed in reply while he tried to guess what the item was by feeling the box.
“Well, baby, I don’t know about you but this is probably a bag of potatoes.” He said, frowning as he slowly unboxed the package. You smacked his back out of anger, “If I were going to get you potatoes, I might as well buy you a damn farm!”
He chuckled, looking at you. “No one grows potatoes on a farm, though.”
“Park Seonghwa, I’m gonna leave if you keep this up.” You threatened him, not having a reply to his smart comeback. He didn't wipe off the smile on his face, instead he kept quiet and opened the gift and to his surprise, he actually didn’t expect this one.
You had expected him to give you a cocky reply but he was silent, smiling at the air purifier that came in as a plus one when you bought the vacuum cleaner. “Is it pretty?” You asked in the smallest voice ever, moving forward a little to see his face.
He turned to look at you and gave you a smile, his eyes lighting up with love as he looked at you. “Very. I love the gifts, baby. Thank you so much.” He thanked you, making you grin. “These probably costed you a fortune though, wh-”
“The price doesn’t matter, your birthday comes once in a year. Plus, we can use this at our place when you think about it for the future.” You cut him off, not wanting him to bother about how much you spent on it. You did save up money and worked extra time at your part-time job whenever you could, you wanted some extra pocket money and you had more than enough for his gift so you just bought him his dream vacuum cleaner.
“Let me rephrase that - you bought this as a gift, with the thought of us living together someday?” He asked, a smirk on his face. You tried to hide the blush on your face as you tried to think of reasons to not say yes to him but you did. You looked away and observed his dorm for the first time, “Your place is cool.”
He laughed, causing you to copy his action before he leaned in and gave you an unexpected peck on the lips. You looked into his eyes, wondering if he felt the same as you did, but you didn’t need a verbal answer because when he leaned in to kiss you again, you knew he loved you more than you could ever imagine him to.
Months went by and it was your 20th birthday, but it was the same as his 20th. You were stuck in your dorm, studying for the exams you had the following week. You told Seonghwa that he didn’t have to come over because you were busy studying anyway and you wouldn’t be able to do anything with him. 
But, when he was standing in front of your dorm at 2 in the morning, you could only respond with a gasp. “Park Seonghwa, are you crazy?”
“Happy birthday, my love.” He wished you, giving you a kiss on the forehead before he handed you a medium sized boxed that was tied together with a satin ribbon. “Wanted to mail you but I would rather see you face to face when you open this up.”
You both went inside your room and sat on your bed, as you opened his gift for you. It was unusually different from his usual expensive gifts that flaunted his rich status which he always denied and claimed that it was his parents’, not his. The box contained polaroids of you two, some of your favourite chocolate bars, a matching ring set along with handwritten letters for you.
It was a small gesture from his side as your boyfriend but it felt like you had received one of the biggest forms of gratitude, love and attention packed in the form of a boy. You smiled at the cute things he did and you squealed out loud, extremely happy with what you had. You threw yourself into his arms and hugged him tightly, giggles leaving your lips for a good 5 minutes while his huge hand rested on your back.
“Why are you the best boyfriend in this world? You surprise me every year without fail.” You mumbled into his shirt, holding back the tears that threatened to pour out when you got a little emotional.
“Are you going to cry now?” He teasingly asked you, making you pull away to look at him.
You looked at him for a good minute, taking in his beautiful features and your heart swelling at the thought of you always feeling the happiest whenever you were with him. You knew he had to be the one, he knew you like the back of his hand and accepted your flaws without any questioning. 
“Seonghwa?” You called out in a soft tone, making his eyes grow wide, surprised that you had used his full name instead of the endearing nickname you gave him.
“Yeah? What’s up?” He questioned you, hands still around your waist while you both stared into each other’s eyes.
“I love you.”
Seonghwa would swear to God he would never ever forget this moment, it took you so much of time to cozy up and accept him into your life, he thought he would never see this day happen in life. A day where you would say those 3 words to him, that he’s been aching to tell you but he was so scared you didn’t feel the same way yet. 
“I love you too, Y/N.” He replied back without any hesitation, smiling back at you before he leaned in and kissed you, which never failed to give you butterflies every single time.
So, what went wrong in your perfect relationship that everyone envied?
You crushed the beer can in your hand and walked to the kitchen to throw it in the trash bin. You didn’t eat dinner and the beer was already making you tipsy despite it being your first can. You didn’t want to stay up anymore because you knew very well you were gonna dwell over your past birthdays and Seonghwa in general.
Checking your phone, it showed 12.01 and not even a single notification popped up. You closed it in an instance and shrugged it off, it wasn’t something new - people were often busy with their day so wishing a person was the last thing on their mind.
You turned off every light in your house and were about to walk to your room until you heard 3 knocks on your door. You weren’t gonna lie, it did give you the creeps because whoever it was could have simply rung the doorbell but then again, it was midnight. You never acknowledged the loud noises whenever you were sound asleep.
Anxiety filled your veins as you went to open the door, thanking God for letting you live this long and if it was a serial killer in front of you, you were fine with dying. But very much to your surprise, an all-too familiar face stood there, your favourite coat covered his tall frame well while his eyes were wide from surprise, not expecting you to open the door late at night.
You could swear your heart skipped more than a beat at the sight of Seonghwa in front of you, you were at a loss for words. His eyebags spoke more than enough words and he took his time scanning your face that had its turn crying as well.
He handed you a bouquet of crimson red carnations, with a soft smile lingering on his pink lips that you missed kissing. You took it without hesitation and never let your eyes leave his. He definitely remembered, there was no way he was going to let you live another day in pain, even after he had promised to not leave you, even after you were the one to leave him first and even after not talking for months.
“Happy birthday, Y/N.”
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prouvaireafterdark · 3 years ago
Text
We’ll Let the Flame Burn Once Again - a 3x07 Coda
My take on 3x08, with 100% more bed sharing, love confessions, and blow jobs than I’m sure canon will give us tomorrow.
Also on AO3!
***
Alex is halfway through the file on the Lockhart Machine when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Michael’s name flashes across the screen like an accusation when he digs it out of his coat.
“Fuck,” Alex sighs. He’d been so preoccupied with being kidnapped and faced with a life-changing career dilemma he’d completely forgotten that he’d never returned Michael’s voicemail or given anyone an update on the Kyle situation.
“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back, I—” Alex starts when he answers the phone, but Michael cuts him off. 
“Are you home?” Michael asks sharply. He sounds panicked and out of breath, like he’s just been running for his life.
“Uh, no,” Alex answers. “Why, what’s wrong?”
The laugh Michael lets out is strangled and more than a little hysterical. “Better question would be what isn’t, but I’ll give you the cliff notes: Jones took over Max’s body and now he’s trying to kill us.”
“What?” Alex asks, sitting up straighter in his seat.
“Oh, and he’s also my fucking dad apparently,” Michael continues.
“What?” Alex says again. If that’s true, Alex has a few questions about where the hell those curls came from. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Michael says bitterly before he adds, all in a rush, “Look, I don’t know what he’s planning, but if he’s trying to get to me it’s only a matter of time before he goes after you and something tells me I won’t be able to build a bomb to get you back this time. You need to get somewhere safe, somewhere he won’t be able to find you.”
Is there anyone in this town who doesn’t know about our history? Alex wonders. 
He looks around at the wooden beams of the abandoned barn-turned hospital room he’s currently stuck in as he replies, “Don’t worry about me. I don’t think he’ll be able to find my location.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Alex assures him. If he knows Ramos half as well as he thinks he does, he’s pretty sure this building wouldn’t even show up on a map. “Where are you going to go?” 
“No fucking idea,” Michael says. “My place isn’t safe and neither is Isobel’s so maybe we’ll just find a motel for the night or something until—“
“No, don’t do that,” Alex interrupts. “He’ll probably be expecting that and with Max’s face he’ll have access to police resources. If he’s motivated enough, he’ll track you down by the end of the night.”
Michael lets out a loud sigh before he says, mostly to himself, “Fuck Max for being a fucking cop,” frustration heavy in his tone. “You got any other ideas then?”
Alex considers that for a moment before he remembers the cabin Jim left him. It’s not a top secret military bunker, but it’s remote and about as secure as they can hope for right now.
“I do, actually,” Alex says at last. “Where are you right now?”
“The hospital,” Michael answers. “Maria’s fine, Liz and I just checked on her.”
“Okay good,” he says. “He probably won’t attack you if you’re in a public place so just stay there and wait for my call, okay? There’s something I need to take care of and then I’m all yours.”
Alex cringes at his own wording, but Michael doesn’t seem to notice.
“Okay,” he says. “Just—hurry?” 
“I will,” Alex promises. “Stay safe.”
“You too,” Michael replies, and then the line goes dead.
Alex turns back to his phone screen and pulls up his contacts. He hesitates for a minute, asking himself if what he’s about to do is really the right choice.
But then he thinks of Michael and how much easier it would be to protect him with access to all of the resources and intel Deep Sky has to offer. If Jones is even half the threat he seems, Alex has a feeling he’s going to need all the help he can get.
Alex makes the call. It rings twice before he gets an answer.
“Have you made up your mind then?” Ramos asks, foregoing a greeting entirely.
“I’m in,” Alex says, projecting confidence he doesn’t quite feel. “Now do you think I can get a ride back to my car? I’ve got somewhere to be.”
Thirty minutes later, Alex leaves Kyle in Ramos’ care and hits the road. He’s careful not to speed too much—the last thing he needs is to get pulled over right now—but he’s definitely pushing it.
Alex had called Michael back while he waited impatiently for Ramos and gave him instructions on how to get to the cabin—an indirect route with minimal traffic cameras along the way. Looking at the clock on his dashboard, Alex guesses Michael will probably have already let himself in by now.
Sure enough, Michael’s pick-up truck and Isobel’s SUV are already parked outside by the time Alex pulls into the dirt path he calls a driveway. When he opens the front door, he sees a small crowd of people in his living room, all wearing various expressions of exhaustion and defeat.
Rosa has her boots propped up on the coffee table next to Michael’s hat where she sits in the armchair in the corner, her eyes trained on Liz who looks to be wearing a hole in the carpet with all of the pacing she’s doing. Michael is sitting with Isobel on the couch, her head resting heavily on his shoulder and her arms drawn tight across her chest. 
They all look up at him as he steps over the threshold, but Michael’s the first to react, his back straightening against the couch the moment he lays eyes on him.
“Alex,” he says, little louder than a whisper. Alex feels the sudden desire to pull him into his arms. 
“Sorry I’m late,” Alex says, closing the door behind him. “It’s a long story, but I found Kyle.”
“You found Kyle?” Liz asks, her eyes wide as she takes a step closer to him. “Where is he?”
“With his uncle,” he answers.
“His what?” Rosa asks at the same time Liz says, “Kyle doesn’t have an uncle.”
“Yeah, we’ve got a lot to talk about,” Alex says. 
This time of night, Alex figures they could all use a pick-me-up, so he heads to the kitchen and gestures for them to follow. 
While he gets the ancient coffee pot going, he can hear the sound of chairs scraping against the floor behind him as they all find a seat at the table in the middle of the room. There’s an empty seat next to Michael when he goes to sit, so he takes it, figuring it’ll be easier to stay focused on the task at hand if he doesn’t have to look directly at him.
As he sits down, he catches Michael’s eyes shifting toward the dusty bottle of whiskey on top of the fridge, but he surprises him when he doesn’t ask for it. Alex isn’t sure if that’s for Rosa’s benefit or his own, but either way he can’t help but feel a little proud of him.
They talk for what must be hours, starting with Kyle and Alex’s involvement with Deep Sky and ending with the shit show that went down with Jones tonight. It’s a lot to process, for all of them, but they do manage to come up with a plan for tomorrow. 
Michael is understandably suspicious of Deep Sky, but after Alex relays what he learned about the Lockhart Machine’s origins in Caulfield, he wants to get his hands on it. The idea of working so close to him makes Alex nervous for more reasons than one, but Michael’s right—he needs his help if he’s going to make any meaningful progress before the other shoe drops with Jones and pretending otherwise is going to get someone killed.
Liz, for her part, is eager to dive into the science to see if there’s anything she can do to help Kyle, so Alex will take her to the barn in the morning before he and Michael tackle the Lockhart Machine. 
With no leads on where Jones took Max’s body, Isobel and Rosa decide to check on Maria and see if there’s any progress they can make on freeing her from the hold Jones has on her mind. 
It’s as solid a plan as they’re capable of making with what they’ve got, so the moment Michael yawns behind the grimy bandana on his hand Alex is ready to call it a night.
“Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight,” Alex says. He pushes back from the table and starts collecting coffee mugs to put in the sink as he continues, “There’s a guest bedroom down the hall and an extra bed in the secret bunker under the coffee table in the living room for people to crash in.”
“The what under the what?” Liz asks, bewildered.
“Alex Manes, do you have a sex dungeon in your basement?” Isobel asks, sounding intrigued and a little impressed before she grimaces suddenly and turns to Michael. “Ew, wait, did you know about this?”
Alex resolutely does not look at Michael as he sighs, “It’s not a sex dungeon.” 
He considers telling them about the room’s true intended purpose, but decides against it—there’s been enough revelations about distant fathers for one evening. 
“It’s just an extra bedroom,” he continues, before turning to Liz and Rosa. “The bed down there is big enough for two people to fit in if you guys don’t mind sharing. The bed in the guest room’s just a twin, so it’d be a tighter squeeze.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Rosa shrugs, eyes on Liz as she continues, “As long as you don’t steal the covers.”
“Oh come on, that was one time when I was seven,” Liz protests, crossing her arms over her chest.
Isobel interrupts their sibling banter to say, “Dibs on the guest room then. Sorry, Michael, you’re on the couch tonight.”
Michael shrugs like he expected that, but Alex stops him with a hand on his arm as he goes to walk toward the living room.
“No, take my bed,” he says. Michael’s eyes drop down to where Alex’s hand has caught his forearm and Alex lets him go. “I’m sleeping on the couch.”
“What?” Michael asks, cocking his head so his curls fall into his eyes. “No, I’ll take the couch. Sleep in your own bed.”
“Michael, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch after the day you’ve had,” Alex argues. “You need a good night’s sleep in an actual bed.”
“And you don’t?” Michael counters. “Besides, if you sleep on that lumpy-ass couch you’re definitely going to fuck up your leg and I think we can both agree that that would be kind of a problem if Jones catches up to us.”
Alex sighs and tries to stare him down, willing him to let him do this for him, but Michael just keeps defiantly meeting his gaze.
“Oh my god, would you two shut up and just share the bed if the couch sucks that much?” Isobel asks and they both turn to look at her in shock. “It’s not like it would be the first time,” she adds under her breath.
Alex shares another look with Michael and waits a moment for him to react, to give any sign he wouldn’t be okay with that. 
All he does is shrug and say, “I’m game if you are.”
If he’s honest, Alex has no fucking idea how he’s supposed to get any sleep lying next to Michael all night—his stomach is already in knots just thinking about it—but he nods his head anyway.
“Alright,” Alex agrees. “It’s just down the hall that way, I’ll show you. Does anyone need anything to sleep in? I’ve got some spare pajamas.”
There’s a chorus of yes’s all around, so Alex heads down the hall toward his bedroom to grab some clothes with Michael not far behind him. 
“Looks, uh—nice in here,” Michael comments awkwardly as they step inside the bedroom, and Alex can’t help but laugh.
“You don’t have to lie,” he says as he starts digging through the dresser for some old t-shirts and sweatpants, glad for once that he never got around to cutting down the right pant leg on them. “Besides the new sheets, this is all Jim Valenti’s old stuff.” 
“The clothes too?” Michael grimaces.
“Oh, no, these are mine,” he says as he hands Michael a bundle of clothes. “Bathroom’s through that door there if you want to shower. There should be an extra toothbrush and towels under the sink.”
Michael nods, and then scoffs when he sees the Air Force logo on the t-shirt Alex hands him. Alex rolls his eyes at him as he heads back out into the living room to distribute clothes to the rest of his guests. 
It takes some time getting everyone settled—the sheets on the other beds need to be changed and Liz and Rosa have some questions about the giant hole in the wall in the basement—but soon enough, Alex heads back to the master bedroom. When he gets there, he sees Michael standing by the far side of the bed, water weighing down his curls and a pair of Alex’s sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He isn’t wearing a shirt either, the Air Force tee Alex gave him sitting on the comforter on Alex’s side of the bed.
Alex isn’t sure if this is an act of protest against the United States Armed Forces or if Michael is simply trying to drive him insane, but either way, Alex scoops up the t-shirt on his way to the ensuite bathroom along with the emergency crutches he keeps here and another pair of sweats for himself. 
He goes through his nightly routine without issue, grateful that he’d gotten around to buying a shower chair for the cabin so he can actually wash the last few days off his skin. 
He’s expecting Michael to be asleep when he gets back, but instead he finds him sitting crosslegged in bed with the lights still on, his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. Alex’s heart aches at the sight.
“Hey,” he says softly as he makes his way over to the bed. 
Michael looks up at him, an inscrutable look on his face, and waits for him to speak. 
“I’m not going to ask you if you’re okay because there’s nothing about today that has been okay,” Alex tells him, “but I’m here if you want to talk.”
A small smile tugs at Michael’s lips. “Thanks,” he says.  
When he doesn’t say anything else, Alex gets into bed with him, resting his crutches in the narrow space between the bed and the nightstand. Michael gets the lights with his powers, plunging the room into darkness, and Alex lies down on his back while his eyes adjust, too aware of Michael shifting in bed beside him to really let himself relax enough to sleep. 
It’s a few moments later when Michael lets out a huff that sounds a little like a laugh.
“What?” Alex asks, turning to look at him. He can just see the curve of Michael’s nose in the moonlight bleeding through the curtains.
“Nothing, I just—“ Michael starts before he sighs again, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “It’s a little ridiculous that this time last year we were dealing with your homicidal father and now we’re dealing with mine. The more things change the more they stay the same, I guess.”
Michael says it like it’s funny, but Alex feels a twinge in his chest at the thought of Michael going through what he went through last year. Feeling unsafe around your parent is a special kind of pain, one Alex knows intimately, and it’s the last thing he would have ever wanted for Michael. He’s been through enough.
 On impulse, Alex reaches across the bed for Michael’s hand. It takes some searching, but eventually he finds it resting on top of the comforter between them. He half expects Michael to pull away from him, but he threads their fingers together instead. Michael’s palm is warm against his own, his grip secure, and Alex feels his eyes begin to burn as something inside his chest settles at the touch. 
He swallows down the emotion in his throat as he tells him, “We’re gonna figure this out.” 
“You don’t know that,” Michael says, scarcely louder than a whisper.
“Yeah, I do,” Alex insists. “Jones may have crazy alien powers we can’t comprehend, but we have the Lockhart Machine. If it was your mother who built it, it could hold the key to taking him down.”
At the mention of his mother, Michael goes quiet again, and Alex watches his chest rise and fall with the deep breath he takes. 
