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some-kindofgnome · 4 years

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Kinktober #24: Mine: Katsuki Bakugou

On the way home from a night out with Bakugou, you realize that things may not have gone as smoothly as you’d hoped.

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, jealous!bakugou, rough sex, rough oral sex (both m and f-receiving), cum swallowing, marathon fucking, spanking, choking if you squint, a little aftercare

Notes: This is f i l t h y. And kind of brutal, to be honest. But if anyone’s going to be an absolute animal in bed, it’s Bakugou when he’s feeling jealous.

It’s a little more proofread than usual. And kind of on the longish side (~3.5k), so strap in.

You’re welcome? I think?

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s not until you’re halfway home that you realize something’s up.

Another Friday night, another agency gala. Bakugou hates black tie until you remind him how good he looks in a suit, and he loves to see you in those body-hugging silk dresses as often as possible, so he’s usually happy to suck it up for the occasion.

He’s such a misanthrope that you weren’t even surprised when he tugged you out of there in a hurry, whisking you into the car and driving off in sullen silence.

You’ve been trying to make conversation all the way home- it was nice to see Denki again, I hear Kiri’s teaching at UA these days, did you know Iida’s going back for his Master’s degree- but every time you mention a name from his past, Bakugou’s shoulders draw up tighter around his ears.

Fair enough.

You keep the radio low and distract yourself with the passing downtown lights. You feign serenity, but inside your mind is coming to pieces. If Bakugou’s annoyed at something- comically, playfully, extravagantly annoyed- he’s got road rage like nothing you’ve ever seen. But tonight, he pulls silently up to each red light. Jaw set. Crimson eyes steady on the road.

Something’s really up with him tonight.

He turns smoothly into your underground garage, pulling the car into his parking spot and killing the engine. He shoots you one smouldering, solid glare, then gets out of the car and slams the door nearly hard enough to dent it.

“Baby?” Your voice is tiny as it echoes across the concrete garage, and you shuffle to catch up with him in your narrow skirt and heels. As he pushes open the heavy glass door and you follow him into the elevator bay, your patience narrows.

“Okay,” you sigh, folding your arms over your chest. “You’ve had your time to pout. You’ve made it clear, you’re mad at me. So, are you going to tell me what I did, or do I have to figure that part out for myself?”

The doors roll open. Bakugou grabs your wrist.

He tugs you into the elevator and slams you against the wall so fast you see spots in the bright fluorescent lights over your head. Before you can even process the change in his character, he’s pressed his whole torso along yours, pinning you to the cool granite wall and crushing his mouth on yours.

You kind of hate how into it you are.

You let him kiss you for a minute, but you’re not backing down from this fight. Bakugou’s never been good at communication. You’re working on it. There’s no way you’re letting this one slide.

“Katsuki,” you bark, jerking your face harshly to one side and planting your hands on his shoulders. He gives a vicious snarl, but he’s not forcing you to kiss him.

“Stop it,” you hiss. “If something’s wrong, tell me.”

“You mean you really haven’t figured it out by now?” His voice is low and gravelly and edged by wildness. It’s clear he’s been barely holding on to his temper all the way home.

“No. I haven’t.” The elevator starts to move. It’s a tall building- and it’s a long way up to the penthouse.

“Course you didn’t,” he grunts, still pinning you hard. He draws his mouth along the edge of your jaw. “Shoulda known you wouldn’t notice the way they were all lookin’ at you.”

“Who?”

His temper cracks again and he snarls, shoving you more firmly against the wall again. One hand slides up your chest and his fingers grip tightly at your shoulder, teasing at the hollow of your throat.

Oh.

So it’s gonna be like that.

“Everyone,” he hisses. “Kirishima. Denki. Everyone. You wore that tight little fuckin’ dress and they couldn’t keep their eyes off you.”

“Katsuki,” you croon low and smooth, even though you know you’re gonna regret it. “don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

The palm that teased at your throat closes around it now, using its gentle grip to push your head against the wall. He knows exactly how hard to squeeze to get a rise out of you. And he squeezes.

“Don’t.”

He’s warning you, but you’re too relieved to know that you never actually did anything wrong. This is just another one of Bakugou’s temper tantrums that you’re going to benefit from.

“You are,” you hiss, grinning wider. “Jealous of your old classmates? C’mon, baby, you know better than that.”

“Shut up.”

His mouth covers yours again. His thumb brushes over the flutter of your pulse point as he licks into your mouth, biting down hard and sucking at your lower lip.

The elevator chimes. Before the doors can roll open, he stoops and grabs you by the thighs. He slings you over his shoulder and straightens easily, delivering a harsh slap to your ass.

“Katsuki!” You squirm over his shoulder, beating at the back of his coat as your face goes hot. There are two apartments on this floor, and the chances that one of your very respectable neighbours is standing in the hallway aren’t zero.

Smack.

Another blow, to the other cheek this time, and you go still.

“Quit strugglin’,” Bakugou barks, “or I’ll drop you on your head.”

He shifts your weight easily into one arm, digging into his pants pocket and producing his key. Deftly, he unlocks the door to your condo and pushes it in with his shoulder. As soon as he kicks the door shut behind him, he sets you on your feet.

Before you can scold him for your burning cheeks, he shoves both hands under the edges of your coat, wedging it off your shoulders.

“C’mere,” he snarls. He slides one hand down your back, between the wool and the silk, and palms the swell of your ass. Your coat hits the floor in a swath of black tweed and then he’s stooping again to pick you up, forcing your thighs apart around his hips. The smirk that decorates his features is vicious. His cheeks have gone pink.

You’re a sucker for him when he gets like this.

“Listen to me.” He sets you on the kitchen counter and steps up between your thighs, shoving your long skirt up and sideways around its high slit. “I am not. Jealous. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re fuckin’ mine, okay?”

“You’d think the fact that we’re-hmmmph.”

He kisses you again before you get to finish your sentence, then rips himself from your lips. He tugs your body closer by the hips and buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, nipping and sucking hard at the skin there in his best attempt at leaving a mark. All the while, his fingers fumble with the straps on your dress, slipping them off your shoulders.

He wraps his hands in the silk bodice and tugs. Hard. One of the straps snaps over your upper arm as he shoves your dress down around your waist, exposing your chest.

“Baby,” you whine, but you know he’ll make it up to you later.

“All fuckin’ mine,” he growls again, slipping his rough palms over your breasts and squeezing them together. “Gonna make you feel it, sweetness.”

He attacks your collarbones and breasts, leaving mark after mark as his teeth and tongue lave over your skin. When he’s had enough, he gets down on his knees in front of the counter and curls his fingers into your underwear, tearing it clean off your body.

“Katsuki!” You grab him by the top of the head, attempting to push him away by his hair.

“You shouldn’t wear such flimsy shit, if you don’t want me to break it,” he chuckles, already biting up the inside of your thigh.

“Tell me,” he mumbles, tugging you right to the edge of the counter and bracing your thighs in both hands. “Can Shitty Hair make you scream like this?”

He dives into your pussy, plunging his tongue straight into your tight heat and making you shudder and moan. You can’t help but bend to his whim- he knows your body better than his own, and he’s not shy about showing it off.

Bakugou’s desperate, tongue-fucking you with reckless abandon. He swirls messy saliva around the tender nub of your already-swollen clit. Sometimes he’s patient, working you to the edge slowly, but tonight he forces pleasure into you, brutal and unrelenting.

You live for it.

“Katsuki,” you whine, raking your fingers through his unruly hair, “baby, please, oh, fuck!”

Your first orgasm hits you mercilessly, and you cum with a deep cry of pleasure as your heels draw up his back. You’re still wearing your shoes- pretty, strappy sandals that drive him crazy. Even crazier, when they’re digging into his flesh like they are now.

“That’s it,” he growls, drawing back from you all slicked-up and wild-eyed. His lips are flushed deep from gorging himself on you, and he wipes the back of his mouth with a silk shirtsleeve as he gets to his feet, shrugging impatiently out of his suit jacket.

“God, fuck,” you sigh. You reach for him, but he grabs you again, lifting you onto his hips. This time he’s hard, and you can feel it twitching against the inside of your thigh, heated and ready.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”

This time, he makes it as far as the sofa before he flops into the cushions, dragging you into his lap. You straddle him eagerly and lean forward against his chest, the fabric of your dress still bunching around your waist and hips. You grab him by the jaw and kiss away the lingering remnants of your lipstick while he palms your ass and grinds the stiff, pressed wool of his crotch and his straining cock shamelessly against you.

For an instant, you sense control. And he lets you enjoy it. Slowly he lifts his hands to your back, smoothing the fabric of your dress with one palm so he can grasp its zipper and slide it open with the other.

As soon as he breaks from your mouth to lift the fabric over your head, you know what you want to do with your reins.

“Where’r you goin’?” He scolds, watching you draw back from his lap. His crimson gaze is clouded with lust. But his jaw is still tight, frustration licking at his body like flames.

“Not far.”

You drop to your knees in front of him. Tug his shirt roughly out of his pants and slide your fingers underneath it to find his fly.

He chuckles, low and feral, smoothing a hand through what’s left of your hairstyle for the night.

“That’s my girl,” he chides. “Show me who you belong to.”

The prospect strikes a nerve of want somewhere deep inside you. You dig your hands into the folds of his undershorts, wrapping your hands around the hot silk of his erection and pulling it into the open.

It’s impossible for you to pretend that Bakugou doesn’t have the most perfect dick you’ve ever seen. When he’s hard like this, it’s pink and flushed and drooling slick precum. It’s thick and soft and curving up toward his belly. It’s like he’s made for you. You fit together like the two halves of a lock. Sculpted for each other, molded out of one another.

And he loves it when you suck him off.

You give the tip of his twitching cock a bare little lick and his fingers twist, tightening threateningly in your hair.

“Don’t tease me, sweetness,” he snarls, “or I’ll make you choke on it.”

He’s probably going to do that anyway.

You brace your hands on his thighs and straighten up, sucking his tender tip into your mouth. You lave your tongue over it, and he bristles, watching you carefully with a tight-lipped groan.

It’s not long before you settle into a rhythm, sucking him down messily while your right hand picks up the slack. He’s grabbing you by the hair and staying tense. His thighs are rock hard on either side of you.

You take him into your throat and stay there, and he breaks.

“Aw, fuck,” he growls. His head falls back and he grabs your head with his other hand, too. His hips buck into your throat and you gag, spitting messily around his shaft as he starts to fuck your throat in earnest.

The sounds that erupt from the both of you are obscene. You’re drooling all over his suit pants, but his control is nowhere to be found. And when you grab his balls and squeeze his spine goes concave. He throws his head back. He howls.

“Fuck!” His hips stutter hard, but he doesn’t stop. Neither do you.

“Aw, fuck, sweetness,” he growls. “Fuck. Fuck. Look at you, chokin’ on my dick. Look at you, taking it so fuckin’ good. I’m gonna cum so fuckin’ hard down your throat. I’m gonna make you taste me, baby, so close. Fuck, oh, fuck, oh-“

His babbling ceases as the spring in his body is released. It’s like all his nerves go inside out for a second. You grab his thighs as hard as you can and squeeze while he ruts into your face and pumps his load right down your throat.

When he’s finished, you draw your mouth carefully from his twitching dick. You half-expect to see him sprawled across the couch completely spent, but before you can even get a look at his face, he grabs you all over again. His voice is sandpaper in your ear.

“’M takin’ you to bed. Now.”

You’re already tender, but you’re ready for more. You live for this; when he gets too wild to speak, too crazy to stop. Testing the limits of your stamina is something that will never get boring.

Especially not when you’ve got Bakugou on the other end.

He lays you down against the pillows and flips you onto your belly.

“Stay put.”

He steps back, shucking himself out of his pants and undershorts. He practically tears away his shirt and tie. He doesn’t come back to you until he’s naked. When he does, he drags you up onto your knees and keeps your face pushed into the pillows.

“There you go,” he mutters. “So fuckin’ sweet for me, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you know that? Gonna fuck you so good they’ll hear you screamin’ back at the party.”

You’re gonna have to ask Kirishima to look at you like that more often.

He bends behind you and seals his mouth over your pussy, laving his tongue over your folds again. His shoulder bobs against your ass and you can tell he’s stroking himself- encouraging his spent flesh to rise to the occasion.

The taste of you always spurs him on.

When he’s ready, he pulls abruptly away and lines the tip of his cock up with your slick folds. He grabs the curve of your ass hard with one hand. Gives it a hard smack. It’s already stinging from his rough treatment earlier, but you’re sure he’s not finished with it.

“You gonna tell me who you belong to?” He taps the tip of his cock against your clit, teasing you with the heated flesh. You want it so bad by now that it aches, and you turn your head to gasp for breath as you grip hard at the sheets.

“I never belonged to anyone else,” you plead softly. He doesn’t like that answer and punctuates his disappointment with another hard slap to your ass. He draws a cry from you. You’re starting to lose yourself.

“Try again.”

“Please,” you sob, wiggling your hips against his. He leans back, keeping himself from you.

“Who. Do you. Belong. To?”

“You.”

The answer clicks as your need grows to unbearable levels. You say it like a prayer. Like a plea for mercy.

Bakugou delivers.

“That’s right. You’re mine, sweetness. You hear me? Mine. All mine.”

He sinks into you on the last syllable and his voice turns to jelly. His thighs are strong and firm as they bump against yours. He bottoms out. Gives you a breath to adjust to the stretch.

Then he fucks. Hard.

He grabs you by the hips and slams himself deep into your pussy, quickly settling into a brutal rhythm that leaves his thighs slapping hard against the curve of your ass. He punctuates every other stroke with a hard smack to your ass, too, leaving you raw and stinging.

It’s good. It’s so good this way. He bends over to bring his chest close to yours as he fucks you hard and fast, growling possessively in your ear. He snatches you by the hair when you try to lift your head, shoving your face back into the pillows and muffling your deep cries of pleasure.

Every hard thrust of his cock seems to reverberate through your entire body. At this angle, his tip nudges your cervix like a panic button. It sends shockwaves of pleasure over every nerve.

“That’s right,” he’s still babbling above you, breathless and panting, but forcing the words out anyway. “That’s right, sweetness, you’re fuckin’ mine. Nobody does this to you but me, baby, nobody. Gonna fuck you ‘till you scream. Gonna fuck you till you beg me to stop. Gonna fill you with so much of my fuckin’ cum, you’ll never forget who you belong to.”

Your climax draws closer by the moment. You’re trying to warn him, but he’s got you pinned fast. The pleasure looms inevitably over you, and you can’t stop the crest of the wave before it crashes over your trembling form.

You cum hard around him, your muscles squeezing and fluttering around his pounding cock. He gives a shout of surprise and fucks you double-time through your climax. As your high retreats he finds his, sliding an arm around your hips and sliding balls-deep before pleasure erupts along his spine and he pumps you full of slick cum.

When it’s over, he flips you onto your back. He pushes his cock inside you again despite your soft whines of sensation, pumping slowly in and out of you and watching the way his cum spills over as he fills you all over again.

“You got one more in you?” He pants.

“Baby,” you plead, overstimulated and spent. He slides his hands up your ribcage, thumbing your tight nipples.

“C’mon, sweetness. You can handle it. I know you got it in you.”

“One more,” you pant. You stretch your cramping legs out around his hips, toeing each one of your heels off behind you. He slides his palms all the way up your shoulders and down your arms, finding your wrists and pinning them tightly over your head.

“God damn,” he grunts, looking you over. Marred with the marks his teeth printed across your skin. Mottled with bruises already forming on your hips, your thighs, your throat.

“Look at you,” he purrs. He shifts your wrists into one hand and strokes the fingertips of his other over the bruises on your throat. He grins wickedly.

“Better make those worth your while.”

His palm lowers against your throat as his hips pick up speed again. He fucks you hard into the mattress beneath you. The ache in your hips is exacerbated by the sudden friction, but it’s cooled by the warm slick of his cum inside you.

Neither of you last long this time.

Your third orgasm of the night is tight and desperate, and you come down from your high shaking and straining against his hold.

“Not gonna… can’t hold on,” he warns. “Fuck, sweetness, fuck, baby, fuuuuuck-“

He collapses onto you as he cums, burying his hips into the apex of your thighs and pushing another fresh load into your belly. His cock stirs inside you as he shudders and finally goes soft against you. Spent at long last.

When he pulls his softening dick from your body, you’re well past overstimulated.

He’s fucked his temper out on you.

“Alright,” he rasps. “You’re okay, sweetness. C’mere.”

He rolls onto his side and settles a hand over your belly, rubbing slow and gentle as he peppers kisses along your shoulder. He gives your hand a squeeze and rolls out of bed, snagging his undershorts from the floor and climbing into them.

He goes quiet, when it’s time to take care of you. Sometimes you wonder if he feels guilty about using you like this. But you’ve talked about it. You stop him when you’ve had enough. You’re good at that.

He likes that you’re not afraid to stand up to him.

Bakugou wraps you in a blanket from the bed and carries you out to the living room, depositing you on the couch. He can keep an eye on you easily as he heads to the kitchen to get you a drink. It’s important to you that he stays close when you need him like this.

He kneels in front of you and slips his fingers under your heavy chin.

“Here we go, baby. C’mon. Drink it.”

He tilts a glass of cool tap water against your lips and you raise a hand to steady it, drinking down a few, steady gulps. You’re heavy and sex-drunk and sleepy, warming his bitter heart with the expressions that cross your hazy face.

“That’s it.”

He slides beneath you and pulls you-blanket and all- into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you. Cradling your body with his. He leans down and settles his forehead over yours. His eyelashes brush your cheek. He lets out a deep, heavy sigh.

“You’re mine,” he mumbles to you, but it takes on a different meaning altogether when he says it like this. You’re mine, he’s telling you, and I’m gonna take care of you.

He finds your hand and brushes his thumb over the diamond ring that rests there. In truth, that’s all the proof he needs that you’ve signed up for him.

All of him.

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #my hero academia #kinktober #jbbkinktober2020 #bakugo #mha bakugo katsuki #mha fanfiction #mha fanfic #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfic

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imagine-straykids · 4 years

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Stray Kids SS: Argument PT. 1

SS for short scenarios. Stray Kids arguing with their significant others

requested? No. I just write whenever I feel like it.

genre: fluff, angst, romance, etc etc.

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Bang Chan

You’re no bragger but you think you’re pretty reasonable most of the times. You understand your boyfriend is a busy person and his work came first and foremost. You’ve tried not to take it personally and he has made it pretty clear before you guys even got into this relationship that he wouldn’t be the best person with time management.

Of course you took a gamble and compromised to form this bond with the one and only Christopher Bang. You had always put his feelings first whether that’s him choosing his friends, work, or music over you, you were definitely okay with that as long as he came back to you at the end of the day. Even the smallest texts nearing the end of the night like “Goodnight sweetie, hope you had a good day!” was enough for you. You weren’t asking for much. You don’t know how much lower you can set your standards because slowly and progressively, Chan was already failing to meet them.