“You really think she built it?” Michael asks at last, hesitation in his tone. 
Alex gets it—this machine, if it works like the radios the Valentis had, could have alien glass with his mother’s voice inside. It makes sense that Michael doesn’t want to get his hopes up and invite the crushing disappointment he’ll feel if it doesn’t.
Alex squeezes his hand reassuringly as he answers, “I think if there’s anyone who can find out for sure, it’s you.”
Michael is silent for another long moment, so long that Alex thinks he’s done with the conversation, before he finally asks, “Why are you being so nice to me?” 
“What do you mean?” Alex asks, taken aback by the question.
Michael shifts onto his side to look at him directly. “Yesterday you didn’t want me anywhere near what you were doing and now you’re holding my hand and telling me it’s all gonna be okay if we work together,” Michael says, lifting their joined hands off the bed for emphasis. “What’s changed?”
Alex’s throat clicks as he swallows, something like shame weighing down the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t meant to make Michael feel like he didn’t want him around or that he wasn���t useful.
“I’m sorry,” Alex apologizes. “I was just scared.”
“Of what?” Michael presses.
“Of what Deep Sky would do if they found out about you,” he answers. “I knew if you kept investigating the bats, you would find Deep Sky sooner or later and I was terrified that for all their talk about changing narratives and building bridges between humans and aliens that they wouldn’t be any different than my father if they actually met one.” 
“Well, you could have told me that,” Michael says after a moment, his voice softer than the accusatory tone Alex is anticipating. “I would have understood.”
“But would you have let it go if you knew you were onto something?” Alex asks. 
“Not a chance in hell,” Michael admits, something like a smile playing at his lips. 
Alex sighs heavily, expecting the answer but no less happy at being proven right. 
“But being cagey and lying to me about what you knew didn’t make me want to let it go either,” Michael continues. 
“I know,” Alex says. “I just thought—If I didn’t try to protect you and just let you walk into something like that and you got hurt, I… I would never forgive myself.” 
Alex feels Michael’s thumb caress the back of his hand and closes his eyes at the sensation, letting it wash over him and remind him that Michael is here, that he’s safe—that he hasn’t failed him yet.
“Well, it was for nothing anyway,” Alex sighs as his eyes drift open once more. “Turns out you’re the whole reason they wanted to hire me in the first place, so—“
“Wait, what?” Michael asks, raising his head off his pillow to look at him better, and Alex curses his own sleep deprivation for letting him admit that so easily. “I thought they scouted you because of your dad.”
He swallows audibly before he answers, “That’s part of it too.” 
“But not all of it,” Michael says, not a question but a confirmation. “What, did they think they could get an alien on their side if they played the long game with you?” 
“Probably, yeah,” Alex says, hoping that’ll satisfy him.
Michael must sense that Alex is holding something back, though, because he releases his hand and sits up on the bed next to him. “Alex, what aren’t you saying?” 
Alex sighs and pushes himself up against the headboard so he and Michael are on the same level. He pulls his left leg in toward his chest protectively while Michael looks at him, his eyes intense and expectant.
Alex finds the words eventually. “Ramos wanted me to join Deep Sky because he thinks I view life differently than other people.”
“Because you already know aliens exist?” Michael guesses, his head quirked to the side.
God, is he really gonna make me say it? Alex thinks, his stomach dropping at the thought.
But then he takes in Michael’s earnest confusion, how far away the fact that Alex still loves him must be from his mind that he still doesn’t get it, and realizes they can’t keep doing this to each other—talking in riddles and euphemisms because it’s easier than being honest. That’s not who Alex wants to be anymore, and it’s certainly not what Michael deserves.
“Alex?” Michael prompts him, his voice dipping with concern, and Alex thinks, Fuck it. 
He’s already made a few major confessions tonight—what’s one more?
“Because I’m in love with one,” Alex admits at last, his heart thundering behind his ribs as he braces for Michael’s reply.
There’s a beat where Michael does nothing but stare at him blankly, the words taking a moment to register in his ears, before he asks, eyes almost comically wide, “You’re in love with me?” 
Alex laughs humorlessly, his eyes beginning to burn again as he answers, “Of course I am.”
“But I thought—you and Nazi guy—?“ Michael starts.
“Are over,” Alex finishes for him. “Forrest was nice and fun to hang out with, but he’s not you. He’ll never be you.”
A second and a year pass in the excruciating moment Michael takes to process that statement. It makes him feel raw and impossibly exposed, like Michael is holding his beating heart in his hands and Alex is begging him not to break it, but the next thing Alex knows Michael is pushing into his space and capturing his lips in a harsh and desperate kiss. 
Alex’s heart nearly bursts with relief, his leg dropping back down to the mattress. He reaches up to cup both of Michael’s cheeks to keep him close, his days-old stubble a pleasant scratch against his palms. 
Michael breathes a contented sigh against his mouth as he tilts his head for a better angle and tries to deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking out against Alex’s bottom lip. Alex opens for him without a moment’s hesitation and as soon as Michael licks into his mouth, Michael’s tongue sliding across his own, Alex feels like he’s been set on fire, the desire he’s been suppressing for over a year now flaring hot and inexorable inside of him. 
Alex wants with an intensity that almost scares him, his cock stirring against his thigh already and Michael’s barely even touched him. The feeling amplifies when Michael throws his leg over Alex’s hips and settles heavily over his lap, the solid weight and warmth of him pulling a moan from Alex’s throat.
Michael swallows the sound eagerly as he snakes his arms behind his neck, his hips shifting restlessly over Alex’s lap as he kisses him. Alex drops his hands from Michael’s face to wrap around his waist instead, pulling him closer until they’re nearly chest to chest. 
One of them has to break the kiss eventually, and as Alex gasps for air with his head tipped back against the headboard, he can see Michael looking down at him with adoration in his eyes. He takes Alex’s face in his hands and laughs, a soft, wet sound, before he kisses him soundly once more. 
“I love you so much,” he murmurs against his lips, and Alex’s grip tightens as he feels those words brush against his skin and settle in his heart.
Alex leans that little bit forward to kiss him again, slow and languid this time as the heat continues to simmer between them. Michael peels Alex’s shirt over his head and begins to rock gently against him, his ass rubbing back and forth over Alex’s growing erection with every movement of his hips. 
He can tell that Michael’s getting hard too, can feel the heat of his cock through his borrowed sweatpants. Alex removes his hand from Michael’s waist and slides it lower until he feels Michael’s happy trail peeking out above his waistband. 
He strokes his thumb over the hair there, teasing the skin at the edge of the fabric without ever dipping beneath it. Michael squirms against him with a soft, plaintive whimper when he does that, so Alex gives him what he wants, lets his hand slip lower so he can rub his palm over the hard line of Michael’s cock, relishing the way Michael moans softly into his mouth as his hips twitching closer on instinct. 
“Are we really doing this right now?” Alex pulls away to ask, his thumb rubbing a slow circle around the head of Michael’s dick through the soft fabric. 
“Are you saying you want to stop?” Michael asks him, tipping forward until their foreheads meet.
“No,” he answers.
“Then yeah,” Michael breathes, reaching down between them to cover Alex’s hand with his own. “I think we’re doing this.”
“In that case,” Alex says, “I want you in my mouth.”
“God, yeah,” Michael whispers, his cock jumping beneath Alex’s hand at the thought.
Alex gives him a hard kiss before he pulls back to say, “On your back.”
Michael climbs off of Alex’s lap without another word. He rolls over onto his back next to him, his thighs falling open to give Alex room to work with. 
Alex slips between them easily and moves in to kiss him again, once on the lips before he begins pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down his chin. He lingers at his neck, sucking a bruise into the spot underneath his jaw that he knows drives Michael fucking crazy. 
Michael rewards him with a choked-off moan, his legs spreading wider around his hips. Alex wishes he had the time—and supplies—to ruin him properly, work him open with his tongue and fingers until he’s a keening, whimpering mess before he fucks him like he deserves. For now, though, his mouth will have to do.
Alex can feel Michael’s pulse jackrabbit against his lips as he continues down the column of his throat, Michael’s hands burying themselves in his hair. He dips his tongue into the hollow of his collarbone before he slips further down his chest, cupping Michael’s pecs in his hands and squeezing just enough to get a reaction from him before his mouth latches on to one of his nipples.
He scrapes his teeth against the bud before soothing the hurt with his tongue and Michael’s breath catches in his throat again. He’s always been so sensitive, so responsive to Alex’s touch, and Alex can’t get enough of it.
When he’s teased both of his nipples to hard buds, Alex starts to move lower still, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down the length of his belly until he stops right above the waistband of his pajamas.
“Alex,” Michael moans as Alex sucks another bruise into his skin, his fingers tightening their grip on his hair. “Please.”
Alex gives one final kiss to the sharp angle of Michael’s hip bone before he sits up to pull his pants off. He drops them off the side of the bed carelessly before he settles between Michael’s legs once more, running his palms along the soft skin of his inner thighs and enjoying the way the muscle jumps beneath his fingertips.
Michael’s cock leaks against his belly, flushed and wet at the tip. Alex wastes no more time getting his mouth on him, lapping at the pool of precome shining against his skin before he takes the slick, swollen head into his mouth. He revels in the feel of it forcing his mouth wide open and moans softly at the bitter taste he catches on his tongue. 
Alex looks up at Michael through his lashes as he starts to suck him, sinking down onto his cock a little lower with every pass of his lips. Michael’s got his bottom lip caught painfully between his teeth, his eyes trained hungrily on the way his cock is slipping in and out of Alex’s mouth. 
The soft, needy whimpers Michael makes as Alex swallows around him are music to his ears, stoking the fire inside of him until the pressure in his own cock becomes unbearable. Alex grinds his hips down against the mattress for relief, but it only makes him more desperate to come. He slides one of his hands straight into his own pants and groans around Michael’s cock as he starts to fuck his fist.
It’s not much longer that Michael’s hips start to twitch against the mattress and his fingers tighten their grip on Alex’s hair. He barely gets out a warning, “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” before he’s pulsing hot and wet across Alex’s tongue. Alex swallows it greedily, moaning softly as he works Michael through the rest of his orgasm and keeps chasing his own with eager, shallow thrusts. 
When Michael’s had enough, Alex pulls off of his cock and buries his face against his hip as he comes quietly over his own fist, making a mess of the inside of his underwear. He’ll probably be embarrassed about that later, but for now he’s content to come down to the feeling of Michael gently petting his hair.
“Get up here,” Michael says when he’s recovered the ability to speak, tugging lightly on the ends of Alex’s hair to get his attention. 
Alex groans as he lifts his head off Michael’s hip and maneuvers himself until he’s lying next to him again, his stump crossed over Michael’s thigh. 
“Did you—?” Michael cuts off, eyes caught on the sticky mess on Alex’s hand now that he’s pulled it free from his pants.
“Yeah,” Alex admits, a little sheepishly. 
Michael stares at his hand for a long second before he grabs his wrist and pulls his hand closer to his face. He looks Alex in the eye as he sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, grunting softly as he licks them clean.
“Fuck,” Alex whispers, his cock twitching in vain against his thigh at the sight and feel of Michael’s tongue sliding between his fingers.
“You missed sucking my cock that bad, huh?” Michael asks when he lets them fall from his mouth, voice low and rough as gravel as he pushes into Alex’s space, so close he can smell himself on Michael’s breath. 
Alex lets out a shuddering breath. “Yes,” he answers.
Michael leans in to kiss him, quick and dirty and possessive, before he pulls back and says, “Guess I’m just gonna have to wait until the morning to return the favor then.”
“I guess so,” Alex says, hooking his clean hand around the back of Michael’s neck to bring him in for another one.
Michael kisses him back eagerly for a long moment before he pulls away. “Be right back,” he says, and climbs out of bed.
While he’s in the bathroom, Alex shimmies his dirty sweatpants and underwear off his legs and onto the floor. It’s only another minute before Michael’s back, a damp washcloth gripped between his fingers. 
It’s warm against Alex’s skin as Michael uses it to clean him up, and when they’re done they settle down for bed, Alex’s head resting on Michael’s chest and his arm thrown across his waist.
And as Alex finally closes his eyes for the night, his thoughts naturally drift to all the problems they’ll be facing tomorrow morning:
Saving Kyle. 
Freeing Maria. 
Stopping Jones. 
Unlocking the secrets of a mysterious 50 year old alien device and hopefully not going insane while trying.
But as the steady sound of Michael’s heartbeat lulls him to sleep, the loudest thought in his head is that Michael loves him. 
Whatever happens come morning, they’ll deal with it together.
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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years ago
Text
Sing me my song.
summary: Harry’s feeling insecure after he sees his girlfriend interact with her ex.
word count: 2.7k
warnings: fluff with some angst, happy ending tho. 
a/n: this was requested by @hazzalightsupmyworld, hope you like it! Let me know what you think :) 
Find the rest of my masterlist here.
*:・゚✧ ✧゚・: *:・゚✧ ✧゚・:
Relationship wise, Y/N has never been one with luck. She has never had the ability to jump from one relationship to other, it just wasn’t who she was. Instead, she spent several years being in love with the same person.
Ariana and Y/N met after they shared a studio session back in 2015. They wrote some songs together for Ariana’s upcoming album at that time. It took them two months and several cups of coffee to fall in love. Their relationship was mostly private, as neither of them wanted curious eyes all over their every move. Of course the media eventually caught up the two women weren’t just friends, but were romantically involved and after Ariana’s album dropped, it looked pretty serious.
However timing just wasn’t on their side, and for different reasons, they ended up going separate ways. Although that didn’t stop them from remaining friends, Y/N was still in love with her ex-girlfriend. She stayed there through tough times and not even once not dropped everything if Ariana called.
It was some time after their breakup when they found their way back to each other. They thought it was only fair to give it another shot, but it just didn’t work out. They both wanted different things and together came to the conclusion they were better off as friends, so Y/N and Ariana called it quits before they hurt the other bad enough they wouldn’t be able to be friends in the future.
For a lot of time, Y/N thought she wouldn’t be able to fall in love again, or at least have a somehow serious relationship with someone else. It took her time, but eventually she got there. With every day that passed, it got easier to move on.
And that’s when she met Harry.
A kind, shy man who has shown her a completely different side of the world, one that she was completely oblivious of before he came into her life. Although Harry was sure since the beginning about his feelings for her, it took Y/N a little while to open up to him and allow him to take her on a date. Sure, they hung out and stuff, but it was always with other people around in a friendly environment. Now there was nothing wrong with that, but Harry wanted more.
Almost a year after they first met, Harry and Y/N finally started dating. Things were great between the two of them. They both felt like there was something very… real in what they had. Quite frankly, they had never felt like this before. It truly felt like they were building a life together that could easily become a forever thing, and even though for some people it could be scary, for them it wasn’t. It felt good to have something stable after a long time of trying to find something that felt completely real and honest.
It wasn’t until Y/N felt like she was 100% over Ariana that they started talking again. Of course, they had missed each other but they both agreed it wouldn’t be so healthy to try to move on without putting some sort of distance between them. For them, it was so easy to become close friends again. It was like the old times, just with a few boundaries they had agreed on.
Last time Y/N saw her, was on Ariana’s first show of her tour. She had gone to support her, however she did not join her on tour like last time. And it was fine, honestly. Y/N felt like her life was complete now that she had her boyfriend and her best friend in it.
Now Y/N found herself spending more time in London with Harry than anywhere else in the world. And it was slowly starting to become her second home.
Around August, after taking a shower before getting ready to go out with Harry, Y/N received a text. It was from Ariana, she was inviting her to her next concert in London that was in a few days. Y/N bit her lip, thinking what it was best to do. Honestly? She wanted to go. It would be really nice to go see her perform after a few months of not seeing each other, and she could always bring Harry so he’d have a good time too.
“Babe, are you ready? Reservation’s at seven o’clock.” Harry came out of their walk-in closet with his clothes on his hands.
“Yeah, one second.” Y/N sent Ariana a quick text saying she’d ask Harry before looking up at him. “Hey, do you want to go to a concert this weekend?”
“Sure, who are we seeing?”
“Ariana.”
Now, Harry knew their story and how big of a roll Ariana was on his girlfriend’s life, and although it made him insecure at times (not that he’d ever say a word to her about it), he has come to accept that. Also, it wasn’t like Ariana was a stranger to him. They were also friends, just never been really close.
“I mean, I’m down. It’ll be fun if we go.” He shrugged, deciding it shouldn’t have to be a big deal.
“Awesome. I’ll tell her we’re going.” She smiled.
Inside of his head, Harry tried to convince himself they’d have a good time, and everything was going to be fine, although he wasn’t feeling so confident at the moment.
//
Saturday rolled in and all Y/N could talk about was the concert. She planned an outfit along with hair and makeup that with go along with her clothes. She was excited but also a little nervous. They’d most likely go backstage after the show, and it would be the first time the three of them would be together in the same room.
Harry has called a car that would drive them to the O2 Arena. Unfortunately, they ran a little late due traffic so when they arrived, they had to take her seats in the VIP box immediately because the show was about to start. Harry wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder as they stood there waiting. Now, normally he wouldn’t be anywhere touchy with her if they were in public, but he was feeling particularly clingy today so he didn’t care if tomorrow there would be a billion of pictures of the two of them all over the internet.
The lights when out and the music started, making the twenty thousand people in the arena erupt in screams.
Aside from the two of them, there were other people in the VIP box. A couple of Ariana’s friends Y/N knew and some celebrities.
So far they were having a good time. Harry let loose a little and started dancing with Y/N too. He screamed the lyrics he knew and jumped around just like everyone else. After the fourth song passed, the energy lowered a little as a slower song came into the set list.
Y/N swallowed hard when she recognized the melody. R.E.M. was a song Ariana told her a long ago was written about Y/N a little before they broke up for the second time. In complete honesty, she loved the song. She loved it when Ariana showed it to her that night they stayed up until 2am just talking, long before it was out to the world, and she loved it now that she was hearing it along with twenty thousand people.
It brought a lot of memories back and the song that followed did not help.
Harry noticed her sudden change of behavior but chose to not point it out. Instead, he gave her hand a squeeze that quickly snapped her back to reality. She looked up at him and smiled, leaning into him a little.
Songs like Moonlight, Sometimes or Thinking Bout You, Y/N knew weren’t on the original set list of the concert. They were old songs Ariana didn’t really sing anymore, mainly because they were about her, and she was singing them now.
It only made her more nervous to step into backstage after the concert. And it wasn’t about any lingering feelings, truly. It just was kind of a lot to take in. She was in love with the woman for a long time, for the love of God.
One song before the concert ended, they decided to head backstage to avoid the crowd afterwards. Someone from the security team leaded the way to them and some other people who had the same idea and they waited patiently for the show to end.
“Did you have a good time?” She asked him.
“I did, haven’t danced like that in quite some time.”
“Me too.”