The most you guys have ever been apart was maybe two weeks and even then, Chan had always made sure to check on you through texts or phone calls. So when it was nearing a month, and he has rejected your invitation to do something for the second time in a month, you were left to feel less than pleasant whether you had set yourself up for failure or perhaps did you deserve more than what you had settled for.

You couldn’t help but to be upset to some degree and even then you still doubted if your feelings were valid. You even felt guilty since you had promised him a long time ago you would be understanding. Were you wrong for just wanting a little bit of your boyfriend’s attention?

So when Felix brought you his breakfast treats like he would every Sunday because the boy loves baking, he could tell in your eyes that your world was seeing more than blue. You weren’t your usual self who was always welcoming and greeted him with warmth. The tone in your voice and your body language imitated that of a walking dead and although you tried your hardest to put on a great appearance, Felix could see right through you.

When he had asked you if you were alright, a sea of tears just came bursting through. Like a puddle that you had held inside for weeks finally being freed. You told Felix everything and everything. It was nice to have someone to talk to, for once in a long time. Felix had always been very understanding of you and was very much like a brother. He reassured you and you felt so much better after, that when he left, you even thought you might finally be able to get a good nap after some words of comforts.

Your nap was shortly disrupted when a series of loud knocks were ringing through your door. It took you a few seconds to process everything because your brain was still trying to wake up along with you. Then a beep from your phone was heard. You turned to the left side where you had placed your phone and noticed long notifications of texts and missed calls from Chan. Oh lord. Well of course who could that be at the door then.

Felix had only told Chan out of good intention, and honestly you weren’t even surprised. Not one thing said to one of those boys will stay in its origin. You crankily tossed your blanket aside and walked up to the door as you took a deep breath. You opened the door and it was just the one person you were expecting.

Chan looked totally out of breath, as if he had been beaten by a stick over and over again, you can see the sweats tracing along the line of his forehead down to his cheeks and his hair has gotten messier than usual.

“Chan--” You were cut when Chan just shoved himself inside your apartment.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He looked at you dead in the eyes as he shut the front door.

“Tell you what?” You weren’t acting naive but you just wanted to know what exactly Felix had told him.

“What you told Felix. Why didn’t you tell me that? That you wanted to hang out with me, that you’ve been feeling sad and lonely?”

“I did. I asked you twice if you wanted to go out or do something. You said no both times.” You defended yourself.

“Why didn’t you say anything when you were not feeling good then?” A worrisome look overshadowed his angrier look earlier.

“Pfft,” you scoffed. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Really Chan? Do I need to feel less than okay, do I need to question if my boyfriend even wants to be with me, for you to actually worry now?” you challenged him full on.

“What do you mean.” Chan wasn’t gullible, but sometimes when he gets too caught up on one thing, he misses another.

“Why should it be my responsibility that you act like a reasonable boyfriend who cares about his girlfriend’s needs. I shouldn’t need to tell you when you should be doing your parts. You were on the line of almost ignoring me for a whole month, doing whatever you’re doing without caring for my well being, and the two times I ask to do something, I get pushed aside. And you’re here telling me I’m not trying harder?”

“I already told you from the beginning, y/n, that I am not the best person to be in a relationship with. I lose track of times, get lost in my own thoughts. I apologize if I made you feel like I didn’t care about you. I do. Sometimes I just need time to myself, you know. And I try to do it without hurting your feelings but it’s hard. Because I care about you too.”

“I know that you’ve warned me from the beginning. And I’m a fool. I can’t do it anymore, Chan. I’m not the girlfriend you want me to be. I thought I could do it because I love you so much... but it hurts to be away from you. I can’t do it, Chan. Sometimes I just miss you, and want to be with you, but I’m afraid I’m going to bother you because you’ve already set your boundaries. I’m sorry.” you started sobbing even thought you told yourself you weren’t going to cry.

Chan quickly pulled you into a hug as you ugly sob into his chest.

“It’s going to be okay, y/n. We can get through this together. If you still love me, we can talk it through. You still love me, right?” he angled your frowning face up to his.

“Of course,” you answer like music to his ear.

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Lee Know

Before you ever accepted Minho’s confession, you’ve been told by nearly everyone around him that he would be a handful. And oh Jesus, you wish they had warned you better, because he wasn’t just a handful. Minho was a pain in the ass if he didn’t try. Even before you got together with him, he found pleasure in teasing and making fun of you whenever he got the chance to.

But besides the assholery moves Minho liked to pull, when he was just with you, he showed sides of himself that only you got to experience. That’s pretty much your answer whenever somebody ask you how did you guys even got into a relationship considering y’all were pretty much like fire and water. The person who everyone else found to be a living nightmare because you just don’t mess with him since he has such a way with his words, you’ll find yourself questioning your intelligence.

Minho can either be the best person you’ll ever meet in your lifetime or as so he likes to claim, or he can be the person that makes your feet turn the other way whenever you hear his name. So you knew this weren’t going to turn out pretty when Minho was forced to be in a team with Hyunjin for game night and Hyunjin was losing every single point possible.

At first, him and the rest tried to play it off light heartedly, but you can feel the room growing sour each time Hyunjin missed the hints and was unable to score a point for this game of Charades that was suggested by the super innovative Chan, who decided that Hyunjin and Minho in the same team was evolution.

The others were having a blast poking fun at Hyunjin and Minho whose points were definitely not looking very nice until Minho out of a sudden, slapped the pile of papers onto the ground and said he’s had it.

“I don’t want to be in a team with him! He sucks!” Minho pointed fingers at Hyunjin who obviously took it personal by the look of his face.

The room silenced and everybody just stared until Chan spoke up, “Come on, just this once. You guys are never on the same team because you always want to change.”

“Yeah, because he sucks, can’t you see. Even a 5 year old kid would be able to score more points than him. We’re not even losing by a little. We’re unredeemable at this point,” Minho spit out without missing a single beat.

Everybody was growing uncomfortable, especially Hyunjin who had done his best to stay positive the whole time.

“Minho! Can you not. That’s incredibly rude. It’s just a game. Losing one night won’t kill you. How childish can you be.” You stared at your own boyfriend in disgust.

“Really now, you’re going to argue with me against this?” It was like he really couldn’t believe you were not on his side.

“So what if I am. You’re acting ridiculous and you deserve to know it.”

“Guys! Please stop. Don’t argue because of me please. He’s right. I wasn’t very good. Don’t be angry at him because of me, y/n. I’ll be fine. I’m going to go outside to get some fresh air, I’ll feel better once I come back.” Hyunjin excused himself and left.

You could only roll your eyes when Minho, being his stubborn self was refusing to go after Hyunjin and continued to stay in the same spot.

“How selfish can one be.” You criticized him before you followed after Hyunjin.

You had hoped Hyunjin didn’t think too much of it, knowing how Minho usually is. Being the sweetheart he is, he thanked you and told you not to worry. When you went back inside, the others notified you that Minho had already left and honestly, you could care less. He was being a d*ck and this time, you weren’t going to cave in. Only time would help kill that inflated ego of his.

About a week has passed and you still haven’t talked to Minho and vice versa. You knew that his diva ass would never give in, so you didn’t quite know why you were silently battling him when you’re pretty sure if you wanted to fix this, you’ll have to do it yourself. But you didn’t want to.

You’ve had enough of Minho always getting what he wants, always having the last say in anything, and thinking that you’ll always bend backward for him. It’s kind of funny because Hyunjin had actually told you that Minho already apologized, so why are you guys still fighting? Pride. Now it’s just a fight of pride. And as much as Minho has it, you have a lot of it as well.

It was the weekend, and usually you’ll spend your weekend with Minho doing whatever you guys usually do but since he wasn’t here anymore, you decided to just spend your day relaxing with a nice cup of tea watching Netflix. It was your day off work and you weren’t going to let this day go to waste.

You gently set your tea down on the little table to your right, about to lay against the couch when the corner of your eyes caught your screen lit up with a text message. You sat back up and struggled for about a couple seconds trying to reach your phone that you had placed a little too far.

It was from Minho. You couldn’t believe it. Reading what he sent you just made it even more amusing.

Stupid, are you going to apologize or not - Minho Lee

Why should I apologize. What the hell? I didn’t do shit - Y/n

Okay well I already said sorry to Hyunjin so I don’t know why you so pressed for. I didn’t do nun to you. I mean I know you kind of had a thing for him and all before we met but don’t take it out on me - Minho Lee

This little shit, you thought.

Bruh. I never liked him tf. I just think he’s very pretty. Prettier than me. And unlike someone, he actually has half a brain and some human decency - Y/n

Okay we get it, you have a crush on Hyunjin - Minho Lee

No, dumbass. The problem is you always going around saying, doing whatever you like without considering other people’s feelings. I know that’s your personality and all, but there’s a limit between what’s okay and what’s crossing the line, and whenever I try to tell you, you never listen. Always doing whatever you want. Hyunjin is one of your best friend and you hurt his feelings the other day and didn’t even feel bad about it until someone got in your face and told you you were being a d*ck. I love you, Minho. But I just wish you would listen sometimes and be open to I don’t know... improvements? - Y/n

I’m sorry, I’ve just grew up this way so it’s hard to get out of a pattern. Sometimes I say things I don’t mean and sometimes I say things I do mean and then I don’t realize that my actions has caused harm to the other person, because I’ve just always been this way you know. Others have tried telling me before but I've always brushed it off because I am a stubborn person. But I care about you. You’re one of the very first person other than the members that I deeply care about. So if you’re telling me this out of love then I’ll take it into consideration. I know I should’ve been nicer to Hyunjin as well. Chan yelled at me for a while the other day, so please don’t yell at me too :( - Minho Lee

Of course I care about you. Everything I do is out of love, dear. You’re one hell of a nuisance but I love you. I know you grew up this way and it is difficult getting out of a pattern, but take little steps. I’ll be here with you. and yeah, you totally deserved that from Chan. Jk I love you - Y/n

You’re mean :( can I come over. We were supposed to go shopping today - Minho Lee

Mhmmm. Let me think about it - Y/n

Well you have 2 seconds, because I’m already outside your door - Minho Lee

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Changbin

Changbin liked to brag about anything and everything, whether that’s how many confessions he got on Valentines, to how many people who wanted to be his partner when it came to a science project, or even the amount of girls that would hit on him daily.

You never really minded because that was just how he is. And of course, mainly because you knew all those scenarios only existed in his head and was as real as flying fairies and pink unicorns. So when someone was actually blatantly hitting on him, Changbin wasn’t as knowledgeable as his bluffs claimed to be.

Changbin was one of the best from his music class, so good that the professor made him the teacher’s assistant even when the semester was on going. He usually talk tales of how many students usually needs his help when it came to writing lyrics or composing as a beginner. Interesting enough, but nothing major as he’d like to phrase it.

Then every time when you guys would usually meet at the end of classes to which you usually ask how his day went, he started talking about this girl who he’s currently assisting. At first it was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a student from his class who he’s helping because that’s his job. Even the first two or three days of his on-going blabbering about this student didn’t kick something in you until maybe the fourth time this week where this girl is always managing to squeeze herself into his schedule everyday. It shouldn’t have bothered you, but for some reason it did.

Especially when he’d say alarming things like “Oh yeah and she also asked me if I wanted to get a drink after class but I told her I have plans.” or “She compliments me a lot and told me if I have time, she’d love to listen to my work.”

Maybe you’re overreacting and she’s just a really engaging and kind person. You felt bad at first for assuming such a thing about another human being, so you gave her the benefit of the doubt because you didn’t know your dumbass boyfriend would be this oblivious when someone is clearly trying to get inside his pant.

So when you happened to walk past the school garden the following week and saw the both of them from your very clear sight, you were a little more than dumbfounded. This girl was not even trying to hide it at all. You didn’t know how Changbin was keeping his eyes to himself at this point. The outfit she was wearing was definitely very sexy and appealing. Changbin was still faced down, scribbling something on the music sheet trying to get the female to engage but she clearly had something else in mind.

You could’ve sworn you saw her hand trailed alongside Changbin’s thigh and so you accidentally let out a shriek, but quickly hid behind the thick white pillar, grumpily dragging yourself back to class in anger after.

After your final class of the day, Changbin waited for you at the bench near the entrance where you guys had always met up. He beamed with ecstasy once he saw you, but you quickly brushed past him and continued walking completely shunning his existence. His smile progressed into a frown once he realized that you were not in your usual mood.

He ran in front of you and blocked any further movements.

“Y/n, are you okay?” He asked with a concerning expression.

You didn’t say anything and only continued scowling.

“Come on. You know you can tell me anything,” He encouraged.

You of course, continued to be silent for a few more seconds because you honestly couldn’t get anything out due to how enraged you were feeling on the inside.

“You liar!” you slapped his chest with literally no strength at all as your tears escaped at the same time.

“Wait hold up, what did I lie about?” He was in complete confusion.

“I saw it, Changbin. You and her at the garden. How could you let her make a move on you like that.”

His face showed that it wasn’t really clicking with him until he thought more about it.

“Who did I let make a move on me? Minji? I was only helping her, Y/n. Please don’t misunderstand. The class was getting really loud and we needed a quieter place, so I asked the instructor if it would be fine if me and her went somewhere else.”

“So you just let her be all up on you like that? She was clearly hitting on you, Changbin. How do you not see it?” School was no place to be emotional, but here you were, bawling like a little baby at the entrance of the school as Changbin tries to comfort you. You guys definitely weren’t getting weird stares. Nope.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you thought of it like that. Cause I didn’t. I just thought of her as another student that needed help. I’m sorry Y/n, if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t do it on purpose I swear, because in my mind, there’s no one else but you. I know I like to boast all the time but I only do it as a joke because you seem to like it. I would never in a million year think of hurting your feelings. Hundreds of other girls could give me attention or like me, but none of them matters if they’re not you. I only love you, Y/n.”

His words made you immediately stopped sobbing as if your broken heart has been patched up.

“R-really? You mean it?” You pout.

“Of course, silly. I would never think about being with someone else but you. Never.” He leveled your face with his.

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. Just seeing another girl being intimate with you kind of tugged something in me.” you awkwardly chuckled.

“Aww. My baby was jealous. Not going to lie, you’re kind of cute when you’re upset,” He teased you.

“Changbin!” you slapped his shoulder in retaliation.

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

Hyunjin

Between the both of you guys, Hyunjin had always been the one who had the upper hand in almost everything when it came to catching others attention. Anything ranging from looks, to talent, or even intelligence, you can admit he’s got it better than you do.

Going out to public places, you quickly got used to getting stares from other girls or even old Aunties who would comment on how good looking your boyfriend was, and how lucky you were to have him. They weren’t wrong, you were of course very lucky to have someone like Hyunjin who was definitely way too good for you. You didn’t take it to heart very much that other girls have eyes for him the way you do, because he’s made it distinctly known that he only saw you. Jealousy in the relationship was a bigger problem for you than for him at the beginning, because compared to him, you were not as sought after.

The whole duration of your guys relationship, he never had to deal with any actual threat or competition that he could possibly lose you, or that you would find someone else more intriguing than him because he was always accustomed to you having your whole attention toward him whenever he was in the room. So that was why when the opportunity finally present itself, he found himself developing a sort of ill feeling that he wasn’t familiar with. A feeling that left a bitter taste in his mouth, one that turned his vision red when he wasn’t a violent person in the first place.

You had been talking about this friend all week, reminiscing the past to Hyunjin about all the crazy things you and this friend did back in the days. Hyunjin being the amazing boyfriend he usually is, was very supportive of course. You haven’t seen this friend in years ever since his family moved away to another city.

He called you a few days ago to let you know he’ll be back in Seoul, visiting for a few days and wanted to catch up. How could you let this chance pass by. The person that was there for you when you had your darker days, the person that ran miles through the rain when you needed him, there’s no way you would say no.

Hyunjin was more than happy to accompany you to the Mall although you did assure him he didn’t have to, as you didn’t want to bother him if he had plans, but he was persistent he wanted to meet your friend and get to know one another. Since he agreed to everything, you thought might as well introduce them to each other.

But Hyunjin’s cheerful and optimistic aura rapidly changed into a stinging one when your friend ran up to you with a hug, and oh boy did your friend looked nothing like Hyunjin had drew in his head. In his head, he was a she. The person that was arms deep within your hug didn’t have long flowing hair, nor did he looked very feminine like he had pictured. He was growing some kind of hatred for this stranger that he barely even knew, and it was only solidified more when you would get so engaged in conversation with your friend, you would forget for a moment Hyunjin was even there.

The way you laughed at his jokes mirrored how you would exactly react to Hyunjin’s whenever he said something funny. He hated how your friend would sometimes pull you so close to him and you would just go along with it. Hyunjin literally felt invisible. This friend of yours managed to shrink you and Hyunjin’s year long relationship into what felt like you both only knew each other for weeks. Hyunjin could tell just by his body languages and actions that this friend knew you for years. And then he just felt like nothing. Hyunjin was nothing compared to this friend of yours, and he was mad at himself, mad at you, mad at him, mad at everything.

He was so tangled up in his own train of thoughts that he hadn’t even realized you have been trying to call him.

“Hyunjin!” you pinched his arm not too hard.

“Oh I’m sorry, what.”

“Do you want ice cream?” You asked him.

“I’m good no thank you,” He answered completely uninterested.

“But you love ice cream, Hyunjin. Are you sure?” you tried to get a confirmation just one last time.

“Yes, I am sure.” He rolled his eyes as if he’s being pestered by an annoying bug. It wasn’t what he said but it was the way he said it. He was giving you attitude and you didn’t like it at all.

“Okay geez, just a no would’ve done.” you frowned.

Hyunjin has his days, but he’s usually self composed when it came to your friends. He had always been nice and pretty kind if someone was close to you since you were his girlfriend, but he was different today. He was hushed and soundless, not at all like the Hyunjin you knew.

“What flavor would you like, Y/n?” Sanghyun, your friend asked.

“Mhmm. Any flavor will do.”

“I’ll get mint for the both of us then, if that’s fine with you.” Sanghyun looked for an answer in your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded.

You were not too cool with the flavor but you haven’t seen your friend in a while and it wouldn’t hurt to just take it this one time, for him. It didn’t bother you too much that he might’ve forgotten. It’s been a while.

Hyunjin was beyond confusion. For as long as he knew you, you hated mint. Absolutely refused to eat it whenever he took you out, and now all of a sudden you’re fine with it? For him?

“But I thought you hate mint. So what? You suddenly like it now because he suggested it?” Hyunjin fired, as if he was ridiculing you.

For a second you thought you forgot to clean your ears, because you refuse to acknowledge that Hyunjin was actually trying to cause a scene right now, in the mall, with your friend by your side, in front of all these people.

“What’s up with you today, Hyunjin. Giving me an attitude when I asked a simple question and now this? If you have a problem, you can tell me. No need to make a scene,” you scolded him, utterly embarrassed by your boyfriend’s action.

Sanghyun looked terrified down to his toes just glaring you guys down.

“Fine, I’ll tell you what my problem is.” And without your consent, Hyunjin somehow managed to drag you all the way to the parking lot against your protest.

“Let go, Hyunjin!” you threw his hold off of you.

“What the hell is your problem? You made me look like an absolutely fool back there. How do you think Sanghyun feels now, seeing how much of an asshat my boyfriend is acting after all those stories I told him about how you’re the most kind and caring person ever,” you raised your voice, too irritated at this point to even care if anyone heard you.

“Well, I probably wouldn’t be acting like this in the first place if you had made it clearer that your friend was a freaking guy.”

“Really, Hyunjin. Is this what it’s about? That my friend is a guy? That’s it? I’m sorry but, if you’re going to act childish and jealous because you can’t handle me being friends with the opposite gender, then that’s your problem. Not mine. Besides, we don’t even like each other like that. He was one of my only friend back when I had nobody. He was there for me when no one else was. I don’t see anything else in him but the same guy back then who was like a best friend to me.”

You had hope you knocked some sense into him. Your tone turning from furious to more serious.

“I don’t care if he was your friend from back then or whatever. You have me now. I don’t like the way he looks at you, or act around you. I never act like that around any other females.”

You were this close. This close to just straight punching him and running him over with his own car. The person you were talking to right now and yesterday was the difference between day and night. You think that might’ve been the shittiest thing Hyunjin has ever said since you’ve known him and you were denying it yourself that it came out of his mouth.

“Oh go cry me a river, Hyunjin! When I was telling you the details of my past friendship before you even knew the gender, you were rooting for me, but now that you know it’s a guy you’re all of a sudden acting like a little bitch? Why does it matter whether it’s a guy or a girl?” You questioned his integrity, but most of all, you were just in disbelief.

“Fine, whatever. Suit yourself.” He sarcastically threw his hands up in the air in defeat and drove away without final words from you. Unfuckingbelievable. He was like a little child throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get what he wanted.

You didn’t want to leave Sanghyun hanging, but if you were to be frank, Hyunjin totally killed all the good vibes within you and left you with no motivation or energy to do anything else. You made way back to the ice cream court and simply apologized to Sanghyun on yours and Hyunjin’s behalf. He didn’t mind too much and only wished you luck on the relationship. It was a bummer that he was leaving tomorrow already and the only day he was free to spend it with you, your man child “boyfriend” had to go and ruin it all.

When you entered the lonely atmosphere of your hollowed apartment, Hyunjin’s well being did crossed your mind because he was notorious for being quite stupid, always acting on his feelings whenever he was upset. You never had to worry too much before though because it was only on rare occasions where his head would be so far up his ass, but you knew this time was one of those occasion. But you were mad at him as well. Never in a million years could you picture him ever saying those nasty things.

You settled down on the couch and eventually put your mind and body to rest. Today’s been a long day and you needed that nap more than anything. You had called Jeongin and Chan to notify them of what happened and to keep an eye out for Hyunjin in case, before closing your eyes and seeing black.

When you were finally conscious enough, the only thing that made its existence clear, was the sound of traffic outside your window. You may have overslept just a tiny bit. Rubbing your eyes to get a better view of your surroundings, you felt a weight on you as you struggled to get up. Turning towards your left, you found Hyunjin completely knocked out and slouched against you with his head on your shoulder and his arms around your waist. Right, Hyunjin had a spare key to your apartment.

He looked like an absolute angel that fell from heaven, almost as great as the day he conquered your heart. He was adorable and quite resembles a puppy when he’s not spurting all those hateful words. You needed to use the restroom bad so you made an effort to untangle him off of you but just as you were about to get up, a strong force wrapped you back down.

“Ahhh! I thought you were asleep.” you faced him with bulging eyes.

“I was.” He calmly replied, his arms still around you.

“Bummer. I like it when you’re peaceful and not so angry. You are cuter that way,” you purposely jabbed.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I wasn’t thinking at the moment and just acted on emotions. I’m really sorry y/n. I was angry when I drove off but when I got home, I just kept thinking and thinking and the more I thought, the stupider I realize I was... please forgive me.” he pouted and rested his head on your shoulder.

“Oh you big baby. Don’t try to bribe me with your cuteness now. You made Sanghyun scare of you and today was his only free day to catch up,” you scolded him as you pinched his cheeks.

“I won’t ever do that again, I swear. I’ll be better next time. I was just... jealous when I saw another guy acting close to you. It makes me scare that I’m going to lose you. I know I was wrong. But I just want you to know I’m sorry.” He said it softly but also with shame.

“Oh dear. There’s nobody else I love more than you. If anything, I should be the one scared to lose you.”

“I only love you, y/n.” He looked into your eyes and did that little smile that always makes your heart weak. The one where his dimples would pop out.

“I love you too, Hyunjin. Now let me go, I need to pee.”

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SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH HYUNJIN’S. anyways.

Part 2 for the remaining members coming soon

778 notes · View notes

thatbangtanbloom · 3 years

Text

like cat and mouse | 1

/gif is not mine

like cat and mouse | bts

teaser | 1

categories: suspense, (possibly angst), smut!

pairings: ot7 x reader

genre: mafia!bts, mafia!reader

warnings: curse word, guns mentioned, jimin gets a blow job,hoseok vv skeptical of reader!! , dirty talk, mention of crime

[seeing the warm response, here is the first chapter!]

- - - - - -

From the outset of your meeting, something had told them that you were different. Perhaps it was the sway of your hips as you sauntered over to the boldest of them and cleared your throat as though you belonged there. Or it could have been your first meeting with the third oldest that sent them all trembling in their knees.

You had come across Park Jimin first. He was well renown for his negotiation strategies and his excellence in persuasion. It was a rarity that they did not show up together, but you found yourself more privy to taking chances than questioning why the blonde man had come alone.

“You must be Park Jimin,” You greet him with a hand resting on the small of his back. Your voice is anything but soft and demure, but it has Jimin turning on his heels to face you with amusement. It was rare that women approached him and dared to call him by his first name in a tone that sounded as demanding as yours did.

Jimin’s brow raises at you as he tries to recognize you. He knows better than to assume you have come with someone - no one would dare let their woman come within fifteen feet of the Seven’s prized Casanova. Too often, he had also been approached by opportunists eager to seek their teeth into him, but something about your poise had him thinking differently. Were you someone who was different? “That is me.. and who might you be?”

“You can find out if you keep me interested.” You remark simply as you glance over the men who have long stopped talking to focus on the dynamic between Jimin and you. “I’ve heard about you and I wanted to see for myself if the rumors are true.”

“And if they are?” Jimin replies as he unbuttons the bottom button of his blazer to tuck his right hand into his pocket. Your confidence is far too high for a rookie, yet your boldness is too much for a seasoned veteran. He’s certain he’s never seen your face here before, so why was he still giving you the time of day?

You scoff at his words, “I’d say that you’re worthy of a pursuit then.” You purposely bump your shoulder with his when you pass by, slipping a piece of paper into his palm as you leave just as quickly as you came.

Your lasting impression did not take much for Jimin to join you in the piano room on the second floor fifteen minutes later. He was well aware of the alarming degree of your presence; how he did not have the slightest clue as to who you are and other guests at the party remarking you as the daughter of so-and-so, but he could not draw up an image that could make up for the fraction of your presence. God, it only made him want you ten times more.

“You’re the predictable one, huh?” You remark when you hear the mahogany door close. Leather shoes cross the floor when you are greed by a kneeling Jimin accompanied with a smirk on his face. “I see you read my note.”

Jimin scoffs, “I think it was rather bold of you to tell me your plans.” It had been bold to tell Jimin that you anticipated him taking you home that night. “You know who I am. Do you think I am that foolish to take you back to the place where my brothers and I live?”

Brothers. The smile on your face only spreads. They really did believe that fictitious lie that everyone said they did. “No. If I did, I would have targeted the eldest one. He’s much more fun to play with.” You say as you look up from over your book to meet the hardening look of Jimin. Competition must have been ingrained in them. “I don’t like to blindside people. It’s much more fun to see how you’ll stop me. It would keep both of us guessing. Don’t you think?”

“Mmmm.” Jimin remarks as he sits on the coffee table in front of you. His eyes meticulously run over your clothes: he takes in the curve of your hips, the way the velvet appears to hug you in all the right places, but something feels off. He notices no bulge of a knife or the sliver of a gun. “You came here unarmed?”

You close the book and place it to the side, “If I wanted to kill someone, I would do it with my hands. That’s how I do most things. I like things messy.”

“Fuck,” Jimin rasps as he brings his hand to his mouth. He’s far more invested in the double entendre you’ve elicited from him. It was a rule that the Seven held that they would not bring anyone, under absolutely no circumstances, to their shared home. That was the Sanctuary. That was where their plans were made, where their livelihoods lived, and how they were able to escape from their daily life. Yet, there was no rule in him bringing you back to his apartment. Right?

So that was what brought you to where you were now, on your knees with your cheeks hollow full of Jimin’s hard cock in your mouth. His pants are bunched at his ankles as he guides his hand on the back of your head with an anything but soothing touch. He’s a demanding lover, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty choking on my cock like this. Wanna cum all over your pretty tits and make you mine over and over again…” Jimin’s voice has dropped another octave the second his cock hits the back of your throat. He’s left perplexed as your tongue grazes over the underside of his cock and he barely needs to guide you to his own pleasure.

Just who the hell were you?

He’s nearly gone as his hips bucking into your mouth with every thrust of his hips. His cock throbs inside of your mouth, wanting to feel all of you in every way possible. His praise doesn’t stop, “Can’t wait to feel what your tight pussy is like… you’re already being a good girl taking my cock like this. Imagine how nice it’ll feel with my thick cock in your wet cunt, begging for more of me like the good slut you are.” His words do have an effect on you, especially evident with your arousal that has long begun to peek from your thighs onto your Givenchy dress to leave love stains. Jimin’s experienced enough to know what good sex feels like, and somehow, you were beyond his expectations. It takes everything in him to not cum in your mouth immediately - especially with your dress sliding down your shoulder to show the curve of your breast or hot he spots your fingers creeping between your thighs as you tease your clit from how pretty he sounded.

“Wanna cum inside of you,” Jimin grunts as another thrill of pleasure runs through him at the thought. His chest rises and falls in anticipation as he feels the familiar knot in his stomach further entangle itself from your ministrations. You long have opted to choke on his cock, somehow being correct in your assumption that it boosted his ego. “Fuck- fuck-fuck,” He closes his eyes tightly, “Soojin-ah, please.”

You almost don’t catch your alias that leaves his lips, but you pull away with a lewd pop. “Ah? Is Park Jimin so fucked out that he can’t even speak? Mmm? Did I suck your cock that good where you can’t talk?” You ask as your nail traces along his jawline. He’s not used to someone speaking to him so lewdly, but that only spurs the leaking precut from his cock to grow. You’re so fucking hot that he can’t even stand it. “Use your words.”

“Make me.” He bites back before gripping you by your hips in one swift motion and sinking you down onto his cock. The sudden stretch leads you caught off guard, but you no longer feel empty when Jimin begins to thrust his hips deeper into your wet sex. Your hips soon match his own cadence, rising and falling like a piano crescendo as you ride his cock. “Shit. Who taught you to ride like this? You’re such a good slut and all for me, huh?”

Ah. All for him. You almost laugh. Clearly he had a possession kink. “Mmm,” You moan in pleasure as he soon gives your neglected clit attention. His fingers draw figure eight’s around the sensitive gem, making you bend into him as his hips rhythmically meet your g-spot over and over again. “Jimin, you’re fucking me so good…”

“I know baby,” He rasps before slapping your ass for added stimulation. You hate how easy it is for him to conjure up the tightness in your stomach, your own pussy aching for more from how sexy he looks: his lips stained with your lipstick, the tie loosely dangling from his neck as his shirt is unbuttoned all the way with red marks reminiscent of the bites you left on him. You, too, had a preference for leaving your mark on people. To add on to that, his tattoos are like hidden jewels kissing his skin. He’s beautiful. “Your pussy’s so fucking good that I might just keep coming back to you,” He grunts as he bottoms out inside of you and you’re filled to the hilt. It’s more than enough for you to squeeze him closer by his shoulder, sighing as you roll your hips against his own for the added friction.

“I’m close, Jimin-“ You rasp when he stills inside of you. The ache in you returns, wanting more of his hard thrusts. “Fuck me harder… I’m going to cum-“

Jimin moans, “Me too, beautiful.” He groans as he pistons his hips deeper into your sex. The sound of skin clapping against skin fills the room, soon accompanied by your own moans and Jimin’s own of pleasure. ��You’re so fucking tight for me, yeah? Only I can fuck you like this.” He bites into the crevice of your shoulder when he bottoms out inside of you one last time. “Fuck, I’m going to cum-“

He blossoms inside of you without another word, grunting in pleasure as his fingers rub against your own clit more furiously to drag you down to your own high. It only takes one, two, three more strokes before you’re wilting inside of him as his cum fills you to the brink. “J-jimin,” you stammer out as he continues to ride out both of your highs, your dress long torn and bunched around your waist forgotten until he begins to overstimulate you. “P-please-“

“Round 2?” He rasps as his eyes flash mischievously. His cock still inside of you, eager for another round. He’s hungry for you - starving practically despite your previous rendezvous. “You’re so good, baby.” He sounds so sure of it, like he can read you like the back of his hand.

You can’t wait to ruin him.

The next morning, Jimin sleeps soundly in bed. He does not notice the way you slip out of bed undetected and make your way towards his drawers. You noticed in the heat to the night the camera that seemed to follow your every move and only wave to it sweetly. You would have to dig through his belongings later. Now, you would be good and properly feed yourself. And at least Jimin. It was his kitchen, after all.

You pad your way downstairs, focused on satiating the growl in your stomach rather than sleeping Jimin. You would think that he would have awoken the second you turned, but he must have been exhausted beyond repair. He had been rather generous….

“Who the hell are you?” A voice calls out to you and you instantly turn around to be faced with Three of Seven. He looks at you, perplexed. It was unlike Jimin to let his one-night stands stay the night, let alone cook in his kitchen and play house. The younger had often been one to sleep in, but this state of him not answering forced the elder to come visit.

“Jung Hoseok.” You say in an almost robotic tone and smile as you turn off the stove. He watches your every move like a trained soldier - it is quite literally what he is as he moves across the island to approach you. “You’re Three, right?” You ask, smirking to yourself in pure amusement as his face contorts in an unreadable expression.

So you weren’t a dumb one-night stand.

In an imperceptible flash, Hoseok makes his way towards you to pin you against the ground. Two long strides across the kitchen and a swipe across the floor has him knocking you to the ground. Never one to go down without a fight, you grip the fabric of his shirt to pull him down with you before elbowing him in the gut just as quickly as he has made you crumble. He groans from the sudden impact, but doesn’t let up as he pins your hands above your head and sinks his own hips onto yours to stifle your movements.

“Who the hell are you?” He repeats, seeing that he has you trapped.

Nevertheless, you muster all the energy from your lower half of your body to roll on top of him and pin his arms above your own. “Someone you should be worried about.”

A third voice cuts in, presumbly the man you slept with last night from the way he saunters downstairs. “What is going on here?” Jimin asks with a lazy rub of his eye. He is surprised to see you entangled with Hoseok - the older man supplanted under you, much like Jimin was the night before, but under very different circumstances. “Yah… Soojin-ah,” You almost forget to respond to your falsehood, but your head snaps up to bat your lashes at Jimin. “Ah. Did you have fun with hyung?”

“Why the fuck didn’t you answer your phone?” Hoseok asks from below you. He grips his side, still surprised at the swiftness of your move and the blunt force of your actions. Who trained you?

“I was asleep.” Jimin replies simply before sniffing the air. “You made pancakes?” He looks a bit disheveled, but ever the gentleman, extends his hand out to pull you off of Hoseok and into his arm lazily. “They’re not poisoned, right?”

“I’ll eat them all and leave you to starve if that is the invitation that you are extending to me.” You remark with a laugh escaping from Jimin.

Jimin is unfazed by your words. He’s only enthralled by your remarks. He’s already been inside of you. He’s confident you wouldn’t give him up so easily. “She’s got a cute sense of humor, doesn’t she, hyung?”

“You didn’t tell her any of our names.. did you?” Hoseok asks with narrowed brows as he brushes himself off and leans against the island. He’s in slight pain, but it’s not as worse as it could have been. You could have easily broken his ribs but opted for minute soreness. He would overcome it.

Jimin shakes his head, “I’m not stupid. She randomly knew mine.” Jimin inspects you for a moment as his brows furrow. “Come to think of it.. you haven’t told me how you knew of me. You don’t seem like a newbie, but you haven’t been well enough for me to know who you are.” He directs his words to you, but there seems to be more hints of curiosity rather than animosity. It’s reassuring. “She seems dangerous, hyung. I like it.”

Rolling your eyes, you unwrap Jimin’s arm from your waist to return to your pancakes and sigh. “Jung Hoseok, would you also like one?”

“She could be an assassin and you just let her walk right on in.” Hoseok says, less amused that the younger man has thought with his nether regions rather than his brain. “What if she killed you in your sleep?”

“But she didn’t.” Jimin remarks as he sits down at the bar stool to admire your back.

Deciding to defend your reputation, “That’s much too easy. If I wanted to kill him or you, I would let you know ahead of time. I don’t like surprises.” You say simply as you flip the pancake onto a plate and set it down. “You’ve got to be aware. It’s not what you see that matters, it’s what you don’t.” You reply before cutting into the pancake to reveal the chocolate chips embedded in them. You cut a sizable piece from each pancake to demonstrate that the pancakes were, in fact, not poisoned and take a bite bite. “See?”

“Whoa,” Jimin compliments as you slide the plate in front of him and begins to eat them. He is still cautious to take a bite, but he is only met with the chocolate melting in his mouth. It almost taste as good as you do. Almost. “This is delicious! Hyung, try some.”

Hoseok eyes you suspiciously before taking a section from your own plate and bites into it. He, too, is only met with chocolate-y goodness and hums. “I’m watching you.”

“Please do.” You remark fondly, only for Jimin to send you a pout of disapproval. He was a paradox of a man, you realize. He’s adorable one minute yet meticulous the next. It keeps you interested. You take a nibble on your pancake as you eat while waiting for the two of them to speak - talk - say anything about their plans are, but both of them only opt to watch you.

While Hoseok is more reserved, he can not fight the curiosity that looms over him from your presence. It was rare that Jimin ever let someone stay in his place, especially over night with the king of work that they did. It was obvious enough that you were someone to not be trifled with, but what the hell was your deal? “Who do you work for?” He asks bluntly as wiping the corner of his mouth.

“I work for myself.” You state with a shrug of your shoulders. Jimin only smirks at your response and nods. He had gathered that much. You gave him far too much cheek to be tied down to any one organization, but you did have a lot of balls to come home with him.

Jimin clears his throat before grabbing a cup of milk, “She’s a tough cookie, hyung. She didn’t tell me much about her. Think I’m going to have to investigate myself.” He chirps with a small smirk. He soon begins cutting into his sausage and eggs with a wide smile. “I can’t say I don’t enjoy the chase though. She’s worth chasing after.”