The couple held hands and stayed a little behind. There were people everywhere, both from the staff and friends that were hanging around. They heard Ariana say her goodbyes to the public before she ran off the stage. People rounded her to congratulate her for the show, she went around giving hugs to everybody until her eyes landed in Y/N.
Both girls squealed and crashed into a hug. “You’re here!”
“I promised I’d come, Ari.” Y/N said sweetly.
“I’m so happy you did. I changed the set list after you texted me.” Ariana gave her a dimpled smile, looking directly at her eyes.
“So I noticed.”
Harry caught awkwardly, not really knowing what to do with himself. Ariana and Y/N broke the eye contact as the first one went and hugged Harry. “Thank you for coming, Har.”
“Thank you for the invitation. We had a great time.” He didn’t really mean to, but subconsciously he emphasized the we.
“I’m happy you did.” She said. “I was thinking we could have dinner afterwards. Courtney’s also here somewhere.”
“Absolutely.” Y/N was quick to answer.
“Great, let me take a shower and grab my shit before we go.” Ariana walked away towards her dressing room.
“Do we have to go?” Harry almost whined.
“C’mon, it would be fun. Please?” She gave him those damn puppy eyes she knew he couldn’t resist. So he sighed and nodded, making her squeal. Y/N hugged him before she gave him a quick peck on the lips. “We won’t stay so long, I promise.”
Although he agreed on going, Harry kept quiet for most part of the dinner. Ariana and Y/N sat in front of the other so they were talking the whole time, giggling about things Harry did not understand as they were inside jokes they had. He did not feel comfortable at all by the end of the night, and it didn’t help the fact that Y/N was not acknowledging him.
“You need a ride home?” Ariana asked after dinner was paid and everyone was starting to get up from their seats.
Y/N was about to speak but Harry cut her off. “I have called a car, thank you though.” He didn’t want to sound rude, but he didn’t think he could stand a whole car ride with them probably seating next to each other giggling and whispering things.
“Oh, alright.” Ariana answered slowly. “I’ll be in London until next week, maybe we can meet up?” She said to Y/N.
“Totally, I’ll text you.”
The pair hugged tightly. Ariana waved at Harry a little awkwardly as she has already sensed his jealousy building up.
“Have you really called a car?” Y/N asked when it was only the two of them.
“Are you talking to me now?” He couldn’t help but say. He has in fact called a car, he did it the second they asked for the check. Y/N sighed, not really wanting to start anything while they were still in public.
Not long after that, a black range rover pulled up and they walked towards it to get in. This time, Y/N didn’t seat in the middle to be close to Harry. Instead, each of them sat by each end of the seat. The ride back to the house was quiet, none of them had really nothing to say to the other, but they were also gathering their thoughts because they knew what was going to go down once they entered the house.
The both of them thanked the driver before getting out of the car and into the house. Y/N took off her shoes and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, Harry following her steps.
“Are you going to tell me what is wrong?” She asked.
“I don’t know. Is there anything wrong?”
“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be like that.” She crossed her arms. “There’s something bothering you and I want to know what it is. Did you not have a good time?”
“I was until you started flirting with your bloody ex.” He finally said.
“Flirting? Harry, I was not flirting with her.”
“Yes, you were. And she was flirting with you too!” He accused. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how she was looking at you!”
“According to you, how was she looking at me?”
“Like she was still in love with you! Didn’t you see? She basically serenaded you back in the concert and had no problem admitting it. ‘I included these songs only because you told me you were coming’” He tried to copy her voice. “For fuck’s sake.”
“Well, I can exactly control what songs she includes in her show!”
“Oh, but you clearly enjoyed it, didn’t you? Must have felt good to have all her attention.”
“Now you’re being mean.” She said.
“No, I’m being honest. And I’m sorry if it makes me mad when your ex is all over you!”
“She was-”
“And you can’t even see it. Can’t you see how fucking insecure it makes me feel whenever you talk so highly of her? How am I supposed to top what you had with her?”
Y/N swallowed hard. “It is not a competition, you know? I don’t spend all our time together comparing what we have with what I had with her.”
“For you it might not be. But I do spend a lot of time worrying about you waking up one day and deciding you don’t love me as much as you love her. After all, you have found your way back to each other once, what assures me it won’t happen again?”
“It won’t.” She stated.
“You don’t know that.” He shakes his head. “What if one day you realize you can always go back to her? You’d leave me in a heartbeat.”
“How can you have such little trust in me? I love you, Harry.” Y/N almost cried out. “When my heart was broken, you were the only one there who helped me glue it back together. You. I would have never agreed on going on a date with you if I wasn’t over her.” She paused. “After I met you, I knew I had to get my shit back together so this,” She motioned the space between them. “would work. Because I wanted it to work. You have given me so much,” Her voice broke. “I don’t think I would ever stop loving you.”
“Baby-”
“And I’m sorry if I today I made you doubt that. It wasn’t my intention at all. I was just… I was excited, you know? You have to understand that while I dated Ariana in the past, I’m not in love with her anymore. Do I love her? Yes, I do. But it isn’t the kind of love I have for you, H. What I had with her had an expiration date, and I knew it. But I also know that I want to be with you forever. You’re my forever, not her.”
Harry chocked a laugh, allowing one tear to roll down his left eye. “You’re my forever too, baby.”
“I’m sorry.” She said again before wrapping her arms around his torso. “I love you so, so much. Please believe me.”
“I believe you, I do.” He mumbled before kissing the top of her head, hugging her back. “I’m sorry for being so insecure.”
“I know it isn’t exactly normal to be close with your ex, and i’m still working on setting boundaries.”
“I appreciate that.”
They both sighed happily, enjoying being in each other’s arms. “Do you get as excited as you were today when you listen to the songs I wrote for you?” He asked quietly after a while.
“Just as excited, if not more. I love it when you sing me my song.”
“The one about us dancing in the kitchen or the one about me eating your pu-”
“Way to ruin the moment, Styles.”
834 notes · View notes
yuyupowers · 3 years ago
Text
aristocrat!seonghwa
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aristocrat!seonghwa x fem!reader
genre: fluff
trigger warning(s): patriarchal society mostly. let me know if there’s anything else!
author’s note: none of the pictures are mine!!
for reference, i’m using british peerage (hierarchy). there are five ranks: baron, viscount, earl (count), marquess, and duke - the highest being duke, and the lowest, baron.
second son of a duke
i imagine seonghwa to be someone who values tradition
unlike hongjoong who finds who finds the numerous aristocratic mannerisms pointless, hwa believes upholding these (rather stringent) rules is a sign of respect
perfect gentleman pt.1
excellent in swordsmanship, horse-back riding, and hunting
well versed in poetry, literature, art, and finance
(can maintain a conversation about politics but honestly it kinda goes over his head)
a bit on the shyer side, but a decent conversationalist
good at keeping the flow and mediating in case anyone becomes a little too heated about their opinions
definitely cares about his and his family’s image
naturally caring and tends to dote on those close to him
(translates into excellent manners)
holds the door open, offers his hand when stepping out of carriages, makes sure to walk on the side closest to traffic, diverts conversation when things are too “distressing,” wouldn’t be caught dead alone with a woman that wasn’t related to him or his fiancée/wife
and surprise, surprise !!
this is where you come in
you’re the second oldest daughter, fourth child out of six; born to an earl
hwa’s family had the highest title bestowed upon aristocracy
whereas your family accumulated more wealth and land than the park family
and since both you and hwa were prime marrying age™, your parents decided upon a mutually beneficial marriage
the first time you met seonghwa was under the watchful eye of both your parents, when the park’s invited your family for dinner
tbh, you were pretty relieved when you met him
“prime marrying age” was different for men, so you were just glad he wasn’t some old geezer
and he seemed like a decent person !!
a well put together gentleman, and his image was only consolidated throughout dinner
all in all, you didn’t have much to complain about from the initial impression
though it was kinda annoying when your little sister would not shut up about how he was the handsome man she’s ever met
even if you agreed
and didn’t she say that when she met woo?
anyways
after the first meeting with the park’s, both your parents set up multiple occasions for you two to meet
whether that be evening walks, picnics in the park, etc,,,
you learned a great deal about seonghwa 
how his favourite is black, how he loved the stars and that his favourite planet was mars
how he loved kids and doted on your youngest siblings (much to your sister’s glee)
how he enjoyed spending a quiet afternoon with you reading dickens, discussing afterwards the contrast between carton and darnay
how he was always considerate of your feelings and opinions
you liked to think you were a decent judge of character and thought overall that seonghwa was a kind and caring person
but you also noticed a few characteristics that-
you wouldn’t say it was off-putting or anything but,,,
it might bother you in the future
see, you were pretty good friends with hongjoong
and while you weren’t as extreme,
(you didn’t sneak out weekly to hang out with a bar maiden that you definitely did not have a crush on)
you certainly agreed with him on certain points
like hwa, you thought that abiding by certain mannerisms = display of respect
but unlike him, you didn’t care all that much about your image
okay, that was a lie.
you couldn’t say you didn’t care about your image
(social ostracization isn’t exactly fun ya feel)
but you thought it was,,,exhausting
it’s one thing to be respectful, but it’s another thing to say things you don’t mean
to fake humility
to undermine people that are supposed to be your “friends” or “one of you”
to be perfect, when “perfect” was such a subjective term anyways
it just felt so fake and that left a bitter taste in your mouth
even now, you could see all the efforts seonghwa made to constantly keep his image of a “perfect gentleman”
with perfect mannerisms and perfect answers and perfect-
yeah, it kinda frustrated you
not to mention how obedient he was?
of course you didn’t fault him for being a dutiful and filial son, but his loyalty blinded him
and it wasn’t like his parents were bad people !!
no, you’d say they were much kinder than the average noble family
especially considering their status
but when they made important decisions for their son without consulting him,
(because they were more experienced, because they knew better, etc,,,)
and he accepted whatever decision they handed to him?
well,,,
nevertheless, despite being his fiancée, you, by this point, had realistically had known seonghwa for a couple months
and you didn’t feel like it was your place 
(at least not yet)
to point this out
so the two of you continued your cordial but emotionally distant meetings
that is until “the incident” (as hwa fondly likes to call it)
okay, so-
one day you paid hwa a visit and the two of you decided to take a walk in his family’s garden
chattering about this and that
a lovely time !!
it was a bit overcast, but it didn’t look too threatening
so the two of you ignored the clouds looming in the horizon and wandered deep into the garden
big mistake
the weather took a turn for the worst, and soon it was pouring
by this point seonghwa was a little panicked
he knew that for women, getting ready could be excessively long and tenuous task
(courtesy of his little sister’s complaints)
and now !! you were getting rained on !! because he didn’t bring an umbrella !! just in case !!
!!!!
he turns to you, ready to shield you with his jacket and lead you back to the manor
but he’s at a loss by what he sees
he had expected you to be upset, to huddle closer to him, to,,,idk, maybe reprimand him for this thoughtlessness??
but instead, he finds you staring up at the dark sky, eyes shimmering with barely contained glee with the biggest smile he’s ever seen from you adorning your lips
he likes your smile
and if he was already confused (he was), he was about to become even more so
because the next thing he knows, you’re hiking your dress in one hand and grabbing his in the other, running through puddles of water and mud and everything in between, laughter falling from you like the rain
up until this point, you had been acting like the perfect (you hate that word) lady
polite, demure, charming-
in public settings, you only spoke when spoken to, with a voice that was purposely soft and soothing
you chatted with his mother and sisters about traditionally feminine things over tea with impeccable manners
whenever you two met, you were always prim and proper; never a strand of hair out of place
but here you were, getting not only yours but his clothes soggy and muddy, laughing without a care about how pleasant it sounded or how loud it was
seonghwa liked to think he wasn’t a judgemental person-
he wasn’t repulsed or anything by your sudden change in demeanor
just.
really confused
and when you looked back, you could tell,if his expression was anything to go by
but your grin only grew wider, because you could work with this
he wasn’t enjoying himself per say; a bit too confused and bit too stiff to do so
but he wasn’t horrified or disgusted
okay maybe he was a little grossed out; he liked to be clean thank you very much
you could work with this.
and so over the next few months, you showed him things he never dreamed of doing
some of which he liked, some of which he didn’t
some he was willing to try, some, less
like sneaking into the restricted section of the library (he’s never been so scandalized in his life)
or visiting the kitchen in the middle of the night so you could teach him how to make some basic recipes (which he surprisingly enjoyed)
or meeting hongjoong
(“of COURSE it matters if they got the colour wrong?! lord help me you’re the most insufferable person i’ve ever met-”)
and the more the two of you explored, the more he,,,real he became.
and vice versa.
gradually, the mask of perfection he worked so on hard to maintain was slipping before you
don’t get me wrong, he’s still kind and caring and a gentleman
but sometimes he would whine and complain when you encouraged him to do something he was less than enthusiastic about (usually something that involved getting him messy)
or he made The Face™ (the disgusted one) to you and when he didn’t like something or someone
or he would be stupidly stubborn about some random fact that you KNEW was wrong but he just WOULDN’T admit if even when you showed him proof
(“seonghwa for the last time toads don’t give you war-” “LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU” “eye-”)
once, he even playfully stole the strawberry from your cake
(big mistake. he’s never doing that again. he never knew a woman could move so fast or be so scary.)
it made you so, so happy because the two of you were finally getting to know each other
actually know each other
then one day, while the two of you were reading underneath a tree at the park
“,,,hey love?” (hwa)
“yes?”
“why are we doing this?” 
“what do you mean, dear?”
“i mean,,,i’m not complaining, but i guess,,,why did you decide to show me this part of you? the part that runs around in the rain?” hwa
you don’t reply right away
instead, you shut your book and idly stared at the willow swaying over the pond, wind running its fingers through its drooping leaves
after a few moments of silence
“,,,i wanted to know you and what you believed in. actually believed in.”
seonghwa tilts his head slightly to the side
“love, i hardly think my convictions have changed”
“but do you know what your convictions are?”
and you know when you hear something that resonates with you?
something that strikes deep in your core and makes you rethink everything you’ve know?
yeah,,,this is one of those moments
now it was seonghwa’s turn to set his book aside, falling deep in thought
after an unnaturally long stretch of silence, you began to panic a little
because ?? maybe you misread the situation and got a little too comfortable-
cause i mean you were questioning his core values, which is something he takes very seriously
o god you messed up didn’t you o crap you need to apolog-
“will you help me figure it out?”
“,,,huh??”
“will you help me figure out my convictions?” he asked
and you swear, you’ve never seen such a smile from seonghwa
one that conveyed a plethora of emotions, ranging from honesty and vulnerability, to confusion and loss, to lightness and warmth
it filled you with an unnameable feeling
like something sliding into place, fitting perfectly; like it was always meant to be there, filling you with comfort
shyly intertwining your hands for the first time, you looked up to meet his gaze with a pattering heart and a smile matching his own
“,,,of course.”
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carmen-sandie-go · 3 years ago
Note
your stories scare the shit out of me. How do I stay safe as a tourist ?
First off so sorry but its the truth. I could talk about more but i would just traumatise you guys...
Okay lets get into it
If you want to use public transportation, go for Ola or Uber. Since you are a non Delhite, the auto wala will get that by your accent and will overcharge for sure. Also if you're not in hurry go for metro ESPECIALLY if you are a girl (separate coach)
Avoid any possible brawl, on road, in pubs ,anywhere. Guns are very common here, and you never know who has it under his belt. Just ignore if possible. If you get into serious trouble, just Call 100 , Delhi Police is quite responsive and will be helpful.
To avoid phone snatching here that is very common here, try to keep your phone in the opposite side of the ongoing traffic, if you're walking. (just dont use it in the open road)
Whenever you have to leave your belongings in car such as Laptop, iPad etc. always keep them in car trunk, they should not be visible from windows, otherwise within a minute the glass will be broken and you will find it missing. I cant stress this enough my brother was hospitalised and i left my laptop in the car in a hurry and it got broken into in like minutes.
Ignore beggers at Red light, metro stations, you give it to one , ten more will appear.
Avoid two-wheelers if you are not an expert. Driving in Delhi is not the same as driving in Pune or Chandigarh. A lot of rash driving takes place. Safety comes first.
Don't go to markets like Sarojini Nagar and Janpath if you can't bargain. Take a local along or else you'll be looted.
CARRY A PEPER SPRAY !!
avoid late night outings irrespective of whether you are a man or woman. Delhi is not good at night so better spend your nights at home.
Saying sorry goes a long way here. I have seen people fighting over trivial issues. But if you apologize be rest assured the other person will laugh it off.
Pollution is coming be ready.
there's no dearth of organised crime in this city and it flourishes secretly. It is the political capital as well (lots of powerful people),do not get involved or you'd really pay a heavy price.
Once again Delhi Police PCR is usually ultra prompt. Call 100, if you feel unsafe or suspicious or in some emergency/help.
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hetalia-has-a-secretary · 3 years ago
Note
Axis and Allies when they run in to their s/o who just dipped out one day 7 years ago with no warning or explanation, except she’s a mom now! And hey that kid looks... uh... kinda familiar... and they’re how old now?
(Basically Axis and Allies find their ex and meet their child who is a dead ringer for their country parent)
Mmmm angst *slurps the spilled angst off the floor*
Ffff- I need to come up with reasons as to why their S/O do this~ (• J •;)
Oh and C/N means Child's Name.
Allies and Axis see their S/O with their kid of 7 years.
Allies:
America:
His S/O ran into him on their way home, and the store they were in had something extremely specific they couldn't find anywhere.
So they took their chances, not really expecting to see America again.
But they did, and it was a long pause in silence.
S/O could physically how hurt he was, but the sight of a child, even if it was obviously his, made him turn around to walk off.
His S/O didn't know what to expect, but him walking away was not one of them. They picked their kid up and went after him.
"Alfie- He's yours..."
He stopped in his tracks, eyes already red, but scrunched in confused anger.
"Why didn't you tell me? After all this time... Why?"
His S/O walked closer to him, not wanting to stir up unwanted attention.
They explained that they were scared their lives wouldn't work out. They were worried he'd be so busy traveling and enjoying life, a new family would weigh him down.
Giving another hard swallow he went to walk away, only for the kid to be eyeing him from his S/O's shoulder.
Neither of them meant to act like this in front of the kid, but none the less America found a way to console them, promising to do what it takes to show how much he cared. About both them, and their child.
Even if it took a few akward phone calls.
England:
His heart shattered. Standing right across the road was his S/O.
And in a spur of the moment he ran across beeping traffic, and stopped barely 10 steps away as he notices the kid.
Part of him hated the fact they ran off, and was happy they crossed paths again. The other part of him wondered if running across a busy road was worth it.
He looked at his S/O, then at the kid, silently asking if it was really his.
A quick nod from his S/O and he immediately knelt down to talk to the kid, making his S/O tear up.
"Hey kiddo. I'm... You must be S/O kid right? I'm an old friend of theirs... My name's Arthur..."
The kid looked up at S/O for approval to interact with this 'stranger', to which they agreed.