“Stop thinking with your dick and use your brains,” Hoseok murmurs despite scarfing down another pancake. “Look, whoever you are…. Don’t think because you’re here that we won’t stop watching you. We deal wit people like you all the time. You grow comfortable. You get careless. You stop following the rules and make mistakes. If you do happen to have some hidden agenda, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your brain, myself.”

You merely blink at his words before finishing your breakfast. “Wow. You really know how to get me going, don’t you, Hoseok-ah?” You wink as his expression hardens from how informally you call him. You fold your arms behind your back as you take a step forward to him. “You must be so confused about how this is going to work, so let me tell you.”

Jimin leans forward at your threat. It’s caught his interest, especially since he has yet to figure you out.

“I don’t care if you think you’re going to end me. If you do, I’d think you’re more talented than I assumed.” You remark as your eyes never look away from his. “You’re no match for me. If I had an agenda, I would tell you what it is.. but I’m innocent.” You poke his chest for good measure and smiles. “After all, there’s only one of me and seven of you, right? Wouldn’t that be a death wish for me to do something like that?”

Hoseok scoffs, “You could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” He gives you a once over. “I don’t take kindly to fakes. So if you have a hidden agenda, I’ll preface by telling you to lose it. You’re too pretty to be getting yourself entangled with people like us. Didn’t they tell you that when you mess with fire, you might just get burnt?”

You would be offended if you didn’t acknowledge he didn’t have the slightest clue about who you were. “There have been foxes who outsmarts wolves.” You quip as your eyes scan over his features. It’s honestly a shame how handsome he is when you can only think of your master plan - your own ambitions to take the single thing they hold most dear to them away. “But if you threaten me with fire, let’s just say I won’t be the only one getting burned.”

This leaves both of the men equally speechless from your words. A fox? The two of them share a glance, as though exchanging an unspoken word in acknowledgement. Crafty.

Those were the days where they realized you had left them all of the clues: you had evidently left traces of your own plans from the beginning. It long leaves Jungkook more agitated while tapping his fingers against the leather seat with Yoongi at his side. How the hell had they had missed that?

“Mr. Jeon, Mr. Min, there’s a message left for you.” One of their servants enters the room. She can sense the tension that has long filled the room since you escaped from them two weeks ago.

You didn’t even know that it would end like that, did you? You know I had to leave because I was a bit too attached, huh? I must say. I am touched that you went through all of that hard work to try to find me… but I think you could work much harder.

You say you’re wolves, right? I’ll throw you a bone then. You can find me where kings perished, where heads will roll, where a tour is named after me.

Catch me if you can. - YN

- - - - - - -

Where do you think YN is? How do you think about their first meeting? What do you think about YN's style of playing with their heads? Don't be a silent reader!

There will be more of the other members in the upcoming chapter and how YN gets closer to them!

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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years

Text

Face the Music

Prompts: Karaoke

Word Count: 5,572

Characters: Cole, Kai, and Jay

Timeline: Between seasons 9 and 10

Trigger Warnings: Brief Mentions of Toxic Parent and Eating Disorder

Summary: If you ask Cole, there are some things in life better left forgotten. Especially embarrassing experiences that you would prefer not to talk about. They certainly shouldn’t be used as blackmail or as entertainment for others, and everyone should just learn to move on. Although maybe his friends aren’t the only ones that need to move on.

Link to read on Fanfiction.Net:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13904278/1/Face-the-Music

Cole burst onto the deck of the Bounty, swinging the door shut behind him. Zane looked up from the control panel, looking startled. “Cole?”

“Zane!” Cole ran over to him, gasping for breath. “Quick, what’s Kai’s cell phone password?”

Zane pulled back, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“Don’t play coy with me, I know you have the passwords for everything programmed into your database! Now hurry, what is it!”

“I never denied that I did, but why would I tell you? That’s confidential information.” Glancing down at the cell phone, he asked, “Does Kai know you have his phone, Cole?”

“Uh… yeah, if it helps you sleep at night.”

Zane crossed his arms. “Cole…”

“Come on, Zane, help a friend out! It’s important!” “Cole, that is not my secret to tell. Unless it is an emergency, you don’t need to know.”

“But it is an emergency!”

“Oh really? Who’s in danger?”

“My pride,” he snapped. “C’mon, Zane, please, what do you want? I’ll do your dishes for a month! Or- or, uh, take patrol duties for the next three weeks. Hey, hey, what about cooking, you like that, right? I’ll buy you some new appliances!”

“Cole, you cannot bribe me-”

“Hey guuuuys,” Kai larked, popping his head through the door and sliding over to Cole. Before he could even react, the master of fire was plucking the phone out of his hands. “I’ll take that, thanks.”

“Give it back!”

“It’s my phone!”

“I didn’t give you permission to take that video!”

Kai batted his eyes innocently. “What video?”

Cole lunged for him. “I will kill you, spike head-”

“Gotta catch me first,” Kai shrilled, neatly ducking his arm and dashing back belowdeck, laughing maniacally.

“Thanks a lot, Zane. Who knows what he’ll do with that now?”

“I don’t understand. What is going on?”

Cole sighed slowly. “He’s got… a video. I need it to be deleted.”

“What kind of video?”

“Seriously Zane? Can’t you take a hint? I obviously don’t want to tell you.”

Zane just stared at him expectantly.

Cole rubbed his face in his hands. I can’t believe I’m doing this. “He still has the video from… from Laughy’s. With the Sons of Garmadon.”

Zane is smiling now, crossing his arms. “I don’t know why you are embarrassed to tell me, Cole. I was there, remember? I saw you sing-”

“Okay, okay, Zane, I get it! Just stop talking about it!”

“I don’t see why talking about it would be an issue-”

Cole lunged forward, pressing a hand over his mouth. “You don’t understand,” he hissed under his breath. “They’re everywhere. They’re obsessed with that video, and they’ve been dangling it over my head ever since we returned from the First Realm. They’re trying to blackmail me!”

“They?”

“Oh yeah, it’s not just Kai- Jay’s in on it too, the jerk. You think you know who your best friend is.”

“Cole, I think you’re overreacting, what could they possibly do with it? Everyone here already saw you sing, it’s fine.”

“You really think Lloyd, Nya and Pix have spared a second thought to think about me after everything they had going on here? I was hoping they had forgotten about it by now, but if Jay and Kai have their way-”

“I’m not going to help you steal Kai’s phone, Cole. If you need me for anything actually important, let me know.”

“This is important,” Cole yelled after him, but Zane was already gone.

Fine, he huffed. If no one is going to help me, I’ll do it myself.

---

“Hey Cole? Kai and Lloyd want me to play Fist-to-Face 3 with them, will you take patrol duty for me tonight?”

“Yeah?” Cole reclined in the kitchen chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “And why would I do that?”

“Oh, I dunno… perhaps because you wouldn’t want a certain… video to accidentally leak…” Jay waggled his phone teasingly in the air.

Cole stood up sharply. “You wouldn’t.”

“I dunno… would I? I guess we’ll find out.”

“Fine, fine, I’m going, I’m going,” Cole grumbled. “Want anything while I’m out?” “We’re almost out of Doritos. And can you get the strawberry Fanta?”

“Are you a heathen? Who drinks the strawberry?”

“It’s not for you,” Jay snapped. “And for your information, it tastes very nice.”

“Whatever. You at least gonna pay me for this, bozo?”

Jay slapped a twenty into his hand. “This is all I got on me. Buy yourself a little somethin’ with the change.”

Cole mock bowed. “Whatever you say, master.”

“Ah, come on, I’m not cruel, come join us when you get back.” As Cole walked out the door, he called after him, “I’ll save you some Bagel Bites!”

Cole rolled his eyes. He didn’t know how he got into situations like this.

He was really starting to hate that stupid video.

---

By the end of the week, which had been filled with similar scenarios, Cole had had it. I’m not going to take this slander anymore! They can’t just push me around like this, I’m the master of earth!

The monastery was buzzing with the chatter of his friends on the hot afternoon. They were all wearing swimsuits, and Lloyd opened the door, leaning out lazily as a wave of hot air wafted into the cool monastery.

“Stop standing there with the door open, nitwit, you’re letting all the hot air in,” Kai snapped, shoving him out the door, nearly sending him to the floor, before Zane caught him by the wrist with his usual lightning reflexes.

“Kai, there is no need to get physical.”

“Can it, Zane, I’m just playing around, right bud?” Kai slung his arm around Lloyd’s shoulder, ruffling his hair.

Lloyd shot him a glare. “Get off of me, you lump, I’m melting here. Are we going swimming or not?”

“Ouch, looks like someone skipped his coffee today. What’s wrong, baby boy, did I hurt your feewings?”

“You wanna get punched? ‘Cause I will not hesitate to punch you.”

“You wanna throw hands with me, bro? I’d prefer not to have a squished pancake as a brother, but if you say so.”

“As soon as I cool down a bit, you are toast.”

“You cool it, mister. Are you forgetting everything amazing I’ve ever done for you?”

“Don’t mind him,” Nya called to Kai, coming over to elbow Lloyd from the other side. “He gets grumpy when he’s hot.”

“I hate you both.”

Zane sighed. “I swear, it’s like the heat is melting their brains.”

Nya shrugged. “They must have like, low heat tolerance or something. Don’t ask me why they always get so loopy like this.”

“Hey, it’s like 100 degrees, don’t blame me if I’m a little uncomfortable!” Lloyd snapped, his words slurring slightly.

“Yeah, bud, even I think you’re starting to get to be a little much now. Come on, let’s get you in the water.”

As the team shuffled out the door, Jay turned back to face him. “Hey, Cole, aren’t you coming swimming with us?”

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute, just give me a sec.”

Jay shrugged, and Cole waited for a moment, until he heard the door click.

Finally! I thought they’d never leave.

Hurrying down the hallway, he popped his head into the bathroom, where Kai and Jay had just thrown their clothes into a pile on the floor when they had changed. Getting on his knees, he dug through it and pulled out Jay’s shorts, extracting his cell from it. Pulling a slip of paper out from his pocket, he quickly typed the numbers in, and…

The phone unlocked.

Cole broke into a grin, praising Jay’s inability to remember passwords and always writing them down somewhere where a very desperate earth ninja could find them.

He opened the camera app and deleted the video.

There. Halfway done.

Kai’s phone wasn’t in his pocket, so he snuck over to his room and found it charging on the nightstand. Biting his lip, he pulled out his phone and glanced at the camera footage he had captured the previous night.

It showed a bird’s eye view of the living room, and Kai was sitting on the couch, watching TV. As he reached for his phone, Cole zoomed in on the device and watched carefully as he typed in the code.

Okay. Cole repeated the same code on Kai’s phone.

Incorrect Passcode.

Cole felt panic flare inside him. What were the chances that Kai had changed his password in the one night since he’d filmed this?

“It didn’t work because I have one of those fingerprint ones, too.”

Cole whips around to see Kai standing in the doorway, Jay hovering behind him. “Jay told me you were lingering, and I just got a feeling, y’know? That you were up to something.”

Cole huffed, tossing him the phone. “Why won’t you just delete it, Kai? This has gone on for long enough.”

“I like the video, Cole. It puts a smile on my face on the… hard days.”

“Oh, spare me the pity card. I know plenty well that you have more than enough other ways to keep yourself entertained.”

“What about Jay?” Kai grabbed the lightning ninja by the shoulders, shaking him gently. “Think of your friend, Cole. He has no sense of entertainment, he needs something to keep him going.”

“Excuse me-”

“Oh please,” Cole snorted. “Stick Jay on Youtube and he’ll be entertained for hours. He gets distracted way too easily.”

“Oh come on, Cole, this is way better than Jay’s stupid cat videos-”

“I do not watch cat videos!”

“Don’t lie to me, zaptrap, you’re lame.”

“Dude, who’s side are you on?”

“Look guys, I don’t have time for this. Just delete the video, and we can be done with this whole thing.”

“No, that’s not how this is going to work. You’re going to go outside with the others, and forget this whole thing ever happened. Otherwise, this little video might end up on the internet.”

“What?” Cole shrieked. “You can’t do that, dude, it’s an invasion of my privacy!”

“Last time I checked, this was a video of Rocky Dangerbuff, not you. Is it you in this video, Cole?”

Cole felt his face heat as he scowled at them, and Kai and Jay burst into laughter.

Kai slapped a hand on his back. “If it makes you feel any better, it wouldn’t have worked anyway. You really think we’re dumb enough to keep the only copies of the video on our phones? You’d be searching for hours to delete all traces of it.”

Cole balked at him. “Seriously? How many copies did you make?”

Jay grinned. “You forgot this wasn’t a solo operation, dirtclod. I’m the tech guy around here. There’s no way you’ll be able to override my programming.”

Cole groaned, putting his face in his hands. “I hate you guys.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?” Kai laughed. “C’mon, dude, it’s hot, let’s go swim.” Cole reluctantly followed them out the door, grumbling.

“This won’t go on forever, you guys. Sooner or later, I’m gonna find a way to stop you.”

Kai laughed. “We’ll see about that, Cole, we’ll see.”

---

“Are you sure this is really something I wanna be getting involved in?” The nindroid asked, her glowing green eyes scanning the monitor screen.

“It’ll be fine, Pix, I promise. They might be a little annoyed at first, but within a couple days, they’ll have completely moved on to something else to make fun of. All you have to do is get rid of one measly video for me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it that, exactly. Jay went pretty deep with this program. But I think I’ve located the source material.”

“And?” Cole asked, placing his hands on the table and leaning forward. “Does that mean you can delete all the data?”

“Yes. Every known record of it developed into the Bounty’s database will be erased.”

“Do it, quick!”

Pixal turned to the computer again, and Cole held his breath as her fingers flew over the keys for a moment. Then, she pulled back.

“Is it done? Did you do it?”

“Yes. It’s gone.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Cole sighed, slouching against the wall. “I’m so glad that’s finally over. Pix, you’re a lifesaver.”

A small smile played on her lips. “I do what I can.”

“Well, you’ve just saved me a lot of trouble. I owe ya one.”

“We’ll see. Anyways, if we’re done here, I’m going to go help Zane work on those hull repairs to the Bounty.”

“Thanks, Pix.”

When he walked down to the kitchen for dinner that night, for the first time in weeks he didn’t feel a constant dread hanging over his head.

---

The relief didn’t last long.

It was only the evening of the next day when Kai came marching into his room, Jay on his heels. Cole glanced over at them nonchalantly from where he was laying across his bed, reading a Starfarer comic. “Can I help you?”

“You know what you did, stop acting so innocent.”

Cole grinned, stretching. “What can I say, bro, I outplayed you.”

“You could never,” Jay snorted. “You had help!”

“Hey, two against one was never a fair game. Let’s just say I was evening the odds a little bit.”

“Who helped you?” Kai hissed, pointing at him. “Spill, now!” “Sorry fellas, but I’ve sworn to secrecy. You’ll have to find your information elsewhere.”

“It has to be either Nya, Pixal, or Zane,” Jay insisted. “Nya’s the only one with the advanced enough technical skills to be able to override me, and Zane and Pixal are attached to the system, so they can get pretty much anything they want with enough computer skills.”

Kai rolled his eyes. “Great job, sparky, now we've eliminated it down to three out of the four possible suspects. What amazing deduction skills.”

“Hey, I don’t see you doing any better! And it’s actually three out of five. We know it’s not Master Wu, either.”

Both Kai and Cole raised an eyebrow at that.

“Jay, you’re joking. Master Wu. Helped Cole. Delete a blackmail video?”

Cole snorted. “Zaptrap, if Wu ever found out about what was going on, he’d give us a stern lecture, make us meditate for a few hours, then, probably like, stick us on patrol duty for the rest of the night or something.”

“Shut up! Look, it doesn’t matter, alright? If you just tell us who it is, we’ll leave you alone.”

“Fat chance.” Cole got up out of bed and strolled past them, towards the door. “You don’t have anything against me anymore. That blackmail’s not gonna work anymore.”

“Who told you that?”

Cole stopped, turning towards Kai slowly. “What?”

“Who told you we didn’t have access to the video anymore?”

Cole gaped, glancing back and forth between Kai and Jay. “What!? That’s impossible, she-” he bit his lip sharply, cursing himself. “I mean… we deleted all copies of the video. How could you still have it?”

“Aha!” Jay gasped, pointing at him. “Did you hear that? He said she! Which means we’ve narrowed it down to Pixal or Nya!”

Cole ignored him, narrowing his eyes at Kai. “You’re bluffing. You don’t have the video.”

“Oh yeah? Jay, you still have it?”

The blue ninja stuck a hand into his pocket, and, pulling it out, flashed a small blue object between his fingers. Cole looked closer, and felt his stomach drop as he recognized what it was- a flash drive.

“Yep, it’s all in here! Even the most advanced computer codes will do nothing to reach our backup. Looks like you’ve run out of luck again, Cole.”

“Are you kidding me? This is impossible!”

“Come on, Cole- all we want to do is have a little fun with it. Let us keep the video, and we’ll leave you alone.”

“And if I try to get rid of it again?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe it could find its way… onto social media.”

Cole nearly choked. “Kai! You wouldn’t!”

“Keep your nose out of it, and I won’t! C’mon, Jay, we’re done here.”

Cole flopped back down onto his bed. Social media. Kai couldn’t put the video on the internet. It would be all over the city by morning.

He had said he wouldn’t do it if Cole stopped trying to get rid of the video, but Cole didn’t trust that one bit. Now that the idea was planted in his head, Cole was afraid he could do it at any time.

There was no question about it. He had to destroy that flash drive.

---

Kai and Jay were out on the last evening patrol.

This was the time.

Glancing down the hallway to make sure no one was there, he eased open the door to Kai’s room and slipped inside.

He was fairly certain they would’ve kept the flash drive in Kai’s room, specifically to throw him off after he had seen Jay holding it earlier. Also, Kai’s room, while still a mess, wasn’t as bad as Jay’s, so Cole much preferred to search his, anyways.

But it was still going to be more difficult than he had hoped, he realized with a groan as he glanced around the room.

Kai’s bed had a small stack of comic books and magazines strewn across it, with more on the nightstand and even a few on the floor. His laundry had been mostly shoved into a corner, but a few lone shirts and socks had been left randomly. Most of his stuff appeared to be in bins that had been stuffed under the bed and in the corners, but there appeared to be no order to what was in them, just a hag-tag of random junk, save for one crate in the corner which was full to the brim with various weapons, leaving several of them spilling out just asking for a sliced toe in the morning.

The worst was the dresser, though- there were several hair products lined up, even though Cole knew he already had more than enough in the bathroom, a handful of letters, only a couple of them opened, some more comics, a couple empty cups, and enough earrings and other jewelry to last him a lifetime. Cole never understood why he needed so many. Sure, Kai had a ton of piercings, more than the rest of them combined, but Cole swore he had never seen him even wear half of these. Kai had almost as much jewelry, (or, as he liked to call it, “bling”) as he did hair products, which was really saying something.

Sighing, Cole walked over to search through one of the bins that looked like it may have had the techy stuff in it- or at least, the somewhat mechanical stuff- maybe- or, actually, not really, he had absolutely no idea what kind of system Kai had going on here.

Reaching in, he pulled out a tablet, a flashlight, a spare video game controller, a baseball cap, a worn stuffed dragon, a barrette that he was pretty sure belonged to Skylor- Cole blushed at that one, shoving the box away. These things were Kai’s. There could likely be things in here he didn’t want Cole to see.

He wasn’t trying to snoop, though- all he wanted to do was find the flash drive, and leave.

Turning away, Cole began to sift through another bin. A sword- small and uneven, but fairly solid- this one wrapped away with much more care than the others- had a label scribbled on that read “Kai’s first sword.” A photograph, ripped down the middle, the remaining side with a very young Kai hugging an even younger Nya, and a ripped shawl stained with blood that had never come out-

Cole jumped back. Okay, so maybe there was some sort of order to these boxes. And that one was none of his business. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to look any further, anyway. He didn’t doubt that Kai and Nya had been reserved about their lives before meeting them for a reason.

Cole was beginning to feel guilt weight down on his chest already, cold and heavy. He shouldn’t have seen that. He shouldn’t have seen any of this. He was blatantly disrespecting one of his closest friend’s privacy just to delete some stupid video he was embarrassed about.

I should go.

As he sped towards the door, he tripped over something and fell to the ground with a thump. Turning back, he saw it was a book that he had set aside while pulling things out of the bin, having spilled open after he tripped on it, allowing him to see that it wasn’t a book at all, but a photo album.

It was open to a page where Cole had his arm slung around a very grumpy-looking Kai, ruffling his hair, with Jay and Lloyd bent over laughing in the background. It was followed by a bunch of pictures of Kai with the worst bed hair Cole had ever seen- desperately reaching towards the camera, presumably to strangle whoever was snapping photos. Occasionally, one of the other ninja would pop in, holding him back for the photographer, or posing goofily next to the groggy fire ninja.

Cole felt a grin spread over his face. He remembered that day, when Kai had stayed up so late playing video games that he had forgotten about his hair in the morning- and the whole team had been more than eager to take advantage of the one time the fire ninja wasn’t looking so attractive. Kai had threatened to murder them in their sleep, but he had been laughing through it all, too.

That’s the same thing happening here, Cole realized. I’m being a baby about this. They’re just playing around with me. Like I haven’t done the same to them a thousand times.

Cole neatly closed the book and slid it back into a bin, leaving the room with his heart feeling significantly lighter.

It hadn’t been a moment too soon, either, as when he was walking down the hallway, he passed Kai and Jay returning from patrol.

“Everything okay, Cole?” “I’m fine,” he said quickly, too quickly. Luckily, Jay didn’t seem to notice. Kai raised his eyebrow slightly but didn’t press the issue. “Whatcha’ up to?”

“Just heading to bed.”

“Sweet dreams, little glow worm.”

Jay burst into snickers, and Kai grinned wickedly. Cole put his face in his hands, and brushed past them. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t quite as over this as he thought.

---

The next morning, he was awoken by a knock on his bedroom door. Pulling on a tank top, he opened the door to find Zane standing there.

“What’s up?”

The nindroid had an apologetic look on his face, holding up his cell phone. “Have you checked social media yet?”

“No, why?”

“Kai posted your karaoke video.”

“He what?!” Cole shrieked, ripping the phone out of his hand. There, right under Kai’s grinning profile picture, was the video of him singing at Laughy’s.

“That dumbass,” Cole cried, flopping back onto his bed. “Do you know how bad this is? And it’s not just any old social media account, it’s Kai’s. The guy has like, seven million followers on Ninjagram, and almost as many on Chirp and ChatSnap. This will ruin me.”

“I’m sorry, Cole. I didn’t think he would do this.”

“I didn’t either. He promised he wouldn’t, as long as I didn’t try to delete the data!”

“...Didn’t you, though?”

Cole glowered at him. “Well, maybe, technically, I did, but he didn’t catch me! How would he know?”

“Cole, what kind of ninja headquarters would this be if we didn’t have security cameras?”

“Shit! Why would he be checking that? Oh, I’m never going to forgive him for this.”

“Cole, forgive me, but I think you’re overreacting a little. Sure, it’ll probably get a few laughs, but in a couple hours, everyone will have moved onto the next thing. You’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that! I’m not just like some random cat video, I’m a famous ninja! Pretty much everyone knows about me, they’re going to linger on this for a while, trust me.”

“Cole,” Zane said patiently, amusement sparkling in his voice. “I think you’ll survive. Come have some breakfast, that always makes you feel a little better.”

Cole opened his mouth to argue, but Zane was already walking out of the room, so Cole reluctantly followed.

Cole sat down at the table, glaring down into his lap, as Zane slipped him a plate of waffles. He couldn’t even make it all the way through his meal before Kai and Jay inevitably showed up.

“Hey Cole,” Kai smiled, “wonderful morning, isn’t it?”

“You shut your dumb mouth,” Cole snapped. “I don’t even want to look at you.”

“Woah, someone’s feisty.”

“I saw what you did! I can’t believe you did that.”

“I can’t believe you went through my stuff,” Kai barked back, and, despite himself, Cole felt himself flinch. “I was just upholding my side of the agreement.”

“Hey, Cole,” Jay interjected. “Look on the bright side. You’re practically famous! The video already has five million views!”

“I’m already famous, you moron, which, in this situation, makes it even worse.”

Jay blinked, obviously not expecting the hostility of his response. “Cole, chill, it’s just a-”

“Hey guys!” Cole looked up to see Lloyd, Nya, and Pixal walking in. Lloyd grinned as he caught sight of Cole’s plate. “Aww, Zane, you made waffles? Did you buy-”

“Yes, Lloyd, there is plenty of whip cream.”

“I’m just checking! It wouldn’t be the first time I was a few minutes late and some hogs ate all the whip cream.” He shot a glare at Jay, who shrugged nonchalantly.

“Ya snooze, ya lose, green machine. It’s not my fault you have no sense of timing.”

“I have plenty of sense of timing! I’m just…”

“Easily distracted,” Nya chimed in.

“Am not! You were just as distracted as I was!” “You’re the one who showed it to me just as we were trying to go to breakfast!” “Well, you didn’t have to watch it, you could’ve just walked away!”

“How could I not? That one’s a keeper-”

“What are you two on about?” Kai laughed.

“There’s this video blowing up on the internet-” Pixal began.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Cole groaned. He glared at Kai. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve gotten them-” he pointed an accusatory finger at Lloyd and Nya- “laughing at it too.”

“More like them and the rest of Ninjago-”

“Seriously? I can’t with you,” Cole fumed, then promptly spun around and stormed off to his bedroom, locking the door. He flopped onto his bed face first and yelled into his pillow.

He had wanted to laugh this whole thing off. He really had. But how was he expected to be chill when it was all over the internet?

Part of him was just angry with himself, though. Why did he let this rile him up so much? Why was he so upset? Zane was right, it was just another random video, wasn’t it?

Why was it the end of the world if people saw him sing?

---

“Back straighter, Cole.”

Cole flinched at the hit before it came, and the man rolled his eyes. “How do you expect to ever perform well if you can’t even have good posture?”

“I’m trying dad, but I’m tired. We’ve been doing this for hours. Can I go have lunch now?”

“It’s not time for that yet, Cole. First, we need to work on this piece more. Now, start again, from measure twenty-one.

He shuffled through the pages of music, and as he began to sing, all he could imagine was that stern face peering down at him, and all of a sudden his voice was coming out wobbly.

“Tone shape, Cole! You need to keep a consistent tone. Don’t let it sound wavery and messy.”

Cole’s stomach growled loudly, and he flinched at the look on his father’s face. “Please, dad, I’ll be able to concentrate more if I’ve eaten.”

“Fifteen minutes,” his father snapped. “Then right back to work.”

Cole remembered running to the kitchen, worried there wouldn’t be enough time, and eating as much food as he could manage. But it had been too much, his father would be angry with him, what was he going to do-

He had thrown most of it up in the bathroom later that night.

“Cole, you need to try harder. Singing and dancing of just “average” quality aren’t going to cut it when you become part of the next generation of the Royal Blacksmiths.”

“But dad, I don’t want to be a Royal Blacksmith. I don’t even like to sing.”

“Nonsense! This is a family legacy, boy! Do you wish to break such noble tradition just because you weren’t willing to work hard enough?”

“...No, dad.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, back to work.”

---

A knock. “Hey, Cole, can I come in?”

Cole pulled his face out of the pillow, frantic to find it wet. He quickly wiped at his eyes before getting to his feet and trodding to the door, unlocking it and opening it slowly. Kai stood there.

Great.

“What do you want?”

To his surprise, the red ninja flinched. “Can we talk?”

Cole turned and laid across his bed. “What’s there to talk about?”

Kai took a seat on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance from Cole. “Are you… are you actually angry about this? Like, for real? I thought we were joking around.”

Cole didn’t answer, merely grunting into his pillow.

Kai hesitantly scooted a little closer. “I’m sorry. I would’ve stopped if I knew it was making you so uncomfortable. I really wish you had said something about it.”

Cole shrugged. “Well, I didn’t.”

“I’ll take it down, if you want.”

“What?”

“Like, I know it’s too late now,” he said hurriedly, “and that a bunch of people have already seen it, that I’m not fixing my mistake by doing this, but- I can take the video offline now, so at least no one else sees it.”

Cole was about to thank him, when a sudden urge flowed over him. “Y’know what,” he said, sitting up, “No.”

“Huh?” “Don’t bother,” Cole told him. “It’s no big deal. It’s just some stupid video.”

“I thought you were upset.”

“I was. And still am, a little, if I’m being honest. But I’m tired of spending so much time worrying about what others think of me. It’s exhausting, and no fun. It’s time I started thinking about how I view myself.”

“Are you sure? Because I know you hate singing-”

“I don’t, though. I used to like it.”

“What happened?”

Cole shrugged halfheartedly. “Let’s just say… my dad didn’t make the right decisions. Pushed me too hard to be something I wasn’t. Kind of hard to enjoy singing with him barking over my shoulder about it every spare second. Basically sucked all the joy out of it.”

Kai swung his feet back and forth. “That sounds rough. I wonder if my dad would’ve been anything like that, if he… if he’d stayed.”

“You were forced, in a way, too. Forced to grow up too quickly, to raise your sister on your own.”

“Yeah, I guess I was.” He shot him a small grin, although Cole could tell it was forced. “We’re alike in that way.”

“I wish we weren't,” Cole sighed. “No one deserves to go through that.”

Kai laughed dryly. “I learned a long time ago that life’s never been fair.”

“Have you talked to your dad at all, recently?”

“...Not really. I mean, apart from letting him know we were alive and stuff… after the First Realm.”

“Maybe you should reach out to him. Before it’s too late.”

“I know, I know… but I’m not really sure if I want to. I don’t know if that makes me sound like an awful person, but… he was never there for me. They were never there. I know it wasn’t their fault, but… it still stings. Those years, before I came here, were some of the hardest of my life. And I was just a kid! How was I… how was I supposed to…”

“It’s okay,” Cole put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “I’m not sure if I want to forgive my father, either.”

“I wouldn’t blame you. What kind of person treats their kid like that? Judges them so harshly? Oh gosh, why didn’t you say something, Cole, I’m really sorry about that video.”

“I told you, it’s fine. You guys aren’t my father. I know you won’t judge me for my quirks. And, if you want to laugh at me, if the people of Ninjago want to laugh at me, that’s fine. So I’m weird. So I sing stupid songs about glow worms and sing out of key and put on really, really bad disguises. You can tease me all you want, but really, you love me for it, and I’m done doubting that. That’s what true family does.”

Kai smiled sadly at him. “I’m sorry that you didn’t find that out sooner, Cole. You’re an amazing person, and you deserve a family who will treat you like one.”

Cole smiled, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “I already have one.”

#ninjago #ninbingo #my fic #ninjago cole #ninjago kai #not 100% sure how I feel about this one...#it didn't turn out exactly how I planned but that's writing for ya #but while working on another project I accidentally discovered how much I like writing Cole and Kai interactions #so i had to do it at least once for the bingo #hope you enjoyed!#rosie writes

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thedumpsterqueen · 4 years

Text

Standards of Performance, Chapter 4: Misjudgments and Saviors

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

AO3 Link

Sorry it's later than normal! I procrastinated the fuck out of the last half of this chapter and just got it finished. This chapter was originally going to include way more than just the interrogation, but the word count got away from me. Not a ton of Hotch in this chapter, but fear not, you will be fed next week ;) Also dark!Hotch hits different, you cannot change my mind. I hope you enjoy, thank you to everyone who takes the time to follow me, share my fic, and send me such kind messages. It means the world! <3

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 4, Misjudgments and Saviors

Chapter Summary: The team interrogates Ellory Matthews and discovers that just because a killer is easy to catch, doesn't mean he's easy to predict.

Words: 2929

Rating: Explicit, 18+ (REMINDER: I don’t use chapter warnings to avoid spoilers. Assume violence, smut, etc. are possible in all chapters. Check AO3 for more exact tags <3)

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You threw on your work clothes and clambered into the back of the SUV in the dark, silent hotel parking lot. Morgan and Hotch were sitting up front, Morgan looking as exhausted as you felt and clutching a steaming cup of coffee like it was his lifeline, Hotch looking as startlingly unfazed as ever.

You caught a glance of the car’s clock up front between them and shook your head. Two in the morning - not an optimal time to interrogate anyone, much less try to force a confession out of a man desperate to avoid the consequences of a triple murder. If you were lucky, he’d fold quickly and the bulk of the paperwork could be pushed off until tomorrow when you’d all had more than a few hours of sleep.

After a blessedly brief drive (Hotch had a habit of ignoring speed limits, even in non-emergencies) and arriving at the police precinct, the three of you stood in the windowed room looking into where Matthews was being held. A police officer - you forgot his name, but he was one of the same ones who briefed you when you’d first arrived - gave you the rundown of his arrest.

“He was back on campus,” the cop said. “We stopped checking everyone in who entered through the gates after 10, so he must have waited until after then. Campus police were on a patrol when they heard screaming. He tried to grab a girl walking home from the library and got his ass pepper sprayed.”

You suppressed a snort at that. For someone who’d gone to such over-the-top measures to subvert the authorities after murdering three women at once, he was continuing to prove your initial theory, unprofessional though it was - he was an idiot.

Hotch thanked and dismissed the officer, who left after shooting one more glance of barely-suppressed disgust through the one-way window. Just the three of you now, you stepped forward, looking at your subject.

The first thing you noticed was his youth - he was young, around your age, which shocked you despite already knowing that information. He was big, too; not overly fit, but he certainly looked strong enough to have had the upper hand on nearly any female victim he chose. His face, inflamed and dripping with tears from the effects of the pepper spray, was his defining feature in that it wasn’t particularly defining at all. The structure was mildly unattractive - too-big nose, downturned eyes - and the symmetry just off enough that the absence of a stellar personality to compensate would render him nearly invisible to the opposite sex. That, you supposed, combined with a predisposition towards instability and a repeated lack of success with women, had created the perfect storm of obsessiveness and delusion that produced the three (almost four)-time rapist and murderer that sat on the other side of the glass.

“We need a confession,” Hotch said, breaking you out of your internal analysis, “but we also need to know if he’s done this before. Garcia put together a list of missing women that fit the victimology here as well as in Arizona and Nevada. Considering he dumped bodies there, we can assume he has some degree of comfort with those areas.”

Morgan grabbed the aforementioned list from Hotch and shook his head. “There’s dozens of names on this list.”

Hotch nodded in acknowledgement. “I know. That’s why I’d like to get closure for as many of the families as possible. But first, let’s focus on the three we know about.” He turned to you. “Morgan and I will go in first. We may have some success with intimidation from male authority figures, but I don’t see us piquing enough interest to get a confession. Normally, I’d send Prentiss or JJ in a situation like this, but I have full faith you can handle it.”

He paused, inspecting your face, no doubt gauging your reaction. “How do you feel about interacting with him?”

You felt sick, to tell the truth, knowing you were an exact match for his preferences. More than that, you felt woefully unprepared to conduct your second-ever interrogation under the scrutiny of two of the BAU’s experienced agents, including your boss. Especially your boss, whose gravelly voice and piercing eyes seemed to be occupying much more of your mental real estate than you were comfortable with.

You reassured him that you’d be fine, though, because looking like you were scared of interviewing a serial killer cast doubt on your ability to actually, you know, do your job . And if you watched Morgan and Hotch enter the interrogation room while really hoping that Hotch was underestimating their ability to crack him, well, no one needed to know.

Morgan swung the folding chair around, sitting with his arms propped on the backrest, directly across from Matthews. Matthews’ gaze, however, was glued to Hotch, who was standing with his arms crossed diagonally behind Morgan. You couldn’t see Hotch’s face, as his back was to you, but you knew what it looked like - jaw taut, lips pressed tight, frown even more pronounced than usual. Intimidating to anyone he came across, probably even more so if you were someone he was about to interrogate on suspicion of murder.

They made their introductions and began.

“Listen, Ellory, I’m gonna be straight with you here,” Morgan said, leaning forward. “This is not looking good for you, my man. We got you on attempted kidnapping at the same school three murdered girls attended. We have friends of these victims say they talked about a creepy teaching assistant in their classes. You’ve got piles of criminal psychology textbooks hidden in your house with notes that match what happened to these girls exactly. Put this in front of a jury, you’re getting convicted no question. At this point, it’s a matter of whether or not you wanna work with us and make this a little easier on you. You feel me?”

Matthews mumbled something indistinct, looking at his feet.

“Speak up,” Hotch commanded. You’d seen this before, what Morgan jokingly called the “good cop, bad drill sergeant” routine, but it always amazed you how easily they slipped into the roles.

Matthews looked up then, defiant. “They’re not mine.”

Morgan scoffed. “What aren’t? The books? C’mon man, they were under your mattress. In your house. No one’s buying that.”

“Well, it’s true,” Matthews mumbled, looking back down at his hands. “Don’t know how they got there.”

“And the girl?” Morgan asked, obviously unconvinced. “How you wanna explain you trying to kidnap a girl who fits the exact profile of three other girls who got kidnapped and killed in the same week?”

He whipped his head up at that, furious. “I wasn’t kidnapping her. She needed a ride. It was late.”

Hotch spoke up, his tone cutting. “Then why did she taze you?”

“She didn- look, she was confused, okay? I don’t know.”

“Sounds to me like she was pretty fuckin’ ungrateful,” Morgan offered. You cringed. You knew what he was playing at, but it was hard to hear nonetheless.

He continued, “Pretty girl like her, it wasn’t safe walking around that late, right? And you try to be a gentleman, try to help, and she freaks out and attacks you. That’d piss me off too, man.”

“Yeah. I guess,” Matthew responded, eyes flicking between Morgan and Hotch, seemingly unsure.