"Hi... I'm C/N... How are you?"
England had to fight back tears at this point.
"I'm doing good... Very good. It seems S/I taught you well, you're very polite..."
The kid nodded, saying thank you.
Only later did he find out that his S/O left, thinking he wouldn't want a kid, and it was going to ruin the relationship.
From them on he did everything he could to make up all the lost time, silently worrying over why they'd think he'd wouldn't want a family with them.
France:
He was brutality heartbroken the day they left. Like, this is a HUGE no, no to do to him.
At first he thought they were missing, but when it finally became clear they just left him, he got really cold.
Right up to the point of seeing them in public, on the streets.
Eyes locked, and his S/O expected him to be romantic about, fully preparing to reconnect.
Not what happened. He walked up to them, a crunched up face, obviously smitten with them.
"Why are you showing your face around my home?"
Pain on both sides of the party. His S/I wouldn't be able to get a word in as he assaulted them with questions and accusations as to if they even loved him.
Only when the sound of a small kid calling out for S/O did France freeze.
He was shocked, and looked at his S/O wise eyed.
His S/O gave a vague explanation.
"I'm sorry... But I wanted to raise them outside of a busy city. I told you were I was going to be, didn't you get my letter?"
He shook his head no. Watching his S/O silently cry in front of them.
And in one forgiving swoop he held them close, tears falling from his own eyes as he gave apologies.
After he was done with his S/O, his child was next, he spun them around, immediately repeating the fact he was their father, making the child giggle as well.
China:
Even though he felt close to his S/O he got over it quickly, also being use to people leaving him for whatever reason.
He never expects relationships to last.
But seeing a familiar face, I should say familiar faces, standing at his door made his heart pond, and ache all at once.
He wanted so badly to hold them, but he needed answers.
S/O ride broke down near by, and they needed a place to stay. This was the only place they could think of.
Once the kid was put to sleep, both adults doing an amazing job of keeping their cool, things started to unravel.
He asked about the kid, and why they left. Being told his S/O was simply a bit overwhelmed finding out they were pregnant, so they decided to leave made him almost laugh.
To him it was a ridiculous reason to leave, so he was the one to ask them to stay.
Russia:
He did not do well when he realized his S/O wasn't coming back anytime soon.
He felt their relationship was at its peak, only for them to disappear? Yeah, not going to happen.
His S/O might think they were better off but Ivan, had other plans. He wanted to know why. Was there someone else involved, more specifically.
He hired people to watch them, and when he learned there was a kid involved it angered him. He had to fight every nerve to not go find his S/O himself.
Only when he saw the kids eyes, a brilliant purple, did it click for him.
The reason why they left didn't matter, and he gave them time to change there mind.
When those 7 years past (if even) he went straight to where they were, demanding answers.
His S/O had to explain they were scared having a child around could complicate things. Especially when Ivan himself was trying to change as a person.
That news turned his anger into hurt. He wanted nothing more than to be family with his S/O, and having a kid as well? He already made vows to change, so he became a little more self aware after this event.
He went great lengths to learn about parenting, to the amusement of his S/O.
Though he won't admit it, he is kind of bummed out over the fact he was never able to hold his own kid as a baby.
Axis:
Germany:
Heartbroken wasn't the word to use.
He got a bit more, pig headed for a month or so, but got over it. Assuming it just wasn't meant to be.
However, after seeing a child that looked like a splitting image of him hanging on his S/O's hips said it all.
He literally walked up and straight up asked if the pregnancy was the reason they left.
His S/O sheepishly agreeing.
He gave a sigh, asking them if they'd still be interested in being together.
From there the next few months were spent patching up their relationship.
Japan:
He had to be convinced several times, to leave his room.
Eventually he moved on, but still missed them
So the look on his face when he finds them at an old restaurant they use to meet at, was quite the look.
He cursed himself for the sensation of meeting for the first time.
It was like his body moved on it's own. Up until he spots the kid. Then he tried to backpedal.
Not Because he wasn't happy about being a father (possibly), but he wasn't ready for the news.
He only got so far before his S/O called out his human name. To which he froze and turned around with a bright red face. Obviously understanding the situation.
Surprisingly enough the three of them seemed to connect and get along like it wasn't a super akward moment.
He almost all forgot to ask about why, but saved that question when C/N wasn't around.
He was glad to hear it was just because they were scared. Now he's more than happy to try again, and actually kind of excited to teach this small being about anime... And life things but mostly anime.
Italy:
He's the kind of guy to never get over it.
Even though he's fine on the outside, literally everything I'm his home reminded him of S/O
The amount of whiplash he experienced when finding them in his home town made his skin crawl
To him, it was like seeing a ghost, and it was honestly a bit much. Especially with the tiny clone of him.
Naturally he fainted on the spot.
Later on, in the hands of a medical staff, he and his S/O had a long conversation about the why's, and how's.
His heart still sunk hearing the reason they ran away, was because they didn't want to take away his freedom.
Thing is, his S/O was his freedom. So he listed all the reasons why. Freedom to be him, freedom to admit his fears when others would laugh at him.
They were his source of strength, and safety net. So yeah, he wanted them back. Kid was an added bonus.
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make-me-imagine · 4 years ago
Text
Prompts: “Are you cold?” “No” “Liar” + ‘Wearing their jacket/hoodie’ 
Requested by: @skylett-skyler​
Pairing: Mycroft Holmes x Reader
Gender: Neutral       Triggers: None
Genre: Casual; Little Fluff        Words: 1,771
Notes: I’m sorry it’s not really that fluffy, and doesn’t really have any ‘romantic fluff’, but this is all I could really come up with right now. I hope you like it either way~
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Looking over the case file for Sherlock’s most recent case, you read through the evidence with interest. Apparently the case was so confusing and mixed in with political ties that Sherlock not only asked you for help, but also asked his brother Mycroft, much to his own annoyance. But Sherlock does not like involving himself in the political scene, so he figured his brother would be willing. 
When Sherlock told you Mycroft would be coming around, you tried your best to hide the obvious nervousness that you felt. Sherlock saw it, obviously, but he said nothing. He had been scolded enough times by John to know when to not intervene. He was also slightly amused by it, as he did not understand how you could have feelings for his brother, though he knows you think the same. He also knew that Mycroft himself had feelings for you, which he also found amusing, but to him was more understandable. 
You were annoyed by your own feelings for the older Holmes brother. When you first met him you disliked him and his cocky and somewhat arrogant attitude. But over the last few months you couldn’t help the attraction that seemed to slowly sink in. You would catch yourself getting anxious around him, your eyes often landing on him. You scolded yourself, telling yourself that it would never work. You two were way to different, you bickered with each other a lot, seemingly forming a love hate relationship between you. 
Recently you had been avoiding contact with him, wanting to avoid the growing feelings you had for him. You had convinced yourself that he had no interest in you, though you knew that may not be 100% true. Often when you’d bicker, you thought that he was flirting with you, but you would push the thoughts away. 
As these thoughts were rolling around in your head, you almost missed the fact that Mycroft had entered the room, only becoming aware of his presence when Mrs. Hudson announced his arrival with “Sherlock, your brother is here!”
When Mycroft arrived, you forced yourself to stay focused on the files you were reading. Mycrofts gaze almost immediately landed on you, sitting with your legs crossed, look of concentration on your face as you read, what he assumed, was some case-files. 
“Y/n” he greeted, watching as your eyes lifted to meet his. 
You gave him a small smile, trying to fight the butterflies that had begun to flutter “Hello Mycroft” you greeted him simply before looking back down at the files. Mycroft could barely repress his frown at your apparent indifference to his presence. 
As Sherlock came back into the living room, he had to repress an eye roll as he noticed how intensely his brother was gazing at you “Mycroft” he greeted, before almost immediately getting into the details of the case.
Throughout the time he was explaining the case, he of course noticed the numerous times Mycrofts gaze landed on you, as well as the numerous times you struggled not to look over at him. Getting somewhat annoyed, and tired of not intervening, when Sherlock was done explaining the case he turned to you and Mycroft, he spoke to Myroft “Now I know that you know I don’t quite trust you to tell me all of the information you find out, so I would like for Y/n to go with you” he glanced at you, seeing you hide the surprise you felt at his suggested. 
You and Mycroft looked at each other, Mycroft nodded his head “I will ignore the offense that I feel at your distrust of me brother and agree to your terms” turning to you he spoke again “I have a meeting this evening, so if you are able, I would suggest doing this now”
Looking between him and Sherlock, you thought you saw a small smirk on Sherlocks face. You shrugged your shoulders lightly “I’ve got the time”
“Good” Mycroft rose “Then we should be off” you stood as well, grabbing your things, turning to Sherlock and John he said his farewells as you followed him, after waving a goodbye to the others. 
After exiting 221B you and Mycroft were taken to a nearby embassy, where Mycroft insisted he could get the required information. You then watched as he elegantly got some of the information he needed from multiple people, you broke in here and there, earning more pieces of information. It wasn’t really until this interaction with Mycroft that you realized just how much he and Sherlock were alike.
Finally leaving after what seemed like hours of politicians talking about various topics you had no interest in outside of the case. You had the information you needed. Leaving the embassy, you looked around for Mycrofts car.
Mycroft, upon seeing you looking around spoke up “I thought we’d walk”
You turned and looked at him “To where? Sherlocks flat is miles from here”
He hummed before adjusting his coat “After having to deal with those politicians for as long as we did I don’t quite feel like seeing my brother just yet” you shrugged slightly, somewhat understanding what he meant “So” he began “I thought we would walk up the street here and get some tea” walking past you he began down the road. Of course assuming you would follow, which you did, not sure what else to do.
Catching up to him you walked side by side in silence for a few moments before Mycroft glanced over at you “I was quite impressed with how you were able to get some of that information out of those people” he commented.
Looking over at him you shrugged “I may hate politics, but I’ve learned how to deal with politicians” Mycroft simply smiled as you continued walking. 
After stopping in front of a cafe, Mycroft held open the door for you as you entered. Getting yourself some tea, you sat inside, near the window. After discussing the case for a little, you asked Mycroft about what exactly it was that he did. “Sherlock insists that you ‘are the British government’ is he right?” 
Mycroft chuckled, eyeing you momentarily “Somewhat”
You smiled, shaking your head “You Holmes brothers sure don’t like talking about yourselves do you?” 
Mycroft thought to himself for a moment “I would tell you more in detail” he looked around slightly “somewhere less...public”
Glancing around the near empty cafe you almost laughed, but understood he must be cautious. You looked back at him “I’ll hold you to that” 
Mycroft smirked “So be it” 
You ended up basically interrogating Mycroft about his and Sherlocks upbringing, which he obliged you with, though he did remain somewhat vague about his childhood. Not long later both yours and Mycrofts phones went off. Sherlock had begun texting both of you asking where you were and why it was taking you so long. 
You chuckled as you checked the texts, Mycroft sighed in mild annoyance “Well I suppose I should take you back then, though, slowly I think”
“Just to annoy him further I suppose?” 
He smiled “Of course” 
After leaving the cafe, Mycroft gestured for you to turn right, and begin walking “My car will be at the park up the road, less traffic to get through”
You nodded as you began walking, realizing that the temperature dropped significantly since you entered the cafe. You also realized that you had not worn the proper clothes to stay warm.
Mycroft saw you adjust your thin jacket, as a cool autumn breeze clearly chilled you “Are you cold?” 
As an immediate extinct, thought your not sure why you said “No” 
Mycroft frowned slightly, but was also a little amused “Liar” he said as he began to take of his coat. 
You watched as he turned to offer it to you, raising your hand you smiled “No, that’s alright Mycroft, really I-”
He cut you off buy basically forcing it over your shoulders “I insist” he said with a smile “You are clearly cold”
Hesitating for a second you grabbed the edge of the coat so that it would not fall off “Thank you” you felt your ears burning a little as the interaction “Are you sure you aren’t cold?” 
He shook his head “My suit is thick enough to keep me warm” 
You nodded before a thought popped into your head, realizing you and Mycroft have been together for the last few hours, the afternoon having become evening “You’re not going to be late for your meeting are you?” 
He looked at his watch “I believe I will be right on time” 
As you approached the park, now much warmer in the autumn evening, you saw a familiar car pulling up to you and Mycroft. Opening the door for you he spoke “My driver will take you to Sherlocks, and if you wish he will take you home afterward” 
“What about you?” 
He motioned his head across the street as he spoke “I am having my meeting across the street, no need for a car” 
You looked across the street to see a fancy restaurant “Oh, I see”
Moving to take of his coat he stopped you “Forget it, I will collect it later. It will still be cold when you have to go back to your home” 
“Okay, thank you Mycroft. Though, part of me wont forgive you for leaving me to deal with Sherlock alone now. I suppose that was your plan”
Mycroft chuckled “No, I assure you it wasn’t, I was just enjoying our time at the cafe and lost track of time. If Sherlock berates you in any way, let me know and I will apologize accordingly. Perhaps with dinner” 
You almost missed the last part of his sentence, due to how casually he suggested it “Dinner?” 
“Yes. Besides, you do want to know exactly what it is I do correct?” 
“I thought you didn’t want to discuss it in a public place” 
“It will be a private dinner” he countered, determined to get you to agree.
And you, not really having a reason to refuse, nodded your head “Alright. But expect a scolding, you and I both know that Sherlock will definitely berate me”
Mycroft smiled “Of course” 
Smiling, you began to get into the car, Mycroft bent down to see you “Goodnight Y/n” 
You smiled lightly at him “Goodnight Mycroft” 
Closing the door, Mycroft watched as you drove off, his heart pounding from the interaction, and at his own boldness to finally ask you out to dinner. Part of him was surprised you agreed, but he was overall relieved, and very excited.  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
Ehh, not sure how I feel about this one. I always have a hard time writing for Mycroft I think. 
If you’d like to be added to my taglists (for any show or movie) let me know~
Please consider reblogging, liking or commenting~
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chilling-seavey · 4 years ago
Text
Qui Totum Vult Totum Perdit (d.s.) - 6
A/N Out in the open
Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.
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You may think you understand stress, dear reader, but I can assure you that you do not. You do not understand stress unless you have driven around the city in broad daylight with a body in the trunk of your car. There was only so much guilt that a hat and sunglasses could cover.
“We should stop by the bank…take out some cash before we leave the state.” I suggested, my hands tightening on the wheel slightly as I drove. 
Jonah nodded and reached into the backseat to pulled over his bag to shuffle through it. It was always full of random junk from snacks and a water bottle to notebooks and his wallet and phone charger. He carried his life in that bag. He pulled out said charger and helped himself to the port in my car to plug in his phone.
“Jo.” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Why aren’t you…freaked out?” I asked.
“I am.” Jonah answered as he dropped his bag in the backseat again. “My best friend called me out of the single most important studio session of our careers to get me involved in the murder of his wife. Who wouldn’t be freaked out? Why aren’t you freaked out?”
I shifted my hands on the wheel nervously, “I-I am freaked out. I just…I don’t know what happened at all and I think I’m just in shock.”
“Do you think you killed her?” Jonah asked quietly.
I could sense the nervousness in his voice as if he was scared of me too. I honestly didn’t know what to tell him…I didn’t know what to tell myself to reassure either of us. I loved Avalon. I loved her with almost everything in me. So what would be my motive to kill her? Would our argument about my job be enough to enrage my conscious to see nothing but red?
I could only answer my best friend truthfully. After all, he risked so much to come help me.
“I don’t know.”
Jonah nodded stiffly. He probably expected that reply from me. I had been saying it all morning.
“Well, we’ll go to the bank and check out this J person at the Lincoln motel and see where that takes us.”
Jonah and I were by no means celebrities, but our jobs certainly put us in the spotlight more often than we might have liked – especially in a situation as we found ourselves in with Avalon. Owning one of the top record companies in the country was not an easy feat and the publicity that came with it often made going out in public a bit of a hassle. I couldn’t tell you how many times Avalon and I were interrupted on a date for someone to want to talk to me, slide me a demo, or – for some reason – even get my autograph. Even Hollywood Fix seemed to have a soft spot for Jonah and me.
Avalon hated paparazzi. She hated paparazzi more than any other aspect of my job honestly. They made her nervous and claustrophobic and she always felt completely tense the entire night we were out if the paparazzi greeted us at the restaurant. Seemed like no matter the country they followed us everywhere. Even on our honeymoon we couldn’t catch a break.
“It’s just a few cameras.”
Avalon glanced out the tinted window of the rental car to the sidewalk that was swarming with paparazzi and their crew, waiting for us to step out.
“That’s hardly a few.” she mumbled.
“Just keep your head down and don’t say anything.”
“I can’t just ignore them.” she turned to me, “That’s rude.”
“Well what do you want me to say?” I sighed.
“I want to have a date with my husband that’s not riddled with strangers and their cameras.”
“Sorry to be such a burden in your life, honey.”
“Oh, Daniel, stop that.” she scoffed, shaking her head as she turned back out the window.
I stared at her a moment, her bottom lip held between her teeth and her arms crossed over the chest of the tight tropical dress she wore. I slid my hand over her thigh and gave it a squeeze to get her looking back at me. Her brown eyes were shimmering in anxious tears.
“I want to go back to the hotel.”
“No, no. It’s fine. I promise. I’ll be right beside you.” I assured her, capturing her chin in my hand to pull her lips onto mine for a quick kiss before reaching for the handle on the car door, “Come on.”
Thinking about these things only made me realize how much we actually argued. Maybe how dense I was to her feelings. Did that make me selfish? Well, I’m no perfect man. I can only push that fact on you so much, dear reader.
Jonah and I stared up at the brick bank building in front of us. The few steps to the ATM seemed like a mile. I took out my wallet from my jeans pocket and flicked through it to pull out my credit card with a sigh.
“5k?” Jonah suggested.
“Yeah, sounds about right.” I mumbled, adjusting the cap on my head as I scanned the curb we were parked in front of. “I’ll be quick.”
I stepped out of my car before I could psych myself up anymore and hopped up onto the sidewalk towards the ATM outside the building. I stood close to the machine, head down, and slid my credit card into the slot. I typed in my pin number with shaking hands and waited for my withdrawal request to go through while I tried not to think about what I was hiding in my car just behind me.
The sun beat down on the back of my neck as I hunched over the ATM, trying my best to keep myself in the shadows. It felt like ages had gone by until the machine slid out a stack of one-hundred-dollar bills and returned my card. I kept my head down as I turned on my heel and crashed right into a man walking towards the front doors of the bank.
He must have apologized – I remember him saying something to me – but the fear that our sudden collision injected into my veins had me bowing my head and rushing off to my car a few feet away without a word. I was breathless when I closed the door behind me as if I had just hiked up the Hills and back and I tried to play it off as I flicked through the bills in my hand.
I held out half the stack to Jonah so we could split the total just in-case anything happened to either of us, “Twenty-five-hundred for you. Twenty-five-hundred for me.”
“Great.” Jonah reached into the backseat and grabbed his wallet from his back to tuck the cash safely away and I slipped my half into the glove box of the car.
We had to keep moving so I pulled out of the bank parking lot back towards the main roads while Jonah brought up the address of the motel in the GPS and set the route navigation on. We drove in silence, not even bothering to put on any music, and he scrolled through his phone as we hit some traffic on the freeway.
“The place looks musty as hell.” Jonah said casually.
I glanced over to his phone screen to see him checking out the Expedia site.
“It’s like 1 out of 5 stars. Reviews say bed bugs, broken furniture, unfriendly staff. Why would Avalon want to go within five blocks of this place yet alone meet someone inside?” Jonah mumbled and he set his phone back down to charge.
“Yeah, well, I don’t think the interior design what she was particularly worried about.” I muttered as I switched lanes towards the exit for Pasadena. I couldn’t help but let the jealously come out through my tone of voice.
My phone rang through the Tesla speakers and I glanced at the screen to see Christian calling me for at least the third time since the night before. I declined it.
“Fuck. Why does he need to know where I am so badly?” I grumbled.
“Maybe you should just tell him you’re busy at work.” Jonah suggested.
“It’s none of his business where I am.”
“It’ll get him off your back.”
“It’ll get him asking questions. We really don’t need that.” I sighed tiredly.
Jonah kept quiet.
The Lincoln Motel was right off the freeway and was so closely built under the underpass that it could have passed as a troll under the bridge. Honestly, it sort of felt like that same sort of sense as I pulled into the cracked parking lot of the nearly crumbling orange stucco two-storey building. My white Tesla looked like a diamond in the rough beside the motel and I would have been worried about it being stolen if it wasn’t for the body in the trunk already depreciating the car.
I parked in the spot closest to the building and Jonah and I took a moment to prepare ourselves for not only the person we were going to meet uninvited but also to face the decrepit building firsthand. I leaned forward to see up to the second storey balcony – all the rooms being outdoor entry – and located number nineteen. This certainly was not what I had planned when I woke up that morning.
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Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee​ @randomlimelightxxx​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @tempus-ut-luceant​ @br4nd1s​ @xkelsev​ @hiya-its-amber​ @sexyseavey15​
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1994sunflower · 4 years ago
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heaven to you. ii (m.c)
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pairing: michael clifford x reader
genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff
word count: 7.4k
involves: bad boy!michael, college!au, jealous!michael, established relationship, language, oral (f receiving), fingering, exhibitionism, dirty talk, daddy kink, choking, size kink, face slapping (consensual), hair pulling, spitting kink, praise, degredation/name calling, innocence kink, virgin kink, mentions of drinking, michael is kind of really cruel in this one
summary: michael trusted you. but it was hard to feel comfortable when the picture-perfect man was trying to move in on his girlfriend. it was even harder to think that y/n would probably be better of with him than with michael. so he did what he had to do, even if it was cruel, even if it could end with his girlfriend thinking he was the monster everyone else saw him as.
part one
+
It was sufficient to say that Michael had been pissed off for weeks. Even more than he usually was. And he knew exactly what the cause was. Which somehow made it worse, because he couldn’t do anything about it. Not unless he wanted a very angry girlfriend on his hands.
Michael was proud of his distance from most people, he didn’t like the drama or the vulnerability that came with them. Unfortunately, his best friend Ashton, did not share the same sentiment. No, when he took a liking to someone, he was around them often. And, unfortunately, Michael was often along for the ride.
So even though he hated Justin from the moment he saw him, which was only invigorated when his connection with Michael’s girlfriend was revealed, he still had to see and hear an awful lot of him. Even after all his attempts to block him out, including demanding that him and his two friends no longer be allowed over. Too bad he was demanding it from the only person that didn’t seem to be scared of him.
Every time Michael finally decided to go to class, after much begging from you, he saw the guy walking around and touring campus. Every time he went out to eat, he saw the guy on the same street walking out of another store.
Every time Ashton had Chis and Charlie over, he would hear about who Justin was. He had a feeling Ashton did it on purpose, to push his buttons, asking those two about the one person Michael did not want to hear about. Even when he wasn’t in the room, Justin was still there.
He heard all about how intelligent he was - top of his class in high school, valedictorian, student council president - and how rich he was - living in a mansion in the best neighborhood, neighbors with the fucking governor. He even heard about his philanthropy work - how he networked with multiple charities even as a teenager (including founding his own) and was the planner of any and all fundraisers in the area.
And frankly, Michael was sick of hearing how you and Justin were perfect for each other. Sick of thinking how much better off you would be with someone like him. Even if they never explicitly said it, he could tell by the uncomfortable glances thrown his way that they were all thinking it.
It had gotten so bad that the only moment where he didn’t feel angry was when he was with his girlfriend. It felt so solid, real, when he had you in his arms that he nearly felt content. Which is not an emotion he felt often. So as he sat then, with you next to him on the patio of a campus cafe with his arms draped across your shoulders and you sitting half on his lap and half on your chair, he didn’t have an angry scowl on his face. Instead, he had something that could likely pass as a smile and soft eyes that looked down at his small girlfriend lovingly.  
He watched you pick at your muffin gingerly, eating only bits of it at a time as you read from a notebook in front of you. But he could tell your mind was somewhere else. You had that faraway look in your eyes that you always had when you were thinking. Or daydreaming. Your black hair was pulled back in a high ponytail with two long strands in the front to adorn your face, the wind blowing them peacefully. He pushed one of those strands behind your ear so he could take a better look at your face.
Even though it’s not something Michael would say in public, you looked beautiful. But you always did, really. Every time he looked at you, he couldn’t help but admire you. Even when he didn’t see you. When he just saw your name light up his phone in a text or call, when he just heard your voice, it was enough to have his heart start beating just a little faster.
He would do anything for you, anything to keep you happy. He was whipped and proudly so. You were, quite easily, the best thing that ever happened to him.
But if hearing about Justin from his acquaintances or seeing him a couple yards away bothered Michael, he hated when he heard his precious girlfriend mention his name. You didn’t mention him often, because you knew how much he didn’t like it (though that didn’t mean you understood it).
“Don’t forget that Justin’s going away get together is in a few days.” You said casually as you placed a bit of muffin into your mouth, looking up at him expectantly. You spoke in that sing-song voice that always seemed to calm him.
It would have in that moment as well, if it weren’t for your words. He looked down at his small girlfriend, taken aback. “When did I agree to that?” His words sounded harsh and Michael wished, not for the first time, that he could be kinder, at least to you.
But luckily, you knew him well enough not to be offended by his tone.
“Mikey, you know he’s my friend. I haven’t seen him in years so I want to go to say goodbye, and I want you by my side.” Your eyes were so bright and pleading and as he set his colder ones to yours, he knew he couldn’t refuse.
You smiled brightly, kissing his cheek in a thank you. Michael didn’t miss the glances the couple were sent by passing by students, likely in surprise that the Michael was so calm and allowed someone so close. But you were the only person that really mattered to him at that moment.
Michael watched you close your chemistry notebook and slip it into your backpack. “Don’t forget, you have class in 15 minutes, you should head over there now so you’re not late.”
Just like you helped him study for his classes, you reminded him every time his class was about to start. You knew his schedule better than he knew it. There was no doubt in his mind that he wouldn’t go to any class if it weren’t for your constant reminders and begs. Even with those, he still likely would’ve skipped if not for the fact that he didn’t want to disappoint you. There was a lot about him that could disappoint you, he didn’t want to add to the list.
Michael nodded obediently at his girlfriend. Partly to appease her but also partly because he was actually planning to go, even if he was just going to be wasting 55 minutes of his time since he lacked any materials for class - including a backpack.
You smiled lovingly as you slipped your own backpack onto your back, your own chemistry class was about to start.
“Love you.” With one final kiss to his lips, a kiss that Michael very much wished was longer and deeper, you stood up and began walking to your class like the good student you were. You were the embodiment of goodness.
Michael waited until he couldn’t see you anymore before he stood up himself and began walking in the opposite direction. Though he went to such a large university, he never really had an issue with crowds or foot traffic. No, people made way for him without him having to get to that point. Maybe it was his reputation that did it, his ripped attire or maybe it was his sleeves neck full of tattoos that were in full display under his black t-shirt.
As he walked, he noticed the usual whispers that traveled everywhere he did. Many coming from girls that smiled at him flirtatiously as he walked past. Though he didn’t so much as glance at them as he passed by them, uninterested. Even if he did, he would look with angry eyes that made them flinch and couldn’t help but worthlessly compare them to his Y/N, knowing no one could really pair up.
Instead, his mind traveled to the blond boy that was getting to close to his own good. The boy that had once captured the heart of the love of his life and though he knew he should probably let it go, just the reminder of how Justin gazes at her, how he was everything you could want, had Michael clenching and unclenching his fists.
You had tried to stop his violent habits. But in moments like these, the only thing that Michael needed was to punch something and to punch something hard. He needed to get out the anger that was bubbling up in his body more and more by the minute.
So as a brunette boy on a skateboard hit into him roughly before falling to the ground, Michael watched him crawl to pick up his skateboard and apologize in a shaky voice before he set out, walking fast to behind the university gymnasium building.
He wasn't really lying to you when he told her he was going to class, Michael reasoned to himself as he followed the boy behind the building. He was just going to be a little late due to a detour.
“Hey!” He called out in a gruff voice
All it took was the kid to turn around for him to throw a heavy punch, with the hand whose fingers read out ‘Y O U’,  smirking wickedly when he heard a satisfying crunch.
+
“What happened?” That was the first thing out of your mouth when you saw Michael again.
He didn’t flinch when you picked up his hand, though you certainly would’ve expected him to. His knuckles were bloody, bits and pieces were missing skin and you could see hints of gravel.
But instead, he just regarded you stoically, cooly. “I told you I’m fine.”
You squeezed his hand sharply to which he finally let out a small hiss of pain. You shook your head, “Fine, huh?”
He leaned closer to you, smirking. “Now, you’re just trying to turn me on.”
However, you didn’t let yourself get swept away by his sweet voice. Instead, you moved out of his room to the bathroom. He was constantly getting into fights to the point where he had plenty of gauze lying around. When you came back, he just held out his hand again in defeat.
You graciously began to cover his injury up. “You’re unbelievable” You chastised. “I tell you to go to class and what do you do? Beat someone up. You were fine when I left you!”
Michael was in a strangely good mood, maybe it was because he had let out all of his frustration or maybe it was something in the way you were doting and attending to him, but he did something he rarely did. He said a joke. “In my defense, I went to class.”
When you, not only didn’t laugh, but made a move to leave, he actually even laughed and collected you in his arms. His laugh was so lovely that you smiled, even if you didn’t want to.
“Come on, baby. I’m sorry.” His wrapped hand came up and he used to thumb to pull your bottom lip down, “Let me make it up to you.” His eyes got slightly darker as his eyes trailed down to your lips.
You’re eyes trailed down to his tattoos that made him look like a piece of art, tempted. But you refused to give him a reward. It was actions like what he did that day that made him so feared and the object of so many horrifying rumors. He had been more restrained with his violence since you started dating. He fought less and less and it was only to keep you happy. But he didn’t stop completely, and you understood that, though that didn’t mean you liked it.
You didn’t even let your mind wander to the poor kid he did this to. You think your heart would hurt to think of it, it would hurt even more to think the guy you were so in love with, the one right in front of you was the one that inflicted that pain.
“Great then, make it up to me by going to my house and picking up my textbooks, I’ll work here and help you study today.”
That was not the answer Michael was expecting or wanting. He looked confused as he stared into your eyes, looking for a hint of humor to indicate that was a joke. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope, hurry back.”
+
Michael wished he could say he couldn’t believe he was doing this. He hated leaving his house when it was unnecessary. He hated even more to go to your house where it was surrounded by people who didn’t fear going outside and listening to loud music on their yard, unlike his neighbors who had gotten to know Michael’s preference of silence a long time ago.
But it was for you so he could definitely believe he was walking by the annoyingly crowded yards to the modest apartment at the end of the lane.
As he climbed up to your floor, he already had the spare key you gave him in his hand, separated from the rest of the keys in his keychain. It was easy to distinguish as you painted it your favorite color - baby pink. He just looked up when he was about to get to her door when he saw something he definitely did not want to see.
Justin. Fluffy haired, blond Justin standing in front of his girlfriend’s apartment door. He was wearing boat shoes and a salmon polo shirt. At that moment, Michael hated him. He wanted to punch his face in.
Justin was fidgeting, moving his feet left to right in a pacing manner. Small murmurs left his mouth as if he was practicing something.
‘Like…I like…no, that’s not right…I…’
But Michael had heard enough so he made his footsteps very loud and noticeable as he closed any distance between them.
Almost as soon as he reached them, Michael had all but thrown him against the wall behind him. His fist was buried in the collar of Justin’s shirt, twisting. Any and all anger he had released that day came back at double the force.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Michael sneered in his face and he took only slight satisfaction at seeing Justin’s eyes widen in fear and his mouth floundering pathetically trying to figure out what to say.
“I-I just came to give Y/N my organic chemistry notes.” He held up a green notebook as proof, “I already took the c-class so I wanted to h-help.”
Somehow, the thought that he could help Y/N in something Michael couldn’t, academics, made it worse. He was furious, furious that Justin was so perfect while Michael was so damaged, so fucked up.
Michael pulled and pushed him by his shirt, causing Justin to hit the back of his head against the wall, “No, I heard you. ‘I like’” Michael mimicked, before pushing him even harder again, “You like what?” His voice escalated and when Justin didn’t respond, he was all but yelling when repeated, “You like what?”
“Y/N” Justin yelled back, but more out of fear than anything, “I like Y/N.”
He didn’t know whether or not to be impressed that blondie finally grew a pair to tell him the truth, despite knowing what Michael was like. All he knew was that he had also grown confident enough to be willing to tell you about his feelings. Michael wanted to beat the shit out of him, even worse than he beat that skateboarder a few hours ago, worse than he’d ever beat anyone in his life.
But he couldn’t, so he didn’t. He knew you wouldn’t be as easy to forgive him for that like you did in the past. If he was a less selfish man, he would probably give Justin a fair chance. You deserved better than Michael and everyone knew it. Even Michael.
But he was never known for being selfless.
He leaned in closer to hiss out his words, so only he would hear. “You will never be with Y/N. Do you wanna know how I know? Because I ruined her, I ruined her for you and I ruined her for all other men.”
“When I met her, she was a blushing little virgin. Do you want to know what she does now?” Justin looked away at that point but Michael grabbed the back of his neck to force him to look him in the eyes for his next words. He wanted to see the impact they had on him.
“Now, she begs me to fuck her with my cock while she calls me daddy.”
Justin curled his lips and his expression was that of pain that Michael loved to see. “I took her virginity. And it felt so fucking good. She was so tight that I could barely fit inside of her. She was a blushing mess under me, it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.”
“I’m the only one who’s ever touched her. She gave me the thing you’ve always dreamed about. Me. The monster with tattoos, anger issues and a bad past. I took away that innocence you liked her so much for. She fucking creams when I call her my bitch and my whore, when I tell her I’m going to knock her up.”
“I know exactly what she likes. She’s so submissive for me.” He couldn’t stop. Michael couldn’t hurt Justin physically so he wanted to hurt him every other way he could. “I’ve fucked every part of her that you fantasize and jack off to. And when she talks to you, know that I fucked that mouth just moments before.”
He spat his final words. “So I want you to know that she would be nothing but unsatisfied with you, she would always be thinking of me, wanting me, needing me to get her off, to make her happy. She’s mine.”
When Michael finally let him go, Justin’s eyes were glistening but he didn’t move from against the wall. Even with the freedom to leave, to run out of there like Michael expected him to, it looked like he was in shock. He was barely blinking and he couldn’t seem to get his mouth to fully close.
Even after Michael went into your house and picked up all your textbook and notebooks, Justin was still out there, staring out into space.
Michael didn’t stay and watch as he silently abandoned Justin to the cruel words echoing in his mind.
+
Michael had been acting weird for two days. Every time he saw you he would ask if you’d heard anything interesting. Considering he never really asked about anything deeper than how your day was, preferring to live in the moment, it was concerning. It’d gotten to a point where you were worried he did something illegal, or worse, if that were possible.
But each day, it was the same answer. No, you hadn’t heard anything new and he seemed to drop it just like that.
“Alright, what did you do?” You asked one day as you laid with your head on his lap on the couch. Ashton was a few seats away from you two, staring at the tv. You glanced up at your boyfriend quickly before knowing he wasn’t going to answer so you looked at Ashton. “What did he do?”
“I thought you already knew he beat up that freshmen.” Ashton swatted at your foot.
You kicked him in retaliation, “That’s it? That’s all he’s done?” You weren’t convinced.
Michael ran his long fingers through your hair, soothingly. “What other kind of trouble did you want me to do?”
An embarrassed blush dusted over your cheeks, “N-Nothing, I just thought…”
At the sight of your red cheeks, Michael tugged you up to sit on his lap, “Thought what, baby girl?”
Ashton stood almost immediately, “You guys are disgusting, I’m going to the Union.”
Michael didn’t look back as the front door opened and closed. Instead, he stood with you still in his lap, making you squeal and wrap your laps around the middle of his torso. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. With his hands holding you up by your ass, he guided the both of you to his bedroom, only putting you down once you were directly in front of his bedroom.
Now you stood directly in front of him, your eyes just reaching the level of his upper torso so you had to look up to see his face. His figure was eclipsing your entire body. Something about seeing you below him, so much smaller than his figure and so easy to manhandle, definitely did something to him.  He wanted to destroy you. It didn’t help that your blushing face made you look like a school girl about to get fucked for the first time.
“God, you’re so innocent” His rough groaned out, making you wet almost immediately. “Sit down for me, little one.”
But you shook your head, your arm raising just slightly, enough for your hand to rub over the bulge in his basketball shorts, feeling the outline of his length. You looked back up to him seductively, “Let me suck you off.” You bit your lip in a plea.
To your surprise, he shook his head, looking down at you, and pushed you to a seated position. He wasn’t one to say no to a blowjob so this really took you off guard. You were almost laying down, holding yourself up just by your elbows when he leaned closer to you. Two fingers, each one with the letters ‘F’ and ‘U’ tattooed respectively on them with further ink details trailing to his arm, prodded your lips. You opened your mouth to take them in.
He moved them in and out and your head bobbed accordingly with his pace. His light eyes watched your every move hotly and you couldn’t help but moan against his fingers.
Without double thinking it, you took a hold of his wrist with both of your small hands, stopping his movements. Your big eyes were kept on his before taking his entire digits in your mouth, effectively deep-throating his fingers.
“Fuck.” He whispered before standing up to his full height again. You smiled at the fact that you pleased him.
He pushed you down to fully be laying down as he got down on his knees in front of you. You were wearing shorts this time so he undid the buttons and pulled them off of you, along with your black underwear. He threw them behind him distractedly.