“Don’t worry about him,” Morgan said. “He’s just here cuz he has to be. Listen. We’re on the same page here. I’m you, I’m nice to these girls, I offer them rides, I treat ‘em like a gentleman. They turn around and act stuck-up, like they’re too good for me, right? That makes me mad.”

He paused, waiting for Matthews’ reaction. Matthews nodded, hesitant.

“So, what? Maybe I see them after they graduate or leave the college and confront them or something; tell them off for being such assholes to me when I was their TA. Maybe it gets heated, I gotta defend myself, someone gets hurt. Now, that’s not my fault, right?”

Matthews nodded again, more enthusiastic this time.

“Is that what happened to those girls, Ellory?” Hotch asked.

The room fell silent, waiting on his response. You leaned forward, nose almost pressed against the glass, praying it would really be this easy.

Matthews opened and closed his mouth, unsure. Morgan had worked him up, you could tell - his face was red, his hands balled up into fists on the table. He took a deep breath…

…and shook his head.

You cursed, stepping away from the glass. You heard Hotch and Morgan exit the interrogation room and come in behind you. You turned to face them.

“I thought you had him for sure,” you groaned to Morgan.

“Me too,” he replied, “but we got close. She going in next?” he asked Hotch.

Hotch looked at you. “He’s close to cracking. Act like he’d be doing you a huge favor by confessing, like you’d be in his debt. He wants to feel powerful, important. Convince him he can be.”

Catering to a man’s ego was a skill you’d fine-tuned after years of studying under, working with, and existing alongside them. Most men you’d had to flatter didn’t inspire quite so much disgust, however.

Just pretend he’s another idiot at a bar.

You straightened your cardigan and nodded. “I’m ready.”

“Remember,” Hotch said, “we’re right here. If you get too uncomfortable, just leave. This is a lot to ask of you so early in your position; I won’t blame you if it doesn’t go to plan.”

You nodded again and tried your best to smile. “Gotta learn sometime though, right?”

Morgan held out his fist to bump, and you obliged. “That’s my girl,” he said. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Hotch looked much less enthusiastic, but opened and held the door for you anyways. You took a deep breath and entered, plastering what you hoped was a convincing smile on your face. Matthews looked up, surprised, and returned your smile. He looked so normal in that moment, it was hard for you to reconcile that this was the same man who stalked, raped, and murdered three women and led authorities on a purposeless goose chase to divert suspicion.

Taking a seat directly across the table from him, you introduced yourself. “I’m the new intern at the BAU. I asked my boss if I could come talk to you. I just don’t feel like they really understood you, ya know?” You grinned, hoping the flattery would stick.

It appeared to, as Matthews leaned forward and spoke in a hushed voice, as if he was confiding in you. “I know how guys like that are. They think they’re the shit. Women always fall for that, though.” He looked at you intensely, and you started to realize very quickly why his victims had found him unsettling. “You don’t fall for that, right? That alpha male stuff?”

You forced out a laugh. “No, I prefer more sensitive guys. Ones that you can have a conversation with.”

“Are we having a conversation?”

“Wh-what? I’m sorry?”

“Are we having a conversation?” he repeated, still holding intense eye contact.

“Well, yes, I would say so,” you replied. “On that note, um, I wanted to be honest with you. It would really mean a lot to me if the families of -” you paused, choosing your words carefully, “- the three girls we’ve been talking to you about could get closure.”

“How do you mean?” asked Matthews, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“I just mean, they don’t know what happened to them, you know? And if we could tell them that whatever happened to them, it was a misunderstanding, and the person who did it feels bad, I think that would help a lot.”

Matthews’ beady, swollen eye twitched at that. “Feels bad?”

Oh, fuck.

“Sorry, I don’t know if bad is the right word, just that they didn’t want that to happen. For them to die.”

He paused. Seemed to make a decision.

"Who said I didn't want them to die?"

You had misjudged him - in that moment, you knew that. You had assumed the fatal ends to the encounters with his victims were born out of shame. That he felt remorse. That he didn’t want to mutilate and discard their bodies, and that the purposeful distractions from his true psychological profile had been a desperate attempt of an unintelligent man to throw the police off his trail. He was a creep, he was a stalker, he was obsessive and dangerous, and he was unintelligent. But he was also a sadist.

Realizing how pathetically unprepared you were to deal with this new diagnosis, you pushed back from the table and moved to stand - slowly, like you were trying to avoid startling a wild animal. Trying. But it all happened so fast.

Matthews shot up from his seat the instant you did - uncuffed, because he wasn’t supposed to be a threat, not like this - and grabbed you by the neck, dragging you across the table, scraping your legs against the hard metal edges. You screamed for help (really just screamed Hotch’s name over and over) until he had you too tight and you couldn’t anymore. Your hair was in your face, obscuring your vision, but you heard the door crash open seconds after he moved. He wrenched you closer to him, trapping you in the crook of one elbow, cutting off your breathing. More than cutting off your breathing, he was squeezing, much harder than he needed to simply choke you, and amidst the haze of your hair in your face and the blood rushing in your ears and the muffled sounds of Hotch and Morgan yelling, you had the wild thought that he might actually detach your head from your shoulders.

They can’t shoot, you thought, your last clear notion before your mind started to go fuzzy. He had you too close; the space was too small. A loud crash, presumably the table being launched against a wall, cut through the pounding in your head. You felt a sharp jerk - Matthews trying to move away - a sickening, dull crack, and the vice holding your throat was released. You dropped forward onto your hands and knees, hacking desperately, tears streaming onto the ground.

Morgan grabbed you by the shoulders and sat you up. “You ok? Hey, look at me, you ok? Can you breathe? Breathe for me, ok, come on.”

Coughing out a raspy, “Yes,” you pushed your hair out of your eyes and wiped your sleeve through the snot and mascara streaking your face. You looked to your left, trying to see what happened to Matthews, and nearly stopped breathing again.

He was dead, collapsed into a pile on the floor like sodden laundry. There was no blood, no apparent evidence of what happened, until you looked to his head and saw how grossly contorted his neck was. You looked up at Hotch in shock, who was standing over the body, hair askew, breathing heavily.

He broke his fucking neck.

Morgan could’ve done it, of course, but by the way Hotch looked up and met your eyes, you knew that wasn’t the case.

They gathered you up and wrapped you in a jacket. You saw paramedics almost immediately who cleared you medically (“No permanent tracheal damage, just expect bruising and soreness.”), met with internal investigators who questioned you about the incident, spoke to the rest of the team on a video call, spent 20 minutes on the phone with Garcia trying to reassure her between coughing fits that you were all alright, and finally, you were cleared to leave. The whole time, though, you were paying less and less attention to what was going on around you and more time thinking about the way Hotch looked when you looked him in the face.

You knew he had to have killed before; working this job for as long as he did made that a certainty. What you didn’t expect to see on his face was a complete lack of remorse. Disgust, even. He looked down at Matthews like he was scum, his lip curled and his jaw set. It was only when you made eye contact that you saw the slightest bit of emotion, of panic, before they whisked you away.

Morgan interrupted your cyclical musing. “You need someone to stay with you?”

Right, he was dropping you off at your hotel room.

“No, thank you Morgan,” you whispered, throat feeling more raw by the minute. “I’ll be okay.”

Morgan looked unconvinced but refrained from debating you. “Alright, but you know to call if you need anything, right?”

You nodded and managed a small smile. “Thank you.”

____________

Later that day, you took a commercial flight back, alone. Morgan and Hotch were staying for a few more days to finish closing the case, but they insisted you go home and rest. You were too drained to argue.

When you closed your eyes to sleep that night, in your own apartment, you expected to see Matthews, jeering at you from across the table. You expected to feel his arms wrap around your throat, to smell his stench, to wake up in a cold sweat thinking he was standing over you, ready to attack you again.

None of those things happened. In fact, when you closed your eyes, Matthews wasn’t the man you saw at all.

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

Text

So Henry, you want to start a YouTube channel? - Chapter 3

Summary: Twenty five year old YouTuber Sandy Choi has no idea that one of her five million subscribers is the one and only Henry Cavill. When he asks her to help him out with starting his own YouTube channel, she falls more and more in love with her. But she should’ve known that dating one of the most desirable bachelors, does come with a prize.

Henry Cavill x Sandy Choi (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 4k

A/N: If you want to be on the taglist, please let me know. Also, I really like reading that you like the story. Such a great way to make my day xx

Masterlist // Channel introduction // Previous chapter // Next chapter

So, this is where Henry Cavill lives. It’s a cute home, but never figured he’d be the one that would live here. I take a few deep breaths, but it doesn’t calm down my nerves. I look down at my white dress and wonder if it’s too much.

I think it’s too much.

I don’t know what I could wear to meet him. I was thinking about a short and a top, but felt that was a little bit too revealing, but come to think of it, this dress is pretty short.

I still don’t know, it looks almost wedding dressy. I shouldn’t have worn this. I stare at my Dr. Martens sandals, thanking the fashion angels that I didn’t wear the cute white heels that I initially had in mind. The only thing I would be missing, was a bouquet.

I grab my phone from my purse, to check what time it is. I was supposed to be at his place at eleven and 10:59.

I walk up to the door and press the doorbell. I hear a loud bark, causing me to jump. From behind the door, there are some stumbling noises and I can even hear his long and deep voice. The door opens with a crack and Henry greets me with a bright smile. ‘Hi Sandy.’

Holy shit, is this even legal? Why on earth is he wearing a tank top? Why would he do that to me? What is the point of doing such thing? Is he actively trying to kill me, because if so, it’s working. I can barely function anymore, since his arms are really distracting. I mean, I noticed it yesterday, I noticed it on the best video online, the PC building one, but now…

Holy shit, I can’t even seem to find the right way to greet him.

‘Are you okay, Sandy?’ he asks, when I haven’t said anything at all.

‘Yes, yes, I’m fine,’ I say, way too quickly. I clear my throat, not knowing what to say to him.

‘Please,’ he says, ‘come in.’ Henry takes a step to the side and I walk past him. He has a nicely decorated house, something that I hadn’t expected. It’s really neat too, didn’t expect that from him. ‘You want something to drink?’

‘Water would be nice.’ Kal has noticed me too, because he slowly struts towards me, his butt wiggling from side to side, while he wags his tail. ‘Hi, you big ball of floof. You are nice and clean again.’

‘It was pretty hard washing him in the tiny bath tub,’ Henry recounts and hands me a glass of cold water, with some ice cubes in it.

I clear my throat. ‘Right,’ I say. Standing in front of him shouldn’t make me feel this awkward, especially not after yesterday. I slowly managed to loosen up, but from the looks of it, we are back from square one. I feel my hands shake a bit from the nerves and my shoulders feel painfully tense.

It doesn’t help that Henry is this tall, this bulky, the complete opposite of me. I can’t seem to make eye contact with him and I curse myself for that. Why do I even feel tears out of pure frustration burning in my eyes?

‘You play video games, Sandy?’ Henry asks me. His voice is sweet and thick at the same time.

I scratch Kal behind his ear. ‘Just some Animal Crossing.’

‘Is it worth the hype?’

‘Mhm.’

‘Why do you play it?’

Though it almost feels like a third degree, I’m happy that he is asking me questions about simple things like Animal Crossing and not those deep questions about the existence of life. ‘It’s relaxing,’ I confess. ‘I need that from time to time.’ I look up again, when I know for a fact that my eyes aren’t glossy anymore.

‘So, you don’t play other games?’

I shake my head, not ready to confess that I sometimes grab my old Nintendo DS to play Style Boutique on it. I mean, I like Henry a lot, but sharing this, is one—or five—bridges too far.

‘I think you played this one,’ he says with a confident smile, while he walks to the television.

Is he wearing some perfume? I inhale again, only to be met with a mix of salty and sweet, the perfect combination for a male perfume. He didn’t wear that yesterday and I know that, because I was pretty damn close to him and you bet your ass I took a sniff.

Henry holds up two Mario Kart wheels and I see the remotes are already attached to it. ‘Look at that precious smile,’ he says and only then I realize that I’m indeed smiling. Did he just call my smile precious? ‘You want to play?’

‘Mhm.’ I walk up to the couch and place my glass on a coaster. He hands me a wheel with a remote and plops on the couch, as he starts up the Wii. There is only one more spot left for me to sit and that is right next to him.

As if Kal senses I’m hesitating, he pushes his nose against my leg and I sit down next to Henry. I feel his warmth radiating against my skin, causing me to nearly hyperventilate. His bulky arm accidentally touches me and I clear my throat, not knowing what I should do with myself. Sitting next to him on this couch, is less intimidating than standing in front of him, but it’s still pretty scary.

And I know that I shouldn’t be scared of him, but I can’t help but feel nervous. ‘Are you any good?’ I ask quietly.

‘I always kick Jackson’s ass.’ He looks to the side and our eyes meet. ‘But he is so so. Usually ends at sixth place.’

We pick out our characters (he is Donkey Kong, while I opt for baby Daisy) and once we have chosen our vehicles, Henry leaves it up to me to choose an entire cup for us to race. ‘Special Cup.’

‘You know Rainbow Road is on that cup?’ he mentions.

‘I’m aware, yes.’ I get ready for the first course: Dry Dry Ruins. ‘Good luck,’ I say to him.

‘You think I need it?’ His eyebrow is cocked and he has a smug grin on his face. Besides him getting more and more confident, he is also getting more handsome every passing minute. ‘I’m really good, Sandy.’

‘I figured. Just, don’t hold back for me, okay?’

‘Sure?’ he asks. ‘Because… I don’t want you to feel bad or anything afterwards.’ That’s adorable, oh my God.

‘I’m not a sore loser, so just race like you would usually do.’

The first race is about to start and we both watch the countdown. I push in the right button at the exact moment I know it’s going to give me a better start. Baby Daisy shoots from the 11th place to the sixth, while Henry stutters Donkey Kong to tenth place (from twelfth, if I may add so). While I soar over the roads, pushing myself to a first place, I manage to stay there for the rest of the race, making the gap between me and second place (and everyone else) bigger and bigger as the race continues. I race over the finish line, making a wheelie as I do so and I watch Henry trying to get himself from seventh to sixth place. He is muttering to himself, growing more and more annoyed.

He finally crosses the finish line. ‘I do need luck,’ he mutters. ‘Can’t believe you kicked my ass like that.’

Our second course is Moonview Highway and I snort every time Henry gets run over by a car or a truck and even drives himself off the road multiple times. He ends up in twelfth place and he is visibly frustrated now.

I shouldn’t be thinking like that, but he looks hot as hell when he’s angry like that. He could easily break the Mario kart wheel and the remote in half and knowing that he can do that, it’s something I’ll probably dream about tonight.

‘We can stop, you know,’ I say to him.

‘No, no, no,’ he says, ‘there is still a chance I can not make a total fool out of myself.’

The third course is Bowser’s Castle and this time, Henry is not a total disaster. He managed to earn himself a third place, while I’m still at number one. ‘I have come to realize and accept that I won’t be beating you, but I have to make sure I’m not losing from the computers.’

I can’t help but chuckle.

The final race is my favorite. I love Rainbow Road and know exactly how to maneuver over the roads. While I’ve crossed the finish line, Henry is still falling behind. I press the + button to pause the game. ‘Let me,’ I say and gently pull the steering wheel from his hands. I race Donkey Kong from eighth place to fourth (I’m good, but I’m not a magician. I can’t poof myself over the finish line) and when I cross the finish line, I hand him back the steering wheel. ‘Congratulations,’ I say, ‘you managed to become fifth.’

‘How on earth are you this good? This was unbelievable!’ Henry starts to laugh. ‘You were crossing the finish line twenty seconds before number two would finish, or worse, a whole minute.’

‘Back in college, we did this a lot. We even had a championship.’

‘Tell me you became first.’

I smile. ‘I did, was the best of entire UCLA, three times in a row.’

‘You never shared that on your vlogs.’

That’s cute. He really watches my videos intently, something that is insanely endearing. ‘I didn’t, no. Seemed a bit: oh look at me, you know?’

‘There is nothing wrong with flaunting,’ Henry says. ‘I mean, you do it with your dance videos right?’

I know that he has seen a lot of my videos, but thinking about him sitting on this couch, Kal pressed against his side and him watching those particular videos, makes me uncomfortable. ‘It’s barely flaunting.’

He tilts his head, I notice from the corners of my eyes. ‘You shouldn’t be this hard on yourself, Sandy,’ he says in a soft tone. ‘You are amazing, five million people and probably more watch your videos. There are a lot of people who are reading your books and…’ He doesnt finish his sentence, while he is looking for the right words to say.

‘You’ve read my books?’ I ask him.

Now he’s blushing a bit and he isn’t looking at me anymore. ‘I’ve read them,’ he admits.

I chuckle. ‘That’s sweet.’

‘But I’m not the only one who adores your videos and finish your books from cover to cover in one sitting. There are tons more and you being modest is absolutely admirable and it only makes you more likable, but there is nothing wrong with admitting that you are talented in many other ways. There is nothing wrong with saying that you are indeed amazing, because it’s true and it shows confidence.’

I bite my lip. ‘Well, fake it till you make it, isn’t that what they say?’

‘Eventually it’ll not be fake anymore.’

A deep sigh leaves my lips and I look at my hands, my thumbs fumbling together. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper.

‘Why are you apologizing, Sandy?’

‘That I’m like this again,’ I say. ‘I have a lot of trouble meeting new people and after yesterday…’ Why am I sharing this with him? He’ll probably think I’m the biggest whiny baby on the planet. ‘Never mind.’

‘No, no,’ Henry says, ‘tell me, please. I want to know.’

Kal sits in front of me and I place my hands on the sides of his face, scratching him. ‘I felt really good yesterday after we met, but now I feel like none of that is left. I feel like we’re starting over again. It’s just that I’m not sure what I can say to you now. And you do make it easier and I’m already less nervous and you being a total loser at Mario Kart obviously helps too… I think I don’t want you to think that I’m not having fun.’

‘Sandy,’ Henry says, ‘we’re not starting over. I’m happy that you told me this, though.’

I look up from Kal, to only notice he is already looking at me again.

‘You’re not mad?’

‘This is the last thing I should be mad about. I’m just grateful that you trust me enough to tell me this.’ He bumps his knee against mine and says: ‘I don’t think I can handle it again if I lose.’

‘Figured.’ I look around me, to find something to talk about. As if he is waiting for me to take the first step, he doesn’t say anything. ‘Do you have filming equipment?’

‘I have my phone.’

I scrunch up my nose. ‘But a camera is better. You can separate your files more easily, believe me, you’d want that.’

‘I’ll have to believe the expert on that one,’ Henry laughs.

‘Editing software?’

‘Well, I have a few computers around here, but I also have a MacBook, with iMovie on it. Heard that was pretty good. I bet you use something else.’

‘I used to use iMovie,’ I tell him, ‘but now I use Final Cut Pro. It’s around three hundred bucks, maybe a bit more.’

Henry nods. ‘So, I should buy a camera?’

‘Mhm and more.’