You couldn’t really prepare yourself when he put in the still glistening fingers that were in your mouth into your entrance. You pushed yourself up as you arched your back in pleasure.
When his mouth found its way onto you to lick your sensitive nub while his fingers thrusted in and out of you, your face scrunched up in pleasure and your hands searched anything to try to hold onto. One of your hands clutched the blanket under you while the other found its way into his dark hair, pulling with the intensity of the pleasure.
But as you pulled and as the pain it caused him increased, so did his actions. He pulled away just enough to watch your face as he thrust his fingers in and out of you faster. His fingers curled just slightly inside you which had you gasping and then moaning louder in pleasure. His free hand came up to slap your pussy sharply. You gasped and jumped to close your legs in surprise but he held you in place by your inner thighs.
He spit down onto your cunt before starting to eat you out again. His tongue flatly licking your every crevice ravenously before sucking on your clit, making your eyes roll back in pleasure. Your head was thrown back onto the mattress as you closed your eyes.
“Please, please.” You felt your release approaching and as you sat up slightly, your back arching in pleasure, to look at him. You pushed his face deeper to you, which he graciously accepted. His nose sometimes rubbed against your clit which sent a shock of pleasure through your body.
All it took was for his fingers to separate inside of you for you to come directly onto his fingers and face. You didn’t even get to feel embarrassed before he stood, chin shiny with your wetness and cum, and placed those very fingers into your mouth and you had to taste yourself on them. It was so dirty but you couldn’t help but blush harder.
But he wasn’t done with you. At the sight of your blushing and trembling figure, he took off his shirt and shorts easily, letting them pool at his feet before he took a hold of your hips. “Bend over for me.”
He grabbed you by both your hips and forced you on all fours, pulling you back so you were right in front of him. He was strangely quiet when he spread your legs just enough and placed one of his legs onto the bed, the other staying on the floor. Like he was savoring the moment.
You felt him line up to your entrance from behind you and you cried out in pleasure when he finally entered you, his position somehow putting himself at just the right angle. You whimpered out, “So big.”
He moaned at your tightness and held onto your hips roughly as he began thrusting at a bruising pace. One of his hands gathered both of your wrists and pinned them behind you, causing your face to fall down to the mattress. Your moans and screams were muffled by the blanket below you.
The pleasure was almost overpowering, making you writhe forward, almost away from him at, your hands reaching out to the mattress in front of you. But he kept bringing you you back by pulling on your hips and wrists. You pushed your hips back in rhythm with his thrusts, or as much as you could in the steel grip he had you in.
Michael moaned loudly, “Good girl.” He praised as he let your arms go and slapped your ass hard, making you moan louder. “Fuck yourself on my cock.”
And suddenly he stopped his thrusts. You picked up your head to look behind to him, whining at the loss of friction and desperately thrusting back on him, moving yourself up and down on his hard length. Your hair was sticking to your face uncomfortably but you didn’t care. His hand found its way to your neck, choking you from behind deliciously. Every sensation suddenly felt heightened. The tattoos circling his hands and fingers looked beautiful adorning your neck.
He leaned himself down, pressing his front directly to your back, covering much of your body with just his upper half. He whispered into your ear, “Look at you getting yourself off like a bitch in heat.”
“Please.” You whined in response, needing for his rough thrusts to start back up again.
“Beg for it.” He stayed completely still.
“Please fuck me, fuck me.” You moaned loudly, “I need you to fuck me, fuck this pussy daddy.” Your words were filthy enough to make you blush but you were almost delirious with desire at that point that you didn’t care.
Michael chuckled at you tauntingly, “Look at you blushing like a shy little girl even when you’re begging for me to ruin you."
He had just begun thrusting again, thrusting at an almost violent pace when a phone rang.
“No!” You cried out in desperation at the interruption. You could barely breathe with how wanton you were.
You felt Michael pause for a moment before your phone fell in front of you. You picked your head up just to read the name on the screen: ‘Justin’. You went to toss it aside but Michael’s voice stopped you.
“Answer it.”
“W-What?” You couldn’t believe what he was suggesting.
But he had an enticing smile as he persuaded you, “Come on, you don’t have to say anything, just let him listen. Doesn’t that make you wet to think of someone listening to how good I make you feel?”
You couldn’t believe you were even considering it. “If he asks about it, you didn’t even realize you answered.”
You wanted to say no. It would be gross and disrespectful, but you couldn’t deny the large part of you that was turned on with what Michael was saying. So your fingers swiped the answer button before you could change your mind.
As soon as you answered, it was like something snapped in Michael because his hips pounded into yours with a new vigor. The sound of skin slapping against skin loud and obvious. You were planning on just burying your face in the mattress as you had been doing to mask your moans but Michael grabbed a hold of your hair in a makeshift pony tail and pulled, forcing your upper body in the air.
Instead, your loud stuttered moans filled the air as Michael’s showed you no mercy. It was even hotter knowing someone was listening. With your face pulled back, you tried to keep your eyes open and level with Michael’s, which were staring directly at you, examining your face.
Michael’s gravel voice sounded through the room, “Keep looking at me like the submissive slut you are. Let it out.” His tone had become almost soothing, “Look what I made you become.”
“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You screamed out, unashamed but barely managed to get the words out out.
His hips shifted, allowing him to get even deeper than before, fulfilling your wish. He was nearly growling when he spoke, “That’s right, fucking take it, bitch.”
Then he grunted, “Who’s cunt is this?” He spanked your ass once again to put emphasis on his question.
You whined and moaned at the same time, “Y-yours, it’s yours, your pussy daddy” He pulled harder at your hair which caused a particularly loud moan to come out of you, “Only yours, Mikey.”
Michael pulled your hair enough to have your face directly below his and kissed you hotly. He sucked and pulled at you bottom lip. His tongue finding its way into your mouth, kissing you gently, a contrast to how roughly he was currently fucking you. When he pulled back, you opened your mouth before he even said anything. He spat into your mouth, some of his spit landed on your chin.
“You’re such a fucking slut, look at you covered in my spit.” You gave a naughty laugh, biting your lip, to which he responded by slapping your cheek, the sting making you let out an elongated moan and clench around him.
“Yeah, you like that?” He moaned out as you clenched around him. “That’s good, princess.”
“Yes, yes, yes.” You closed your eyes in pleasure.
The sound of a call disconnecting sounded and a sickening realization dawned at you. You assumed Justin had hung up the moment he heard the sound of slapping skin or your moans. But he had just heard all of that.
Michael didn’t give you much time to dwell on it though because he hit a particular spot that had you seeing stars. “Cum for me, think you can do that, little one?”
As he said that, his hand reached down to your pussy, masterfully stimulating your clit, which, along with his thrusts, made you gasp out. You came around him almost instantly as he continued thrusting. But he didn’t stop hitting that spot, but instead rode out your orgasm by thrusting even deeper. He didn’t even stop when his thrusts slowed down and become sloppier. So by the time he was coming in you, you were practically sobbing at the overstimulation as you came for the third time that night.
“Beautiful.” He let out a satisfied moan as he pulled out, letting you drop fully down to the mattress, as you didn’t have enough strength to hold yourself up.
Michael patiently moved you to a more comfortable position, giving you the best spot on the bed as he dressed again.
You looked over at him sleepily, body glistening. “I honestly don’t know what’s gotten into you lately.”  
He gave you a secretive smirk before nodding silently before leaning down to give you a languid, gentle kiss as he was holding your face in both hands. It was a loving kiss and it was moments like those that reminded you why you loved him so much.
+
Justin’s going away party was tomorrow and Michael couldn’t believe his luck. The rich kid would leave soon enough and everything would be back to normal. He wouldn’t be constantly on edge and he wouldn’t have to leave the house every time Ashton had Chris and Charlie over.
And, as it turned out, Justin was too big of a pussy to tell you what he did after all. He was on top of the world. He hadn’t even gotten into a fight in days because of it. To top it all off, his girlfriend texted him that afternoon.
my girl
Come over, now.
He was on his way to your apartment, forgoing any classes he had at the middle of the day. Not that he would know if he even had any. Even if he did, he would drop everything and anything for you.
He didn’t expect, however, to hear your angry voice as soon as he walked through the door.
“How could you?” You yelled. He was usually the only one that yelled, the only one that got angry. That was when Michael knew he did something wrong, bad enough to get his sweet, soft-spoken, girlfriend to yell with an angry expression on her kind face.
And he had a feeling he knew exactly what he did.
You knew it too because you continued, keeping a big distance between the two in your spacious and clean living room. “How could you say those things to Justin? Do you have any idea how personal those things are? How embarrassing it is to know you said something so private and intimate about me to him?” You were yelling and by the end of it, Michael could swear he saw some tears.
He stepped forward just to have you put your hand up, palm facing him to stop his movement. “And to top it off, what we did to him over the phone?” You were definitely crying now, “Michael, that was just cruel. I never would have agreed to it if I knew what you had done.”
Your hand went up to cover your mouth, as if to stop the cries from pouring out.
Michael, on the other hand, felt like he had just gotten kicked in the gut. The sight of your tears and knowing he had single handedly caused them hurt him more than he could imagine. He wanted to blame Justin, blame his stupid big mouth, but he couldn’t.
“Just, w-why would y-you do some…thing like that?” You were looking at him like he never wanted you to look at him. You looked at him like he was a bad person, like you were finally seeing him the way everyone else always had.
He wanted to wrap his arms around you and apologize, not letting you go until you forgave him. To stop you from looking at him like that. But he let you get out your thoughts. You deserved at least that much.
“When Justin told me, I wanted to disappear. You made me f-feel so small. Like I was just some sex trophy you can show off like a poss-ss-ession.” You shook your head, your tears streaming freely down your cheeks, “Why would you take something so intimate and make it so awful?”
Michael couldn’t even respond. Why would he do that? Was he that big of an insecure asshole that he couldn’t think of how his actions would affect the one person that mattered?
“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft and he took a few tentative steps closer. “He was going to tell you he liked you and I thought you’d choose-”
“-I told you he’s just a friend!” You exploded. Your eyes were still filled with tears but there was a definite anger in your expression. “Why can’t you just trust me and feel confident that I’d choose you even if he did confess.”
He wasn’t good with non-violent confrontations. With you, he wasn’t good with confrontation, period. You never fought much, and never to this extent, so his instincts were off.
“Why would I?” He yelled back but with a lower level of anger and a higher level of desperation than usual. “Why would I think in a million years you’d pick me? When he’s fucking perfect for you: you have a history, he has the brains, the looks, the money. He has the life I could never give you!”
He was talking fast and breathing faster because he felt like he was about to lose the love of his life and he couldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t break up with him. He loved you too much and he wasn’t planning on letting you go, ever.
You opened your mouth but he continued talking, his hands swiped at each of his arms, “Look at me, am I someone you want to take home to your mom? You want to show her how you’re dating a big, inked up, fuck up who has been to juvie more times than he can count and barely made it into college?” He shook his head, “But I bet your mom loves Justin, doesn’t she?”
You didn’t answer so Michael repeated himself, he needed you to understand him. “Doesn’t she?”
“She likes him but-”
Michael cut you off, “Exactly. You deserve someone that actually has the emotional range to be there for you, someone you have more things in common with.” He looked away before sighing, “Look I fucked up, I’m sorry, but…please, don’t leave me.”
You couldn’t believe it when you heard his voice crack at the end.
It was one of those rare moments he let his guard down, where he was vulnerable to you.
Maybe that was what made you change your tone because the next time you spoke, your voice was much softer and your expression held a hint of pity.
“Mikey…” This time, it was you who moved closer to him and while it wasn’t a lot, it meant the world to Michael who felt like the cracks in his world were slowly starting to pull themselves back together. “Don’t you think I feel the same way sometimes?”
The confusion Michael felt was obvious on his face.
“I see the way all the girls on campus look at you, more experienced girls that can probably please you a lot better than I can. Girls you’re probably more used to since you’re a lot more experienced than I am.”
Michael’s jaw dropped “What?”
How could you possibly think he would want any other girl or that any other girl could possibly measure up to you in bed? He wanted to tell you that he loved how inexperienced you were in the beginning, that it was a turn on. How he loved to be the one to teach you everything you knew while knowing he was the only one who’s ever touched you. Sure you were different, but that’s why he liked you so much.
But you continued, reaching up to cup his cheek. He couldn’t help but lean his face into your touch. “But I know you love me so I don’t even flinch when you go out to parties by yourself or a girl flirts with you in front of me, because I trust you. You have to do the same for me instead of psychologically torturing people.”
He couldn’t think of a time a girl flirted with him in front of his girlfriend, or it was more likely he was just not paying attention. When he was with you, he often stopped thinking of much else.
Only one thing was on his mind as he lifted your hand and kissed your palm. “Do you forgive me?”
He wasn’t one to apologize, ever. But he was willing to go on his hands and knees for the woman in front of him. He was willing to beg for you. Fuck everyone else.
His heart constricted just a tiny bit when you didn’t answer right away. But then, you nodded gently.
For the millionth time since they started dating, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was.
When he wrapped his arms around you, holding your small frame tightly against his own, he definitely felt a difference. You didn’t melt into him like you usually did, but you didn’t push him away.
“I know I’m mean and aggressive and that I should probably treat you better, take you out more. But I love you, you’re all I have.” It was true. He didn’t have much but he had Y/N, the sweet girl that found a way to look past his rough exterior. That was all he needed.
+
When Justin’s party finally arrived, Michael wished he could say your words made him change his mind about the guy. But, as he thought of the everything the tall boy personified: uncertainty his visit caused his relationship, the very real threat of taking his girlfriend away, he didn’t think anything could change his mind about the blond boy.
So he couldn’t help the twisted satisfaction he got when he saw Justin’s face light up when you entered Chris’ dorm room, where the party was held, wearing a pretty pink dress, only to watch it fall when Michael walked in right behind you. He watched it grow even darker at your interlocked hands (because though you forgave him, you were still not happy enough to let him wrap his arms around your shoulders or waist like he would’ve wanted).
The two of you didn’t speak but Michael kept by your side anyway, silently drinking the beer that was handed to him when they came in. One had been offered to you but he stepped closer threateningly to the guy holding it out. The drink was promptly removed. He saw you give the guy a heart-warming smile as a token of your apology for his actions.
You were never interested in drinking or drugs and he was not going to allow your exposure to them because of him be your downfall, he couldn’t deal with knowing he was the bad influence he never wanted to be for you. You were the best thing that had ever happened to him, the best thing in his life, and he didn’t want to ruin that like he ruined everything else in his life.
Many guys tried to approach him, speaking to him as if they were friends and that was all they needed to start up a friendship. He barely talked, his words coming out short and snippy. They were taking time out of his night to spend with his girl. Usually, they took the hint and left, but others, like Charlie, stayed for longer. When Michael’s cold glaring eyes finally moved to meet his, Charlie’s face got visibly whiter before he quickly excused himself. Michael had told you that he should be nicer, but that only really applied to her.
When you left his side to say goodbye formally to Justin at the end of the party, he smiled, a mix of cruelly and victoriously.
Justin had lost. Michael had won.
So when he finally left through the door and out of their lives, he wrapped his arms around your body from behind you. Feeling much relieved to be able to still do so, to still have you. Even more so when you leaned against him.
Leaning down, he pushed strands of your loose hair away from your ear with his nose before whispering, “Let’s go home.”
+
end of story 1
again, i’m planning on making a second part to this series but it will focus on a completely different obstacle! it’ll be a brand new plot just with the same characters and dynamics as this one. like another big moment in their relationship.
@imagines-to-die-for
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lacythefox · 3 years ago
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Marvel Fic #1
  Prompt: Dr. Banner + Work Parties + Annoying Tony = Really Bad Idea
        This morning, when Tony checked his mail, he got an interesting invite. It was for a business party. Business ‘parties’, fun to get drunk at, but boring at the most. But, Stark Industries hasn’t been involved with anything of the sort for a long time, so Tony decided to attend (he also just needed to ensure that his companies’ reputation was safe). Oh boy, this is gonna be boring… Tony told himself. He skimmed through the invite, finding the letter very amusing:
       Dear Mr. Stark
You and Dr. Bruce Banner have been requested to appear in an event that Hammer Industries is hosting. Justin Hammer is looking forward to you and your partner’s visit.
Hammer requested him to be at a party he was hosting? Really? And he wanted Bruce to come as well? God, that’s pretty suspicious. Then again, Tony Stark lives for excitement. 
“HEY! GREEN BEAN!” Tony shouted as he burst into Dr. Banner’s lab, where Bruce was running some sort of experiment. Or, he was, until Tony disrupted that. Bruce jumped, causing him to drop whatever he was holding, shattering on the ground. 
“Dammit, Tony! What do you want now?” Bruce spat. With that, Tony was a bit concerned. Bruce usually isn’t like this. Maybe he should leave him alone? No, I’d like to see how this turns out.
“How would you like to go to a party with me?” Tony asked. 
“A… party? Me?” Bruce paused. “That’s… Not really a good idea, Tony.” Bruce’s brows slightly furrowed over his eyes. 
“Oh, I know,” said Tony with a big grin. “And you’re coming with me.”
Bruce let out a big sigh. “There’s no getting out of this, is there?”
“Nope. You kind of have to. It’s a work thing”
“I hate you, Tony.” 
“Thanks, Brucie-Bear.”
Tony walked to the stairs of the building where the party was taking place. There, Tony found Bruce standing there with an annoyed, tired expression painted on his face. 
“Wow,” Tony stated. “Goodness, Dr. Banner. You look stunning tonight!” He said with a sarcastic smile. Bruce was wearing a nice, dark grey suit with a purple tie (Ah, yes, Bruce and the color purple.), with matching dark grey pants. Tony, on the other hand, was just wearing his usual plain, shiny black suit.
“You look good yourself,” Bruce replied. “Can we just… get this over with?”
God, Bruce really didn’t want to be here. 
“Okay, let's go on in then!” Tony scoffed. He snatched the doctor’s soft hand and dragged him into the over-the-top building. The cold night was replaced with a warm, fancy interior as soon as they went through the doors. The sounds of traffic became the swarming sound of people chattering about. 
A brown-haired man came to greet the two scientists. 
“Ah, Mr. Stark!” The man said, shaking Tony’s hand. “A pleasure seeing you.” Tony knew that the guy who just shook his hand was putting on a ‘nice façade’, because he was in public. After all, Justin Hammer literally HATES Tony, Mostly because of how much more successful Tony’s company is.
Justin’s attention shifted to Bruce, who was standing there, silently. 
“Oh! You must be Dr. Banner!” Justin smiled. “I’ve read your paper on gamma radiation. I love your work!” he said. All Bruce responded with was a timid “Thanks.” 
Hammer continued to talk Bruce’s ear off. 
‘Tony, help me.’ Bruce whispered to Tony.
‘Sorry, bud, I can’t really do anything!’ Tony chuckled back. ‘Could I get you a drink or something?’
‘I’d usually say no to that, saying that I don’t drink..’ Bruce uttered. ‘..but anything to spare you from this mess.’
‘Okay, I’ll be back.’ Tony announced, walking off. Looking back to see Bruce waving ‘farewell for now’. 
Tony wandered up to the bar and sat down for a second. 
Huh. I just want to leave this place. Gotta survive a bit longer, though. Tony thought. Just focus on getting that drink for now.
“Excuse me, can I buy something?” Tony asked the only available bartender around.
“Whatda want?” the bartender responded in a gruff, dull voice.
“I’ll take a.. Uh..” he trailed off. Crap, I forgot to ask Bruce what he wanted! “Uh.. sorry, I forgot to ask my friend.” Tony admitted awkwardly. The bartender just responded with a shrug. Rude. Tony thought.
As Tony was walking back to Bruce, he noticed that a few people were quickly shuffling in the opposite direction from his destination. He thought nothing of it at first (Minus thinking it was a bit weird), until he realized what was going on. 
There was Bruce, being swarmed with a handful of people, looking as he was about to cry. 
He was standing there, shaking and sweating. Panic hit Tony like a truck, as soon as he saw that Bruce’s eyes and arms were turning green. Bruce was having an anxiety attack. A really bad one, at that.
There are two different types of anxiety attacks that Dr. Banner has. Wet and dry.
The wet attacks are pathetic breakdowns, complete with oceans of tears. The dry ones, on the other hand? Those ones were practically unmanageable. Those were the ones that started off fine, having Bruce increasingly getting dizzier and sweatier, not being able to properly breathe. These were the ones where he would hallucinate, seeing anyone that crosses his path as a threat out to harm him. He would see his time in captivity, being tortured by General ‘Thunderbolt’ Ross. Unfortunately, these kinds of hallucinations are the ones that the Big Guy REALLY doesn’t like. And worst of all, the type of anxiety attack Bruce was having now was dry.
Tony rushed over to Bruce, attempting to get his friend out of there.
“Excuse me, Hammer,” Tony interrupted whatever conversation Justin and his colleagues were forcing Bruce to listen to. “But me and Dr. Banner will be leaving now.” He said. 
Bruce looked up at Tony wheezing, trying to make words out. Tony grabbed Bruce and turned him (as well as himself) away from the group. 
“Save your breath, Brucie.” he ordered.  Bruce just nodded quickly in response. 
“Hey, where are you going?” Justin demanded. “We were talking over here!” That sassy little remark by Justin caused Bruce to grit his teeth in anger. Honesty, Tony couldn’t blame him. Justin Hammer was a jerk. 
Bruce suddenly swished around grabbing Justin’s shirt collar. 
“Let me give you some friendly advice,” Bruce sneered through gritted teeth. “You’re starting to make me angry. I suggest you shut up before something bad happens,” he growled, eyes bright green. “Because you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” 
Justin, face filled to the brim with fear, struggled to get free. Tony, as much as he wanted to see that smug look on Justin’s face gone for good, had to stop Bruce from completely choking this man to death. 
“Bruce, bud.” Tony practically had to tackle Bruce to get him off of Hammer. “Let’s go now.”
Bruce’s eyes snapped to Tony. Still bright green. 
“Let’s,” Bruce declared. 
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pinkhairedlily · 3 years ago
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[Open Your Mouth] Chapter 4 - R
See previous chapters here: AO3 | Tumblr
Summary: Or maybe it was just the first time she was treated like she had an agency. The gestures for permission, the unspoken questions of consent, the way he wouldn’t touch her first or grab her or mar her skin even when they were having sex. Most men would have their true natures revealed once shown the great pussy. But there he was, always cradling her like she was porcelain china. Not that she minded. It was a breath of fresh air to be held like that, in gentle caresses and soft whispers that beg to betray his true feelings at any given second. It was madness not to be consumed by it, but it was tragedy that she only knew of this reality just now.
-xxxxxxx-
April 20, 2021, 11:16 PM
“Still in questioning for two weeks,” Sasuke grits through his phone. “And they didn’t allow him to post bail?”
“Akugawa’s attorneys tried to appeal this week but it’s a no go. Doesn’t help that he’s brought to a different district so it’s completely out of our jurisdiction,” Neji replies. “Have you heard from Jugo?”
“Just a text message saying they lied to him and told him the directive was from Asuma.” Sasuke lets his fingers run through his hair, too frustrated to think straight this evening. “All they have against Akugawa are purely circumstantial. This is ridiculous.”
“Yeah, but the media ruckus is hungry for the gay serial killer angle. Well, I gotta go Uchiha.”
“Have fun. It’s your wedding anniversary tonight, isn’t it?”
“Shut up. Aren’t you with a woman yourself?” The call ends.
Rid of distractions, he is now at liberty to gaze freely at the rosette reading a book beside him. She gives him a smile and ditches the book to trace lazy circles on his chest. The lunch break meetings have become too short for the both of them thus the need for dinners and coffee. He didn’t plan on making a move, not when there is still an active case, but she’s enthralling in a sense. It’s her presence that pulls him into her orbit – or maybe it’s the pink hair and the emerald eyes that make it difficult to look away.
When he almost hailed her a cab for their fifth dinner, she grabbed his arm and slowly pulled it down to her side, intertwining her fingers with his. It was the first time he held her hand.
With a flushed face under the dim city lights, she asked him, “I would like it if you take me home with you.”
And even after arriving in his flat, he hesitated to kiss her. Only when she brought his fingers to her lips did he move, suddenly gripped with a drive to gently coax her into pleasure. She undressed for him in the dark, already wet and pulsating for his touch, his kisses, and he let the jasmine perfume perforate his senses. He was careful not to leave marks of his trail – after all, it might just be the last as it could be the first – and regrets were felt stronger when there were remainders.
The first time was followed by a second, and she posed a question. “Why are you so gentle with me?”
He looked at her face and tucked a stray strand behind her ear, the color of his dreams. “I’m afraid you’ll break.”
She took his hand and slapped it on her perky breasts. “Try and break me then.”
Where he wavered, she asserted – her nails leaving scratches on his back, bruising his lips, marking his neck, and pulling his hair – but she did it so beautifully that he basked in pain as she yelled his name in ecstatic throes.
He pulls away from reminiscing when the lazy circles start to draw lower. He softly takes her dainty wrist and places an open-mouthed kiss where her pulse is.
“I take it your team is still prohibited from pursuing other leads?” Sakura gasps.
Sasuke shakes his head. “Both chiefs had to save face, particularly when the district attorney got the call first, then the media, and we were the last to know. But it’s more of a pro-forma. My guts don’t tell me they’re still out there.”
“You don’t believe it’s him?”
“He perfectly fits Yamato’s profile. Had several sexual relations with married CEOs, naively accepted promises of secured futures, let down just as quickly as he has been picked up.”
Sakura climbs on top of him and starts to grind on his hardened member. “Too bad. Akugawa is a nice colleague. I was the one who encouraged him to enroll in those meditation classes.”
One arm wraps around her waist to keep her steady while the other tugs away the sheet that comes in between their moist flesh. He brings her breasts closer to his tongue, his words lapping against her skin. “Oh you must be good in yoga too.”
“I’m flexible like that, Detective.” She slips his cock insider her ready core, and the fitting sensation makes the both of them shiver.
“What other things are you good at, Dr, Haruno?”
She locks eyes with him and words are lost as they start to find rhythm in their thrusts.
-xxxxxxx-
April 25, 2021, 6:27 AM
“I take it they’re gonna name you as the director for the overseas expansion.” He asks as soon as they step out of her penthouse.
He didn’t expect to step foot in her domain; he knew it was how the elites operate, but maybe she waited for the sixth date to test him. He couldn’t deny how he was intimidated by her biometrics door, the large cctv panels on her foyer, and her voice-automated house system, but it fascinated him to see the bleak contrast of her plant-filled space against the extravagant automations and sharp marble floor.
“I’m not quite sure.” She angles her eyes on the retina scanner, and the security system beeps to life. The whole floor will be inaccessible even to the administration until she comes home. “Either way, it’s gonna be a success for the Senju-Haruno corporation and its shareholders.”
“Shouldn’t they give you bodyguards then?”
Her fingers ease in into his waiting hand. “I have a detective for a lover. I’ll be fine.”
He leaves soft kisses on her knuckles. “Can’t your lover be worried?”
“I don’t think they’ll come after me. I’m a woman, remember?”
6:41 AM
“Sorry to delay your trip to the office. I’ll just check the ravine again.” They hazard park on the side of the forest. “Stay put. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Sakura nods with a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll stretch my legs out for a bit, but I really wouldn’t want to wander. I don’t know the area quite well.”
He hops off the car, unaware that a nondescript black sedan stopped a few meters away from their spot. Sasuke traverses the wide trunks and mossy forest floor until he finds the exact dumping spot – a clump of thorny bristles and rue hedges. His eyes survey the surroundings and notices a disturbed, rather steep area above the ravine, a tricky slope which cannot be possible for someone like Akugawa. With his built, he would have skidded down when he dumped the body. It had to be someone petite.
Light footfalls behind him. Sasuke glances at the sound, his hand ready to pull out his gun.
“Sorry I followed you. I’m kinda jumpy.” Sakura waves at him from above the slope, her silhouette prominent against the morning backlight.
Then his eyes register another bigger, taller, heavier silhouette behind her.
“Sakura!”
Gunshots miss Sasuke by a breadth, but he doesn’t miss how the hooded figure clamps a hand over Sakura’s mouth and drag her away into the forest. He scrambles up and follows their trail, cursing his ineptness.
His breaths are louder than the wakening birds and traffic on the roadside, and his feet feel more like lead for every tree that leads him deeper into the forest. Then he hears two consecutive shots, and he feels all of his sensory motors go into overload.
Sasuke’s feet direct him to the sound. When the vines give way to a clearing, the first thing he sees is her disheveled rose hair, pulled apart from her high bun, tousled like an unkempt mane on her back.
And a dead man on the forest floor, a gunshot to the head, and another on his side.
She was trembling, eyes wide, clenched teeth, and closed fists. Giving her time to adjust to the events, he goes first to the perpetrator and lowers the hoodie. It’s one of the Mingwa private cronies, probably following him to make sure he isn’t doing independent investigations. But since they touched a Haruno-Senju heir, the corporate publicity will angle this as harassment and attempted assault while the private faction will absolve their hands of any involvement. He calls Kakashi and Asuma for help.
After which, he glances at her, and she finally blinks out of daze. She slumps against him as soon as he’s near, and the reverberations of her body immediately hit him.
“I’m sorry,” he says even though he has a lot of questions.
“He slipped and I went for the gun,” she whispers shakily against his shirt.
Yet he still wonders why there were two shots when one to the head could have sufficed, especially with unfamiliar hands. Or how she’s able to take down a man that size with her dainty wrists.
“I’ll call in sick today. Bring me home?”
He tightens his hug before he lets her go then he realizes he’s not familiar with the terrain.
She tugs on his coat and starts to walk. “If we cut across here, we’ll see the road in five minutes.”
-xxxxxxx-
May 5, 2021, 10:22 AM
“Did Dr. Haruno come back okay?” Kakashi sits down across Sasuke’s desk and fidgets with his unused pens. Even though the investigation was halted, his room remains littered with manila papers, bulletins, and notes on the white board. The necessity to preserve becomes apparent when they receive news of Akugawa posting bail this morning.
Sasuke nods in response. “She still went through with her trip to Belgium last April 28. I don’t know when she’ll be back, but I’m not privy to her internal emotions so it’s not my place to say she’s okay.”
“About time they gave her bodyguards.” The chief detective taps an unlit cigarette stick on his desk. “It’s great seeing you like this.”
“This what?”
“Happy?”
Sasuke clucks his tongue. “It’s not official. She just might be in it for the thrills.”
Kakashi smirks and lights up his stick. “Sex must be great then.”
“Get out, Hatake.”
A rap on the door catches both of their attention. Yamato comes in followed by Asuma, Tenten, Jugo, and Neji.
“There’s a fourth body in the same ravine. Body is now with the ME. Estimated time of death is enough for Akugawa to file for several cases. It’s gonna be a media bloodbath,” Asuma says.
As the lot file out of the office, Kakashi pulls Sasuke to fall behind a bit. “Trust no one, Uchiha.”
11:45 AM
There’s something off-putting about the smell.
This body does not follow the two-week gap; the ME estimated the date of his death on April 27. This slight change in MO presents the possibility of a copycat, but other than that, all injuries are the same – a stab in the carotid, teeth pulled out, arms and feet cut, genital missing – which means another thing, the killer slipped somehow and they’re on a rush. For what, they don’t know.
“Ando Suzuki, CEO of Suzuki Airlines for Japan,” Asuma states his name for confirmation. “Let’s do our usual. It’s time we ramp up our progress, Uchiha.”
Sasuke ignores the pointed insinuation and steps closer to the corpse. It didn’t rain last week despite the forecasts so the state of the body is more or less preserved. He brings his nose closer to the neck, right where the murder tool punctured the artery.
“Sasuke, what are you doing?” Tenten asks. “Forensics have close up shots for that.”
“It’s the smell.”
“Like decomposers and rotting flesh?” Jugo scoffs.
“Is it possible that they might have tried to remove him?” Sasuke asks the ME who quickly goes to him and helps him turn the corpse on its side.
They see fresh scar on the pricked wounds, like someone tried to drag them out of the ravine. As if they knew the position would give them away this time. The smell hits him strongly when the ME returns the corpse to a prone position, and Sasuke almost vomits when he recognizes it.
It can’t be. In controlled breaths, he steps away from the examining table and slumps against the wall. Kakashi notices but pretends not to. It’s Tenten who slithers beside him inconspicuously and taps on his arm. She raises a brow which he responds to with a cluck of his tongue.
“I’ve always wondered,” she starts. “Why can’t it be a woman?”
“If you can recreate a position of a woman stabbing the artery without defense wounds, let me know,” Yamato says with a cold smile. It’s meant to shut Tenten up; he doesn’t like his profiles being challenged. “And the smell you’re talking about Sasuke? It’s jasmine. The area probably has blooms.”
2:30 PM
“Something’s weird with Uchiha,” Neji pulls out his badge, ready to present it to the landfill. They’re revisiting dumping sites again for a second go-through. The killer is starting to leave breadcrumbs all over the place. “Did you see how pale his face went earlier?”
“Jasmine and rotting flesh don’t make good perfume,” Tenten figures. The guard sees their badges and gestures for them to come inside.
There’s a peculiar batch of scavengers in the area, people who aren’t part of junkshops or associations, just individual peddlers. A bald man in his 70s glances their way and starts to move towards their directions with only one foot and crutches for the other.
“Police?” He has a putrid gummy smile. “That lad didn’t come here again.”
Neji tugs Tenten away, but his wife stays rooted to the spot. “A lad?”
The old man opens his palm.
“He just wants money, dear,” Neji grumbles. “Let’s go now and talk to the real rational people.”
Tenten pulls out her wallet and sticks a wad of one dollar bills on the man’s hand. “A lad?” She repeats.
“Thought it was our fellow. We have young ones with us, you know, like your age but definitely shorter in height. He comes in dressed in a black raincoat and plastic boots, dragging bulky garbage bags like they’re not heavy at all.” His smile gets bigger by the count of the bills.
“Did you get a good look at this man?” Tenten asks, still unwilling to let go.
“Tenten,” Neji warns.
“This might be our lead. A concrete lead for once.”
“Wind knocked his garbage of a hood one time. Shiny bald head says hi.”
Neji is at the end of his wits. “Dear, you’re not even sure if he’s talking about our guy.”
Tenten sticks a 10-dollar bill on the old man’s almost torn shirt pocket. He proceeds with a guttural laugh, the phlegm oozing through each gasping breath. “He always dumps those bags on a full moon.”
4:30 PM
Sasuke sneaked in earlier to the administration office just before the receptionist’s desk came into view. With slight intimidation into play, he managed to get duplicate recordings of the cctv of the whole floor.
He taps Kakashi for help and another IT staff.
“Looks normal to me,” the silver-haired man remarks. “Why are you snooping on your girlfriend?”
“All of them were her patients at one point,” Sasuke replies. “And we don’t do labels.”
“But their visits were nowhere near their kill dates.”
“Their visits were logged as emergency procedures because Akugawa or their company doctor wasn’t available. So why?”
Kakashi smirks. “Are you insinuating they were there to get a glimpse of her? The recluse medical corporation heir. Nothings amiss in the recordings, right? No sexual body language?”
Sasuke hopes the same, but the lurch in his guts tells him otherwise. He swallows whatever saliva that hasn’t dried yet in his mouth in anticipation of the inevitable.
“The recordings are fine. She’s always accompanied by her assistant when she has clients,” the IT replies. “It’s the code that bothers me. You see, a malware is playing with it, looping the same frames while continuing the time ticks. Either someone knows their technology or this is a complete human error.”
-xxxxxxx-
May 7, 2021, 12:01 PM
“Oh, it’s you,” Laura says nonchalantly, never glancing up from her keyboard, and click-clacking away even though it’s already lunch break. “She’ll be out in a minute.”
“Do you know how to code?” He doesn’t spare her a glance either, his eyes trained on the door.
“Is this a side job? I can get Shin if you’d like. He fixes the systems here when he has time. He’s a computer geek before he settled for dentistry.” She stops typing and eyes her wristwatch. “She’s here.”
True enough, the door opens just as Laura tells him. She wears her rose hair loose today, falling like waves against her tucked in white long sleeve polo and denim jeans. She spots him after she gives her white coat to her waiting assistant.
Smile, wave, and unhurried walk to reach him. “A lunch break?”
“Wondering if you were still alive after your trip.” The jasmine in the air transports him to two different scenes, his memory being stretched out in two drastic dimensions, one where she’s writhing beneath him and one where he sees the corpse falling on top of him. The scents mix, and he fails to cover up his gag. Both women look at him with brows raised but he waves them off with his handkerchief.
“Days of absence and your heart grows fonder. That saying is true after all.” She places a hand on his cheek and softly taps it. “A sandwich?”
“I’m starving.”
“Two sandwiches then.”
8:19 PM
She invited him for dinner while they were munching on half-dozen random sandwiches from Subway. He didn’t talk about the case nor did he question her radio silence since her Belgium business trip. This was why she genuinely liked Detective Uchiha Sasuke.
Or maybe it was just the first time she was treated like she had an agency. The gestures for permission, the unspoken questions of consent, the way he wouldn’t touch her first or grab her or mar her skin even when they were having sex. Most men would have their true natures revealed once shown the great pussy. But there he was, always cradling her like she was porcelain china. Not that she minded. It was a breath of fresh air to be held like that, in gentle caresses and soft whispers that beg to betray his true feelings at any given second. It was madness not to be consumed by it, but it was tragedy that she only knew of this reality just now.
She knew he had an inkling. She messed up in the forest. If she had the luxury of time, she would have dismembered the man who grabbed her. A stab from a scalpel was a merciful way to go, and that man didn’t deserve it. Filthy hands.