‘What?’

‘A hard disk, a tiny tripod, a big tripod. I was thinking you should buy like a microphone and better lightening, but that’s not really necessary. Yet.’

‘Right.’ Henry rubs his hands together and asks: ‘Want to go shopping with me?’

⟢⟡⟣

Henry spend around five hundred pounds on a camera. In a different store we bought a hard disk and indeed two tripods, though they were heavily overpriced, but Henry said that it was fine.

For the occasion, Henry put on a shirt, but this one still accentuates his arms. For a second my mind wanders to my lovely daydreams: thinking about how it would be if he’d wrap those arms around me, pulling me against his insanely strong body and kissing me on top of my head. But to not go into cardiac arrest right here and now, I decide I’ll just have to wait and dream about that when I go to sleep.

Henry is unpacking his camera and turns it on. ‘God, this is beautiful,’ he says, holding the camera up, to take a picture, while he is watching the screen. He packed everything in a blue backpack, that rests between his legs as we sit on a park bench in the shadow. He looks around him and his eyes fall on a field filled with flowers. ‘Let’s have a little photoshoot,’ he says when he turns around, to meet my eyes.

I frown. ‘What?’

‘I have to test out this camera and when I have you with me, you should be my model.’

I’m visibly confused. ‘You want to take pictures of me?’

‘Yes,’ he simply states. ‘Come on.’ He grabs his backpack and walks to the field. I follow him, but now I’m growing more nervous.

Henry Cavill wants to make pictures of me?

‘Go stand over there,’ he tells me and points to the sunflowers. I walk up to it, my legs nearly turning into jello as I stand next to the sunflower that is around my height.

He crouches down and I cock an eyebrow. ‘I’ve seen your editorials, Sandy, you’ll do amazing here. Besides, it’s just me.’

It’s never going to be just you, Henry, don’t you get that? I take a deep breath and start to pose for the pictures. He clicks his tongue, as he continues to snap pictures, telling me I’m looking beautiful, but finally the sun is frying my head. ‘Can we stop?’ I ask him. ‘I’m a sweaty mess.’

Henry starts to chuckle and looks at the screen. ‘Sure thing.’

I walk up to him, so I can look at the pictures as well and oh my God, these all look really good.

‘Wow,’ I mention. ‘Those are pretty decent.’

‘It helps when the model is easy to photograph.’

I clear my throat. What does one say to that? ‘Judging from these pictures, you’ll probably do great with filming,’ I say and together we walk back to the road again. ‘Oh look,’ I say, when Henry has put the camera in his backpack. ‘Cotton candy.’

‘Candy floss. You’re in the UK now, Sandy.’

I roll my eyes. ‘Fine, candy floss then.’

Henry tells me to wait, before he takes a few strides and he’s at the stand, buying one. I decide to watch from a far, especially when the man behind the stand wants a picture with him. I don’t want to intrude, so I wander a bit down the road, making sure that Henry can still see me.

Henry walks up to me, with a giant ball of cotton— candy floss on a stick. He plucks off some of the sweet stuff. ‘Open your mouth,’ he tells me.

If that isn’t something right out of my fantasies, then I don’t know anymore. ‘You’re going to feed me?’

‘Yeah, so your hands don’t get sticky.’ Henry has a lovely smile on his face and I wonder what is he going to be like as a boyfriend? As my boyfriend to be exact.

Would he be rough, dominant and strong, like the fanfics suggest (yes, I read those) or is he soft and cuddly? Now I do suspect a bit of both.

He could be pretty dominant. I mean, he told me to open my mouth and my first reflex was wanting to ask how far open he would’ve liked it. But on the other hand, he is also pretty soft, especially towards me. He wants me to be at ease with him, keeps giving me thoughtful compliments and he even said I was beautiful and that I’m easy to photograph.

I mean, who says that kind of stuff?

Boyfriends do right?

Rolling my eyes, I open my mouth and he feeds me some of the candy floss. He retract his hand, before my lips can reach his fingers. I shouldn’t be thinking like this. I can barely look at the man from time to time, let alone if I have these kind of impure thoughts.

‘Last time I had candy floss,’ he says, ‘was when I was sixteen. My friends laughed at me, because I wanted a pink one. I know they all taste the same, no matter what color, but pink is the color it’s supposed to be, right?’

I nod. ‘Agree,’ I say as the sugar dissolves on my tongue.

‘When was the last time you had it?’

‘I think I was eight. My dad took me out to the park, because we knew there was a stand where they sold cotton candy. We always walked passed it a few times, because my mom told us that it was really unhealthy and that your teeth would rot off if you ate it. But my mom wasn’t with us then, so we ate like three of those sticks together and we had to lie down on a park bench for about an hour, because we felt so sick.’

‘Does your mom know now?’

‘No, we’re too scared to tell her.’

Henry chuckles. ‘Are you close with your parents?’

I nod. ‘Yeah, I am. My mother reminds me every single day I should take my vitamins, to stay hydrated and not to frown, but that’s her way of showing me how much she cares. My dad texts me everyday, just telling me how his day is going.’

‘Don’t you miss them?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘Why did you even move to London?’ He plucks off some more cotton candy and brings it to my lips. Butterflies flutter inside of my stomach. I feel myself getting more relaxed around him again and him doing this, it feels so normal to us. ‘You never mentioned it in your vlogs.’

I smile, licking the sweet stuff off my lips. ‘I wanted to see the world and I earned enough money to afford it. My parents were really supportive and they wanted me to explore the world. They just hoped I was going to New York or Canada. But they are excited for me. They always watch my videos and even wake up in the middle of the night if I post in the mornings. They have been there for me since the beginning and though I’m in another continent, I feel like they are always right there.’

‘Isn’t it scary?’ he asks. ‘Being in another continent, without your parents at like twenty five?’

‘Every single day.’

We walk down the street and he continues to feed me the cotton candy. It feels weirdly intimate, but not awkwardly intimate. I open my mouth again, but he holds it a little above my reach. ‘Henry,’ I mumble, ‘not funny.’

He chuckles, lowering his hand, but I could’ve known that he was just messing with me. When I stand on my toes, he holds it further above my head and eventually eats the pink stuff himself.

I want to grab some off the stick, but even that he holds above my head. ‘Henry, come on. Don’t be mean.’

He doesn’t think this is mean, because he continues to do it, laughing the entire time. He does it again and I jump up, hoping I can reach it, but it’s hopeless.

I jump up again, but this time I fold my fingers around his forearm, pulling his strong arm with me so I can finally get a bite.

But holding his thick arm like this, it’s giving me all sorts of thoughts. He feels so strong and it’s quite intimidating of course, but something about his warm skin, is also intensely soft.

‘I knew that was there,’ he says with an almost proud smile.

‘That was there what?’ I ask, letting go of his arm.

‘That bit of assertiveness.’

My cheeks flare up. ‘Hardly.’

‘Hence the bit part.’

I glance at him, but it doesn’t last long. He can’t seem to stop smiling and to be fair, I don’t want him to. He looks breathtakingly handsome and like a perfectly sculpted human. He licks his fingers and I bet he knows exactly what that is doing to me. He throws the stick away and wants to wipe his fingers to his shirt or pants, but I stop him.

‘Wait,’ I say, before digging through my small purse, finding a tissue. ‘Here.’

‘Well prepared,’ he comments, as he takes the tissue out of my hand.

‘Always.’

He cleans his hands and throws the tissue into the bin. ‘Thanks for coming with me today.’

‘Sure,’ I say. ‘What do you want to film first?’

‘No idea yet. I want a bit of everything, you know.’

I nod. ‘Get it. When I started my channel, I was thinking about doing a fashion channel. When I thought about it, I realized I didn’t want that and wanted more lifestyle related videos.’

‘What stopped you from doing fashion videos?’

‘Not being fashionable enough.’

‘Nonsense,’ he tells me in a stern voice. ‘You look fashionable.’

I hold in a giggle that bubbles up. Dominant boyfriend Henry is definitely a concept.

‘What even made you start your channel?’

‘I wanted to romanticize my life,’ I answer. ‘I felt like I was wasting my life and realizing that ever moment is worth noting, it’ll give you tons of footage. Just keep that in mind when you film. Nothing is too boring for a vlog, as long as you edit it nicely.’

Henry nods. ‘That’s beautifully said, Sandy.’

Taglist: @flhorah // @henrythickcavill // @toomanystoriessolittletime // @tumblnewby // @newts-fan-case // @thelastsock

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #so henry you want to start a youtube channel #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavil x sandy choi

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ravens-words · 4 years

Text

Tell me how all this (and love, too) will ruin us

For @bamfalexmanes ❤ Elle, I hope you like it

The one in which Michael and Alex have a talk, some truths are revealed and a new hope is born.

This is a sequel of a sort to we burned down our paper house.

Happy Reading!!

"Are you okay?"

Michael looked up quickly, too quickly if the way his vision blurred for a second was an indication, and found Alex looking down at him with a frown of concern.

Michael hated it. He also wanted to put his lips to those three lines that resided in between his brows and kiss it away.

"I'm fine," he mumbled pathetically, looking away before his thoughts became too hard to conceal and showed up on his face. Neither of them would be ready for that.

Alex crouched beside him and Michael's eyes flickered up to meet his. He smiled, and Michael's treacherous heart beat a hard rhythm against his chest. "You're not fine," he told him casually.

Michael laughed bitterly. Of course he wasn't alright. There was an ancient, psychotic alien who looked like his brother's twin living in his bunker. Max wasn't getting any better, seemed to be even more manic now that that they'd found Jones. And Michael had to live everyday with a regret that threatened to choke him alive every single time he saw Alex and Forrest together. When he'd walked away in the middle of Alex's song, he hadn't been thinking clearly. He'd been so sure that it wasn't their time, that they would have time later, that they weren't ready in that moment. He'd known, in his bones, that he and Alex were meant for each other. They'd loved each other through the worst of times, and still do after almost twelve years. Whatever thing he had with Forrest wouldn't last, Michael had convinced himself, but- Alex needed it. Alex needed something light and good and happy and fleeting, just like what he'd had with Maria.

After he had tried with Maria, Michael's belief that Alex was the only one for him had been cemented. Selfleshly, he'd wanted the same to happen for Alex. Michael had desperately needed that reassurance.

It had backfired on him, because of all the things he'd accounted for in the minute it took to make the decision to walk away, he hadn't accounted for the most important one; having to watch the love of his life be with someone else. Having to watch him kiss someone else, laugh with someone else and wishing that it was him.

Jealousy wasn't a new thing to Michael. He'd spent his whole life, it felt like, being jealous. Jealous of Max and Isobel for getting the family while he got bounced around from home to home. Jealous of Max and Isobel when they literally killed people, and yet his life turne out to be the worst out of the three of them. Jealous of Isobel for getting married to the person she loved and building herself a home (before Noah turned out to be a serial killer). And now, jealous of Forrest Long, of all people, for getting to be with Alex in a way Michael had not been in all the years they'd been in love.

"This is about me and Forrest, isn't it?" Even though it was phrased as one, Michael knew it wasn't a question.

He didn't answer. Ashamed and guilty and relieved that Alex got it without him having to say it.

Alex sighed. "I watched you be with Maria for a lot longer, you know," he told him mildly, tone almost teasing.

Michael found himself silent again, because yeah, Alex had watched him be with Maria for nearly a year and had been gracious about it. He had been supportive, even, according to Maria. Michael wanted to do the same, had been trying for a little less than a month with varying degrees of success.

He didn't know how Alex could stand it.

"It's not about you and Forrest." One last ditch effort to be the friend and not the helpless fool in love.

It didn't work. Of course it didn't work.

Alex raised his eyebrows. "Did you really think that would work?"

Michael shrugged. "Figured I had to try."

Alex shifted from his crouch to sit beside Michael, and their shoulders brushed. The touch sent shivers down his spine and he had to fight the instinct to lean closer. Damn, but he missed the closeness, the comfort of it. "Well, now that you have, are you ready to tell me why you're here on your own instead of being inside with all of us?"

"Is it me?" He found himself asking. He sounded like a small child and found himself looking down to avoid looking at Alex.

He felt Alex stiffen beside him And immediately wanted to take it back. He didn't, though. After a few seconds of silence, Alex relaxed and let out a slow breath. "Something that you never managed to understand, Michael, was that at no point in the past eleven years was I ever ashamed of you. It was never about you. It was my father, it was the military, it was me. But it was never you. That is, until you chose to do something illegal on our first date."

Michael looked up at the sky and shook his head as they both laughed softly. He marveled at how far they had come, that they could laugh about something that had torn them apart two years ago.

Once their laughter died down, Alex spoke again. "You have to understand that my father made me live in fear for a really, really long time. He- I was thirteen when I figured out I was gay, and twelve when he did. From that moment on, I lived in constant fear of being myself. The only time I wasn't aftlraid was with you. And we both know how that turned out."

It hurt to hear, because Alex didn't deserve any of it, but knowing that he had somehow helped, that Alex wasn't ashamed of him, was a balm on a gaping wound that had been bleeding for a long time.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Alex smiled, reassuring. "Now get up, suck it up and come inside." Though outwardly his demeanor was light, Michael could tell this was a test. He'd never failed a test in his life and he was damned if he was going to start now.

He got up, followed Alex inside and sucked it up.

.................

"Guerin!"

Michael grinned automatically and spun around to greet Alex. To his surprise, he wasn't alone. The man with him was just a little shorter, but was built like a tank. Alex clapped him on the shoulder and smiled at him. "Hey."

"Hi."

Alex gestured at the man. "This is Bradley Williams, a buddy of mine."

"Hey, man," Michael took over the introduction. "Michael Guerin. Nice-" he trailed off as the man's eyes widened and his head spun around to look at Alex with a speed that had him wondering how his head was still attached. "-to meet you?" He looked between the two men. The man was grinning ear to ear now, while Alex was glaring daggers at him. "Am I missing something here?"

"Yes," Bradley said.

"No," Alex countered, in a way that left no room for argument.

Michael was surprised to see the man back off immediately and wondered exactly how the two had met. It must have been the air force, but it wouldn't explain the evident closeness. The two seemed like brothers.

"Listen, his car is a mess. But h's stubborn and won't admit he can't fix it. Can you take a look at it and tell him he needs to have a professional fix it?" The last part, though addressed to him, was said pointedly in Bradley's direction.

"Sure thing."

The car was a mess. Alex took too much pleasure in being right and processed to give Bradley shit the second Michael confirmed it. Seeing Alex like this, happy and carefree, never failed to make Michael's heart swell with fondness for him. It was seriously a problem.

About fifteen minutes later, Alex got a call and stepped away from them. "You know, this is gonna take a while, so you can just go and I'll give you or Alex a call when it's ready."

"Nah," he said with forced casualness. "I'm good here. Plus, he's probably gonna go back to the base- yup, there's that look." When Bradley pointed the bottle in Alex's direction, Michael's eyes followed and noticed the serious look on his face.

"I gotta go back to the base," he told them, putting the phone in his back pocket. "Let me drive you to the house?"

Bradley leaned back in his chair. "I'm good here, cap; you go ahead."

They locked eyes and after a few seconds, Alex nodded, giving him a wry smile. Michael felt like an outsider as they seemed to have an entire conversation without saying a thing.

Once Alex was gone, the other man turned to him. "Forgive my bluntness, but why the hell aren't you two together?"

Michael's head whipped around and he stared at the man, pissed off and in awe in equal measures. Had he managed to figure out Michael was in love with Alex from spending twenty minutes with them? "What?" He spluttered.

Bradley shook his head. "He told me about you. The way-"

Michael's whole world did a somersault around its axis. "He- he talked about me?"

The older man's forehead crinkled in a frown, but then his features softened and he let out a huff of a breath that could have been a laugh. "Yes, he talked about you. Not much, mind you. He kept a lot of things close to the vest back then, still does, but- everyone in our unit kinda knew there was someone special for him back home, way before he told me."

Someone special. At a time where he'd thought of himself as an afterthought, a dirty secret, in Alex's life, the people closest to him at the time had thought he was someone special.

"Every time he talked to you on the phone, he'd be settled, more- alive, I guess- for the next couple of days. Sometimes, I'd even catch him on the phone with you and he'd have this look on his face and I just knew."

"Knew what?" Michael managed to say, heart in his throat.

"That he loved you. And from what I've seen, that hasn't changed, has it?"

A part of Michael wanted to snap at him and tell him to mind his own business. Another part wanted to get down on his knees and beg him to tell him more.

"What did he say about me?" He found himself asking, voice barely above a whisper.

"That you're smart. Kind. That he- he was bleeding out in my arms and all he could talk about was you." Bradley sucked in a harsh breath, and Michael envied his ability to do that, because couldn't draw a single breath. "He was dying, and all he wanted was for you to know; practically begged me to be the one to tell you."

"That he loved me?" Michael's voice cracked, but he ignored it, eyes on the other man.

"That he'd died, Michael. He didn't want you to keep guessing, I think." Bradley looked him straight in the eye and Michael saw the tears that had gathered there. It made Michael feel better about the tears in his own eyes.

"If something does happen to you, half the town will know before I do and that's because no one would even think to tell me." He remembered saying on the last phone call they'd had, nearly four years ago.

He'd been angry when he'd said that; angry and afraid. The idea that his words had stayed with Alex, that he'd been thinking about him when he'd been bleeding, dying, broke his heart and mended it in the same breath. Not for the first time, he ached for him, for them, for everything they could have been and everything they could have had.

Michael stopped working on the car and sat down heavily in the chair next to him, and Bradley kindly offered him the rest of his beer, eyes forward, probably to give Michael the opportunity to breakdown in peace. But Michael didn't fall apart, he just drank the beer and then stood up to finish the work, not saying a word even when Bradley stood up and walked closer.

"I met Forrest yesterday. Between you and me? I'm rooting for you," he told him with a smirk, patting his shoulder twice before he left, leaving a stunned Michael in his wake.

......

It took two days for Michael to gather up the courage to talk to Alex. When he reached his house, he found him on a lawn chair, headphones in and his head bopping to the beat of a song only he knew. Michael stopped to stare at him, and really, it was ridiculous how far he was gone for the man that he was staring at the back of his head like a lovesick fool.

He took a few steps closer, until he was beside him and when Alex looked up and smiled at him, Michael smiled back automatically. "Writing another song about me?" He asked, teasing.

"No," Alex told him with a laugh. "I think that was a one time thing."

His disappointment must have showed on his face because Alex shook his head. "Not many people have a song written about them, you know, you shouldn't get greedy," he chided and stood up.

He didn't know what made him do it; maybe it was Bradley's words ringing in his ears- he was bleeding out in my arms and all he cared about was you. He wanted you to know; that he'd died.- but the second he was on his feet, Michael pulled him into his arms. When Alex didn't push him away; when he pulled him in tighter instead, Michael buried his nose in the juncture between his neck and his shoulder and took in a lungful of air.

"Are you okay?"

Michael nodded against his neck and Alex's arms tightened around him. He tried desperately to think of something to say, tried to pull away, but found that he couldn't.