The anger rushes to the surface, and she stabs the roasted meat rather too loudly.
“Is your meat still alive?” He emerges in her dining room and continues to look around. “Your wooden mansion is a far cry from your depersonalized penthouse.”
She laughs as she strains the cooked pasta. “I like having two personalities.” He must have triangulated by now that the location of this mansion is smacked in the center of the dump sites, a safe, close distance to the landfills, the forest, and even the meditation place. He must have seen the black pick-up truck on her garage, the one she uses for farming. She can see all the pieces fitting into a completed puzzle in his head, and she’s sad to let him go.
He opens the wine she placed on the counter, and he fills himself a glass. “You also have a crystal collection like Akugawa.”
“I gave him his first obsidian. Their healing properties are supposedly at maximum during full moon.” She places two plated bolognese pasta on the table and a wide platter of medium rare meat. “Dinner’s ready.”
“This looks good.” His tone is genuinely fascinated. “Didn’t know you could cook. We always dined in or ordered take out.”
“A change of pace, wouldn’t you think?” She also fills herself a glass of wine and watches in amusement as he takes a first bite of the meatballs she especially prepared for him.
“You should tell me where you source your meat. I’ll one up you in our next dinner.”
I’m too sad there won’t be a next one.
10:17 PM
Sakura changes position, and she’s on top of him, gyrating her hips in familiar pleasure. Sasuke wants to take it slow, to re-encounter her folds and curves after several days of not seeing her, despite his senses overriding in danger. He took her an hour ago, on her immaculate grainy wood counter, wine spilling on the sink as he thrusted into her unclothed core. She had gone commando, and this drove him insane. Maybe his lust is taking over him, clouding his judgment, muddling his perfect frame by frame memories, but he has to play this game. It’s only a matter of time.
He feels her insides throb in urgency, and he knows she’s near her orgasm. Her juices leak out, and he bucks against her wetness, releasing his load into her with eyes closed.
He waits for the scalpel to puncture his carotid, but nothing comes. “Sakura.”
She continues riding his limp member and rubbing her clit against his balls. A strategic distraction as they are coming down from a high. He expects her to trace lazy circles on his abdomen, a mannerism he picked up from their nights, but the dainty hands go to his neck instead.
He opens his eyes, and he sees a different Sakura. Her microexpressions are different, her eyes throwing daggers, soft pliant lips in hardened scowl, and hollowed cheeks.
“I don’t know what’s your issue with a scalpel, Sakura.” Her voice is different, the accent changed. “You must have fallen in love with him already. Such a frail human.”
“I wanted to prepare myself before I see him go. That is all.” Her face shifts and the emotions return to the Sakura he knows. He also notes the loosening grip on his neck, unaware that he is holding his breath.
Another shift and it’s back to the other Sakura. “She has such a saccharine charm effective in luring me to do things.” She smiles at him, but it’s not the smile he’s familiar with. “Don’t worry, you’re not gonna die yet.”
She chokes him with surprising strength. He places pressure on her wrists and elbows, but she doesn’t budge. His legs start to thrash out beneath him, and his sight starts to dim.
“Great work as always, sister. We’ve always wanted the truth about Madara, don’t we?”
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songtoyou · 4 years ago
Text
Chapter Three: Don’t Then
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Paring: Ransom Drysdale x Fabiola Rossi (OC)
Story Rating: This story will mostly be rated 18+ as it is revolves around a relationship that is Dominant/submissive. For each chapter, I will do my best to rate it accordingly, but please know that the overall story will have very adult themes.
Chapter Rating: Rated R.
Warnings: Swearing, BDSM themes, public hand job.
Word Count: 3,019
Story Summary: Huge “Ransom” Drysdale always thought of himself as a powerful man. With his family’s money and status, Ransom could get away with anything. He had the power and control others would envy. Ransom could get any woman he wanted with a snap of his fingers. He was always in charge. He commanded attention. And he hated it. Never having a job in his life (thanks to his mother, father, and grandfather always there to supplement his bank account) or any real-life goals, Ransom felt incomplete and directionless. That is until Fabiola Rossi entered his life and turned it completely upside down.
Chapter summary: Fabiola and Ransom go on their first date. They are having a good time until someone stops by to ruin the evening. 
A/N: It has literally been a year since I have updated this story. I apologize about that and hope to not take as long for the next chapter.
Bold font indicates text messaging.
I do not permit any of my fics to be distributed on other sites without my permission.
Taglist:  @winchwm, @patzammit​
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With any sexual partner, it is vital to maintain the separation of fantasy and reality. Sexual activities deemed “kinky” do not always result in instant gratification moments like movies, books, and television tend to show. Many considerations need to be involved when partaking in the acts of BDSM, such as personal feelings and possible risks. It is crucial for the Dominant to not put his or her Submissive in any uncomfortable scenarios and vice versa. BDSM interactions need to be steeped in solid communication, along with the collaboration of willingness to take personal responsibility for one’s actions and choices.
For Fabiola, she was determined to make sure that Ransom understands the essential aspects of BDSM interactions. Since he was new to BDSM, particularly as a submissive, it was her duty to help guide him throughout this unique experience. It was a responsibility that Fabiola never took for granted when it came to being a Domme. It was her duty to protect and guide her Subs when playing a scene. She loved being a Domme.
Currently, Fabiola was standing beside her closet, picking our different outfits to see what would look best for tonight. She wanted something casual and nothing too fancy. So, Fabiola opted for her dark red bandage dress with strappy side cutouts, a halter neck, and an open back with zipper closure that flattered her figure. She accompanied the dress with a black bicker chic crop jacket. Fabiola adorned the ensemble with black peep-toe ankle boots with lace embroidery and buckles, along with a black clutch. Her long hair was curled to cascade down her shoulders in waves, with red lips and dark eyeliner highlighting her facial features.
Fabiola instructed Ransom to pick her up at 8:00 PM at her apartment, and not a minute over. One thing she wanted to do was implement structure and consistency with Ransom. She desired to get him in the habit of being responsible and taking accountability. Fabiola figured that was the best place to start.
As Fabiola finished up getting ready, she heard her cellphone buzz. Thinking it was Ransom, she quickly reached for the device only to deflate. It wasn’t Ransom.
Jonathan: I need to see you. I can’t stop thinking about you, Fabiola. Please give me another chance.
Fabiola let out a frustrated groan when she read the message. Jonathan was her former boyfriend/submissive who appeared not to get the hint that things with them were over. The guy was too clingy for Fabiola to handle. He always wanted to be around her. He wanted more than what she was able to give him.
Fabiola: I can’t talk right now. I’m busy. 
Jonathan: Please! I need you!
Fabiola: NO! I told you that what we had is over. Now stop contacting me!
With a sigh, Fabiola put her phone in her clutch. ‘If you don’t want him to contact you, then block his number,’ Fabiola’s inner voice scolded her.
It wasn’t like Fabiola hadn’t thought about it. However, there was a part of her that couldn’t do it. She liked Jonathan. He was special to her. And some part of Fabiola still felt responsible for him.
She took out her phone and brought up the message chain.
Fabiola: Jonathan, I’m sorry. Look, I really can’t talk right now. How about tomorrow?
‘You’re an enabler!’ her inner voice yelled.
Jonathan: Yes! Thank you! Talk to you tomorrow, sweetheart. 😊
Fabiola rolled her eyes.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to stew over Jonathan’s messages for too long when the doorbell rang. She looked at the time, which read eight o’clock. She opened the door, and there was Ransom dressed to perfection. He wore all black from his jacket, shirt, slacks, and shoes. Very casual but still sophisticated. Fabiola could only guess Ransom’s clothes’ cost, which she knew each piece had to have been from a top designer.
“Hi,” Fabiola greeted. “You’re right on time.”
“I figured you’d count it against me if I didn’t,” Ransom confessed. He looked Fabiola up and down. “You look outstanding.”
“Thank you. So do you,” Fabiola complimented and walked out of her apartment to lock it up. 
Ransom offered Fabiola his arm, which she took, and walked her to his car. He would show that he could be a perfect gentleman since he was the one who recommended they go out for the night before returning to her place.
He wanted to relax but also show Fabiola a good time. Wining and dining women was one of Ransom’s specialties.
“So, where are we going?” Fabiola implored as she looked over at the man next to her.
“I figured I would take you to Yvonne’s. It’s a restaurant and bar. Nice atmosphere. Cool décor. You ever been?”
“No, never been,” she answered.
“I think you’ll like it.”
The remaining drive to the restaurant was quiet. It was as if neither knew what to bring up to start a conversation, which was not surprising. Ransom and Fabiola still didn’t know much about one another.
“How is your writing coming along since we last saw each other?” Fabiola probed as the quietness was getting to her. She figured asking Ransom about his writing was the safest conversation starter.
“Uh,” Ransom began as he steered his car through traffic. “It is…well, to be honest, I’m kind of stuck. I don’t know where to take the story next.”
Fabiola nodded in understanding. “Writer’s block. All too common. You know, some writers have shared with me how they combat writer’s block. You want to hear?”
“All ears.”
“Do you ever develop a list of favorite things your characters like, such as food, music, television shows, all that stuff? A writer told me they did that to help flesh out characters. That way, it helped to steer them where they needed to go within the story. Another writer told me that they would write one-shots where a character would do something different outside of the overall story. That way, you’re still getting your creative writing juices flowing instead of stewing and feeling bad about yourself for not writing,” Fabiola advised.
In all honesty, Ransom appreciated the advice. He was not used to kindness from another person who did not appear to want anything from him, at least not regarding his money or status. With Fabiola, he could tell that she was genuine with her advice offering.
After another fifteen minutes of mindless chitchat, Ransom pulled into a parking lot. He put the car in park and got out. Ransom hurried to the passenger door to help Fabiola out of the car, but she got out before he could open the door for her. 
“I’m sorry,” Fabiola giggled. “I never know if a guy is going to do that or not. I’ll let you open the door for me next time.”
With a chuckle, Ransom offered his arm once again and guided his date to the restaurant. Ransom was not kidding when he said that Yvonne’s décor was “cool.” Heck, it was more than that; it was fabulous. For Fabiola, it looked like gothic Alice in Wonderland, with its bookcases, elegant chandeliers, and other abstract lighting and art along the walls. Fabiola mainly got a kick out of the numerous skulls outlining the front of the bar.
“This place is amazing,” she gushed to Ransom.
“I had a feeling you would,” he smiled at her. Ransom was happy he was able to do something right.
They were greeted by the hostess and then escorted to their reserved table. 
“I’m so tempted to go up to those bookshelves and check out what they got,” Fabiola raved as she continued to take in her surroundings. 
Ransom tried to hold back his smile as he watched Fabiola. She looked like a kid in a candy store. He couldn’t fathom how this beautiful before him was a domme when she had the sweetest and, at times, goofy disposition. Fabiola was just who she was, carefree. Or at least that is what she presented on the outside. He wondered if she had any skeletons in her closet. 
He put down the wine/cocktail menu and leaned his arms on the table. “Tell me something, Ms. Rossi,” he began, “What makes you…tick?”
She quirked one of her perfectly tweezed eyebrows at Ransom, “What do you mean?”
“Like, what drives you crazy? What annoys you?”
“Oh, that is easy. The answer to that is stupid people. I have an extremely low tolerance to people who willingly choose to be ignorant,” she answered and grabbed the wine/cocktail menu. “What about you?”
“My family. They are the worst. You’d hate them for sure. But I won’t spoil the evening talking about them.”
“How about we order drinks,” Fabiola suggested as she continued to look at the drink menu. “Help us relax more, eh. What’s monkey shoulder?” she asked Ransom as she pointed to the drink that was called ‘Monkeys In A Pear Tree’ that had monkey shoulder, spiced pear, vanilla, almond, and orange bitters.
“It’s a blended malt scotch whiskey. It’s rather good. You should try it. Not with all that other shit in the drink, just the whiskey.”
“Yeah, I don’t need all that sugar. And I’m not a whiskey girl, unfortunately. I think I’ll go with a glass of wine,” Raina pointed out.
Ransom took the list back and perused the assortments of wine offerings. “How about I get us a bottle. Red or white?”
“Let’s go with red. You pick.”
Waving a waiter over, Ransom ordered a bottle of the red 2017 Syrah. It was a good wine. Not too sweet, but not too “woody” tasting as some would describe certain red wines. With their glasses filled, both opted to go for the shareable plate items—nothing too heavy, just enough to satisfy their stomachs. 
While they waited, Fabiola scooted her chair closer to Ransom. They were seated at a corner table with dim lighting. No one would be able to see what Fabiola was about to do. She placed one of her manicured hands on his thigh. Fabiola began to move her hand up and down. As Fabiola trailed her hand higher up Ransom’s thigh, she watched his face for any reaction that she should stop. When she didn’t see any hesitation from him, she rested her hand against the bulge in his pants. Fabiola squeezed it, and Ransom almost jumped from his seat. 
Ransom felt Fabiola begin to unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper. He looked around the restaurant to make sure no one was looking over at their table. Fabiola let out a little chuckle.
“Do you want me to stop?” she asked him.
He shook his head ‘no.’ “I need you to voice it, Baby Hughie,” Fabiola ordered him in a low voice while she continued to rub him out. He stirred in his seat as she slipped a hand under his briefs.
“Don’t stop,” Ransom managed to breathe out. His cock was almost rock hard.
Fabiola continued to stroke him. Back and forth. Nice and slow. Agonizingly slow. Ransom began to move his hips to try to increase the friction against his cock. 
“Look at you. So needy. You want to cum, don’t you? Is that what you want? You want to cum in a public setting, Baby Hughie?” teased Fabiola as she leaned over and began to kiss Ransom from his neck to his ear. “I want to see how long I can tease you before you eventually beg me to let you cum.”
Even when the waiter brought their food (who was oblivious to what was going on under the table), Fabiola did not remove her hand from Ransom’s pants. She ate her food with her other hand while she continued to stroke his cock with the other. Sometimes Fabiola would bring her fork to Ransom’s mouth so he would eat when she noticed he was barely touching his food. 
When Ransom felt a thumb rub his tip, he let out a low groan. “I need to cum,” he whispered through clenched teeth.
“I know you do, but I’m not going to allow it,” was all Fabiola said and continued to eat her food. 
It was only when she was finished eating that she stopped stroking Ransom’s cock and removed her hand from his pants. She assisted in zipping and buckling Ransom back up to make sure he looked presentable. Fabiola stood up from the table. She handed Ransom one of the clean napkins. “Wipe the sweat from your forehead and drink some water. I’m going to go wash my hands.” 
As Ransom watched Fabiola’s retreating form, he leaned back in his chair and let out a loud sigh. Reaching for his wine glass, he downed the contact in one gulp and poured himself another. Ransom squeezed his own junk as it was still hard. He began to think about other things to stifle the hardness. ‘Family reunions. Aunt Joni in a bathing suit. Grandma in a bathing suit.’ Ransom throughout in his head. 
Unsurprisingly, they worked. His stiffened cock was beginning to recede. Gulping down another glass of wine, Ransom poured himself another. He didn’t quite know how to feel at that moment. He was unsatisfied with not being allowed to cum, but also intrigued with how turned he felt. 
The feeling of not being in control was all-new for Ransom. At that moment, it was Fabiola who called the shots. She told him that he was not allowed to cum. He noticed the chastising tone in her voice when she ordered him to wipe off his sweat and drink water. Normally, Ransom would scoff at someone commanding to do things, but there was something incredibly erotic when Fabiola did it. He picked up his napkin and began to wipe off the sweat from his forehead. He drank his water and waited for the woman, who excited and astounded him, to return.  
Unfortunately, Ransom’s euphoria came to a crashing halt when he heard, “Hey, son. What are you doing here?”
Ransom looked up to see his father, Richard Drysdale, standing before him. “What the Hell are you doing here?” Ransom retorted coldly. 
Ignoring his son’s cold tone and icy glare, Richard took it upon himself to take a seat at the table. He began picking the food off of the plates and took Ransom’s glass of wine to sip for himself. 
“You got a date?” Richard probed his son. 
Ransom let out a frustrated groan. He needed to get out of here. “Is mom here as well, or are you with one of your side pieces?” 
Before Richard could reply, Fabiola came back to the table. She was caught off guard by the new addition who was eating their food and drinking their wine. “Sorry I took so long. I got caught up talking to a woman who wanted to know where I purchased my shoes, then we got off tangent, and well…I’m back now. Who is this?”
“No one important,” Ransom replied.
Richard glared at his son but hid his animosity with a laugh. “He’s a kidder that one. Hi, I’m Richard Drysdale. Ransoms’ father,” he introduced himself. Richard stuck his hand out for Fabiola. Which she accepted with the hand that was previously stroking his son’s cock. 
“Fabiola Rossi.”
“Well, aren’t you beautiful,” Richard complimented. Ransom noticed a look in his father’s eyes. He knew that look. It was the look Richard always had when he wanted a woman that was not his wife. 
“Again, I ask, what are you doing here?” Ransom again asked his father.
Richard looked over at the bar with Ransom and Fabiola following suit. They saw Richard wave a young woman who waved back. “I’m here for a business dinner.”
“Bullshit.”
Ransom knew that his father was having an affair. Everyone in the family knew, except for Linda. But that was his mother. She would rather ignore the problems in her marriage and family while pretending everything is perfect. 
“Look, son, I didn’t mean to crash your date. I just stopped by to say ‘hi,’ that is it,” Richard pointed out.
Ransom merely scoffed. “Okay. You said your ‘hi,’ now leave.”
“Actually, Ransom, I think we should start heading out,” Fabiola spoke up while looking around for their waiter.
“I didn’t mean to cut your evening short,” said Richard as he got up from the table. He stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before bidding adieu and going back to his “business dinner.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ransom was more than annoyed; he was fuming. He was ready to blow, and Fabiola could see it. She watched as Ransom pulled out a couple of hundred bills from his wallet and stood up. She stood up as well gathered her jacket and clutch. Following Ransom’s lead out of the restaurant, Fabiola was only a few steps behind him as they walked to the car. He stopped in front passenger door side and turned around. He watched as Fabiola put on her jacket.  Her hair was lightly blowing in the night wind. His father was right; she was beautiful.
Moving towards Fabiola, Ransom ran his hands up and down her arms to help warm her up. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, indicating what happened in the restaurant with his father. “My dad…he isn’t someone I…”
“It’s fine, Ransom. Let’s not have him ruin the rest of our night. You still want to come over, right?”
Ransom leaned his forehead against Fabiola’s before pressing his lips against hers. He didn’t deepen the kiss and retreated after only a couple of seconds. Ransom went back to resting his forehead against Fabiola’s while she stroked his left cheek.
“Tell me what you want?” she asked him.
Ransom looked into her eyes like he was searching for something. He sighed at what felt like the hundredth time that night. “I don’t know what I want. That is the problem. All I do know is that I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to be my dad.”
Fabiola nodded her head in understanding. “Don’t then.”
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