"Is this about your talk with Bradley?"

Michael nodded again and buried himself further in Alex's arms.

Alex didn't seem to mind.

They stood like that for longer than they should have, but neither of them seemed to want to let go, so they didn't. Until, eventually, they had to.

"Want to come inside for a beer?" He asked him gently.

Michael wanted more than that. Michael Wanted to hold him until the image of him, bleeding out in Bradley's arms while Michael was blissfully unaware, stopped haunting him in his dreams. He wanted to ask him to sing him the song again, just to hear the rest of it, to be able to appreciate it, to have a reminder that Alex hadn't forgotten about him. Michael wanted to talk to him about the mistakes they'd made and the future they could still have together. But, like he had a month ago, he knew it still wasn't their time.

So he settled for accepting the beer. And being Alex's friend. He owed it to the both of them to try. And he owed it to Alex to back off and let him be happy with someone else since that was what he wanted.

"Yeah." He smiled. "Yeah, I'd love a beer."

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #EJ Writes

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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

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Chapter 17: Jon

Jon knows he should probably feel bad about this, but he’s too shaken to feel anything else. Part of him feels guilty for bolting and leaving the others behind. God knows they must be upset by what they just heard too. It isn’t just his fate Martin Prime laid out in a series of framed pictures.

But he needs space, he needs air. He needs a chance to think about what he heard before he does or says something utterly stupid, even for him. He needs to regulate his breathing and he needs something to soothe his nerves.

He taps a cigarette out of the pack he keeps in his glove compartment and puts the rest in his pocket, then lights it up and leans against the corner of the garage. The first shaking drag nearly makes him choke, as always, but he holds it for a moment before slowly expelling it in a puff of air.

“Those things will kill you, you know,” a too-familiar voice says from behind him.

Jon doesn’t look up. “Obviously not, if you’re still here.”

Jon Prime comes over and leans against the wall next to Jon, arms folded across his chest. He doesn’t say anything, merely stands there and watches the smoke curl up in paisley spirals.

“Want one?” Jon finally asks, more as a way to break the silence than anything.

Jon Prime shakes his head. “No, I quit ages ago.”

“So did I,” Jon says dryly.

“Yes, but I stopped even keeping a pack on hand ‘just in case’ or ‘for emergencies’. Martin doesn’t like it. Never said anything, but…with everything else trying to kill me, the last thing I wanted was him worrying that I’d manage to do it to myself. I haven’t touched a cigarette since…before we lost Tim.”

Jon glances at his counterpart out of the corner of his eye. He sounds…haunted, for lack of a better term. Not that Jon can blame him. Bad enough to have to listen to all that as it was, but Jon Prime had to live through it, and then have it served up like an art gallery. And to hear it come out of Martin Prime’s mouth…

He thinks about that, thinks about the sinking panic in his stomach when he thought about his—their—Martin having to go through half of what Martin Prime must have endured, thinks about the way the Primes clung to each other when they were first reunited and the way they’ve maintained some degree of physical contact almost constantly since. It all combines to make him ask, “When did you figure out what he meant to you?”

“Almost too late,” Jon Prime murmurs. He gives Jon the same sideways glance Jon just gave him. “It sort of…crept up on me gradually? I wish I could tell you that it came to me in a grand realization, some big, theatrical, dramatic moment, but…no, it was—” He pauses and lets out a soft sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “It was really such a small, stupid thing, but…no. The moment I realized…”

He returns to staring across the backyard, but Jon isn’t sure that’s what he’s actually looking at. “I was…trying to retrace Gertrude’s footsteps. Trying to piece together what she’d learned, what she’d been working on. At one point, she was at the Pu Songling Research Center in Beijing—it’s something of a sister organization to the Institute—and went from there to Chicago. I had a bit of time before the next flight out, so I thought—I was dying for a cup of tea. Hadn’t had a decent one in ages. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d been able to finish one. And here I was in the middle of one of the most well-known places for tea in the world. I decided to go to a nice teahouse and get the full experience. So I did.” He snorts softly and shakes his head. “I couldn’t finish it.”

Jon makes an interrogative noise. He isn’t really sure what to say to that, or how it connects to anything they’ve been talking about, but he’s willing to wait it out.

“Silly, isn’t it?” Jon Prime muses. “I—I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it. It wasn’t the quality of the tea, that was perfect. It was made exactly the way I like it. Hell, I even watched them make it, so it wasn’t fear of them accidentally poisoning it or whatever—so what could it be?” He sighs heavily. “And that’s when it hit me. I watched the woman make it. The woman. I realized, sitting in the middle of a crowded shop in one of the most populated cities in the world, that I could come up with as many excuses as I wanted, but the simple truth was that I hadn’t finished a cup of tea in two years that Martin hadn’t made for me.” He looks back at Jon, and his eyes are tight with self-reproach. “That was the moment I knew. And then, like a coward, I didn’t say anything for more than a year.”

Jon wants to say something, anything, but before he can, Jon Prime looks away from him again. “Oh, I told myself there were good reasons. I-I was away, I wasn’t going to say something like that over the phone, I had to wait until I saw him in person again. And then when I did get back to the Institute, we were in the middle of—we had work to do to save the world, we didn’t have a lot of down time, we had to—to plan, to prepare. A-and then, the, the night before we left for our mission…I told myself that wasn’t the time. I was going and Martin was staying behind—he had a plan of his own to carry out, and someone had to stay back, just in case the rest of us didn’t make it, and…I didn’t say anything, but I needed it to be him. I needed to know he was safe, even if the rest of us weren’t. But I convinced myself it wouldn’t be fair to burden him with that, to tell him how I felt and then just leave, because if God forbid I didn’t come back I didn’t want him to live the rest of his life knowing we never had the chance to—to explore what that meant.”

“And then?” Jon ventures.

Jon Prime closes his eyes. “The ninth picture.”

“You—we—” Damn, it’s hard to know how to say it. “A coma?”

“Six months. Nothing functioning except my brain. I—I had to make my choice. I chose to come back. But when I did…everything was different. Martin had—he’d taken another job in the Institute, to protect everyone in the Archives. To protect me. He had…he was working on a plan of his own, but…” Jon Prime sighs heavily. “I don’t know…”

“It’s not likely to happen now, is it?” Jon asks. “Whatever this is? You’re—we’re going to stop all this from happening, so what’s the harm in telling me?”

Jon Prime swallows. “Because it still hurts to think about. But…all right. Martin had managed to gather enough evidence to have Elias arrested—this was before we knew…the full extent of things, so we thought he was just a moderately clairvoyant, malicious ass—but Elias had anticipated…something of that nature, and laid plans ahead of time. He’d chosen Peter Lukas as a temporary successor. Actually there was a bet involved, but…I really don’t want to discuss that, and we didn’t find out until later anyway. But Peter Lukas was running the Institute. There were…attacks, and Martin finally made a deal with Lukas that he’d work directly for him if he would protect the others left behind in the Archives. Most of what he did was to protect us—to protect me, because he thought if he kept Lukas’ attention on him, it would keep the rest of us safe. And for the most part, he wasn’t wrong.”

“Lukas…as in, the Institute donors?” Jon thinks back to the statement of the young woman he’d rather brusquely dismissed. “The woman who—the funeral—wait a minute.” He compares the statement to the list of entities and ventures, “The Lonely?”

“It almost got him.” Jon Prime exhales shakily. “The Lukas family is…very wrapped up in the Lonely. Oddly, for such a large family, but…yes. He worked on Martin for months, and I—for a moment, I thought he was going to go over. But in the end, he didn’t. He stood up to him and chose not to. But as part of what he was doing to Martin—and what Martin was doing to protect me—we didn’t interact. Couldn’t.” He gives a small, humorless laugh. “The loneliness of distance.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s…the Keeper’s domain, actually. A mixture of the Lonely and the Spiral. That peculiar feeling when you’re separated from someone you love, and it—it should be so simple to cross that barrier, but you can’t. Maybe you’re physically separated, maybe an emotional gulf…maybe by necessity. But it’s coupled with the—the fear that if you do try to reach out…”

“They won’t reach back,” Jon says softly.

Jon Prime nods. “And it hurts. I-I mean, both of us wanted to close that gap, but…we were afraid to. Me because I was afraid I’d well and truly botched it and he didn’t want me to, him because it was the only way he could think of to keep me safe. Relatively, anyway.” He rubs the bridge of his nose. “We got lucky. We got that second chance.”

“So how do you feel about him?” Jon asks. It’s probably a stupidly obvious question, but honestly, his own emotions are still so mixed up that he genuinely doesn’t know how he feels, and knowing how Jon Prime feels…

Jon Prime unfolds his arms, straightens up, and looks Jon square in the face. “I love him,” he says, quietly but firmly. “He’s my anchor, my compass, the one thing keeping me human. He is the one person I trusted when I was at my lowest and the one person I wanted there when I was at my highest. He was the first one I told when I found out how to quit the Institute and the one who found a way to bring me out of the Buried when my own stupidity nearly trapped me there. He’s the reason I’ve made it this far and the only reason I have to continue. He is the most important thing in my life and I will do whatever it takes to keep him there.” He pauses. “And before you ask, yes, he does know all this. Now.”

That was, in fact, Jon’s next question. “And he…?”

“He feels the same.”

For just a moment, Jon feels dizzy. Could Martin…? But he’s not even sure if love is what he feels for his—their—Martin, not yet anyway. Could it be love? Maybe. Someday. But all hearing about his future self’s feelings has done is make him more confused. Still, he keeps pushing. “You haven’t…said anything, o-or done anything, since…” Even the way they clung to each other when they first were reunited could be construed as two friends, two people who’ve lost everything else, finding something familiar once again.

“And believe me, it’s killing us both.” Jon Prime reaches up like he wants to run his hands through his hair, then checks, evidently remembering the braid, and rubs his face instead. “I didn’t realize how comfortable I’ve become with being able to show that affection—to take comfort from him—until we were here and I couldn’t. God, when he was done giving his statement, I—I wanted to—” He gives a ragged sigh. “And don’t think for a moment I couldn’t tell how much effort it took to restrain himself to what little he did when I overdid things. We’re just…we got accustomed to being allowed to do that, I suppose. It never occurred to either one of us we’d be somewhere we couldn’t.”

“Well, why can’t you?”

“I don’t know if you realize just how bad Martin’s self-esteem is at times,” Jon Prime says quietly. “God knows we haven’t done him any favors. We worried that if you saw us together, then got together yourselves, your Martin would always harbor that little bit of suspicion that you’re only with him because you think you have to be.”

Jon swallows, but he cant really refute that assessment of Martin, mostly because he doesn’t know him as well as he’d like. It still rings true. “I—you know I wouldn’t—”

“I know. And my Martin knows that, too. He’s…as horrible as the next two years were for us, they definitely helped him forge his sense of self-worth. But yours still thinks you hate him.”

“I don’t—I never hated him. I—”

“Was projecting, yes. He called me on that and I copped to it. But it doesn’t change the fact that that’s what he thinks now. My Martin and I don’t want to risk damaging what you two could have by making either of you think it’s forced.” Jon Prime returns to lounging against the side of the building.

They fall into another long silence, Jon Prime sliding his hands into his pockets and watching the sky cloud over and Jon returning to smoking. There’s always a small amount of guilt when he sneaks a cigarette—which he really does far too often to claim he’s actually quit—but it’s worse than usual today. Or maybe it’s just that what he’s just sat through is too intense to be soothed with nicotine and menthol. He watches the smoke curl on the wind and thinks about the paintings.

Finally, he asks, “They all happened, then?”

“Yes.” Jon Prime’s voice is barely audible. “All of them. Including, thank God, the last one.” He pauses, then adds, “I’m—I know it’s selfish to say it, but if he had to be blinded, I’m glad that’s the last thing he saw.”

Jon understands that. “Anything would be better than the gallery of horrors. And…the last painting, the one he didn’t turn around to see. Do you…?”

“It was probably the moment I ended the world.”

“You ended—” Jon’s cigarette slips from his fingers. Stupidly, he grabs at it as it falls and manages to sear his hand. He curses softly and shakes out his hand, inspecting the cigarette. Somehow, it’s still lit. Wonders will never cease.

“Graceful,” Jon Prime says dryly. He starts to fiddle with the cuffs of his sweater, then tucks his hands firmly into his armpits, evidently to stop himself. “And yes. It wasn’t…exactly my fault, I suppose, but I was more or less the catalyst, at least.” He seems to debate with himself for a moment, then sighs. “We’ll explain a bit more when we’re back with everyone else—I don’t want to have to relive this more than once—but, broadly, the entities all have rituals, designed to bring them fully into the world and recreate it in their image, so to speak. The ritual for the Eye is called the Watcher’s Crown, and the Archivist is the keystone. Jonah spent three years preparing me, and then—well, he disguised the incantation to finish the ritual as a statement, and I didn’t discover it until I’d already started reading it.”

“You didn’t stop?”

“I—I tried. God knows I tried. But I physically couldn’t. Even from the beginning, I found it hard to stop recording a statement once it was begun, unless I was interrupted. I convinced myself for far too long that it was just work ethic or some such nonsense.” Jon Prime sounds bitterly amused. “I don’t know that I could have stopped myself without intervention. If—if I hadn’t been alone, if I’d asked Martin to stay in the room…he might have been able to snatch it away from me before I got to the second page. I don’t know. I can’t Know hypotheticals or the future or anything like that, but I-I’m terribly afraid that if he’d tried to interfere, especially once I got to the actual ritual, that I might have hurt him.” He closes his eyes tightly. “I-I wouldn’t have survived that.”

Jon presses his lips together for a moment, then takes another drag on the cigarette. He tries not to think about the possibility of hurting any of his assistants, let alone Martin. Even now, the very idea makes him flinch away in horror. How much worse would it be if he’d sorted through the tangle of emotions inside him?

“You didn’t—Tim and Sasha. That wasn’t you, right?” he asks, and could swallow his tongue. He almost does swallow the cigarette and holds it well away from himself to keep from doing something even stupider. “I-I mean—”

“It’s all right. It’s a valid question,” Jon Prime says quietly. He opens his eyes. Somehow, Jon isn’t surprised to see that they’re wet with unshed tears. “No, I never laid a hand on either of them. Sasha was—she was killed by the thing from Amy Patel’s statement, the one that was not her friend Graham. Tim died trying to stop one of the rituals. He—I didn’t want him to go. I definitely didn’t want him to do what he did, but…God, he was so angry. I-I think he needed to do it, but it hurt when I woke up and found out he was gone.”

Jon notes that whatever killed Tim—likely an explosion, since Martin Prime mentioned a detonator—also put Jon Prime in his coma, but he decides not to bring that up. Not now. He doesn’t want to think about losing any of his assistants. He can’t. “Please tell me you’re going to help me keep that from happening.”

“That’s our goal,” Jon Prime promises. “Well, our secondary goal at least. Obviously our main goal is to stop—”

“The world from ending. I know. Your Martin told us that.”

Jon Prime smiles, just a little bit. It takes Jon a second to realize that it’s the words your Martin that made him soften like that—that even though Jon meant it to distinguish Martin Prime from the Martin who could have died last night if the CO2 system had been a hair slower to trigger, a thought that’s going to haunt him for a while, he heard it as a possessive statement. Your Martin in the same sense as your partner, your reason, your love. There’s another uncomfortable flutter in Jon’s chest that he tries his hardest to ignore.

“But our other goal is to protect everyone we care about,” Jon Prime continues. “I—I am sorry that your Martin got hurt so badly. I am. I know what he’s going through, physically at least. We really were hoping to avoid any of you having to go through that. But if we can at least stop him—stop all of you—from going through the hell we went through…we’ll run whatever risk we have to.”

“Short of letting…Elias win,” Jon says. It seems safer to call him that for now.

Jon Prime hesitates, which surprises Jon. “I…I’d like to say yes. That stopping Jonah is more important than keeping you all from getting hurt. And certainly you’ll all suffer a great deal if he does win, but…God, I don’t know. If the cost is anyone’s life…I don’t know that I can pay it. Not again.” He takes a deep breath. “We have a good chance, though. Jonah doesn’t know we’re here, and as long as we can keep him ignorant, we should be able to catch him off-guard. And I know what to prepare for better now.”

“Wait, you’re following through the same plan you had post-apocalypse?”

“More or less.”

“Even though it obviously didn’t work?” Jon wonders what happens to him that he would consider trying something he knows is doomed to failure.

“It would have worked,” Jon Prime says. “I didn’t know for sure before we tried—like I said, I can’t Know the future—but what Jonah did made it clear that what we were going to do would have worked, and that he found the only method possible of stopping it.”

Jon knows he shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help himself. He wonders if it’s the power of the Eye or just his own natural curiosity, or maybe both. “What—what did he do?”

“He hurt Martin.” Jon Prime’s voice is quiet but raw. “Badly. I—I knew I could save him, but I also knew that going to Martin first would give Jonah enough time to get away, and we’d never get another chance to catch him unaware. And I knew that if I took Jonah down, even in the relatively short amount of time it would take to do that…Martin would be beyond help by the time I was done. I only had seconds to decide.” He looks up, and the pain in his eyes is evident. “Not a thing in me said to do other than what I did.”

The memory of Martin being wheeled out of the Archives on a stretcher hits Jon almost like a physical force. The panic, the desperate need to get to him, the sense of guilt, return as if he’s feeling them fresh. And that was with trained medical professionals on the scene. What Jon Prime is describing is infinitely worse. Jon Prime had to watch Martin Prime hurt, by someone he once at least marginally trusted, and know that he was the only one who could save him…but at the cost of the rest of the world.

And, honestly, Jon can’t condemn him. He doesn’t know what he’d do if faced with that situation himself. Truthfully, there’s a part of him that’s afraid he would hesitate for too long and lose both opportunities. He knows, with utter certainty, that he’d never forgive himself if he did. At least Jon Prime made a decision. At least he saved the man he loved.

“I—I think you did the right thing,” he manages.

Jon Prime huffs a soft laugh and folds his arms over his chest again, banging his head lightly back against the wall of the garage. “Martin didn’t think so. At first, anyway. He fussed at me for not stopping Jonah when I could, but…when I told him how little time he had, and pointed out I wasn’t even sure I’d get anything out of taking down Jonah but revenge, he let it go. Still don’t think he agrees it was the right choice, but he does at least understand it was the only choice I could have made.”

Jon doesn’t answer. He’s thinking about what that must feel like—to be the only ones left standing at the end of the world, to make a pact together to turn it back, to go through what must have been literal hell together, to see your happy ending on the horizon, and then to nearly have everything destroyed in an instant. If the chasm that opened up before him at the idea of losing Martin had been deep and vast, how unfathomable must it have been to Jon Prime? Especially knowing how close he must have come to losing Martin before that?

“What would he have done?” he finally asks. “If your positions had been reversed. If you’d been the one hurt. Would Martin have saved you and let…” He trails off. He still can’t bring himself to call his boss Jonah. That’s honestly the only thing he’s having trouble believing. That Elias Bouchard is in the service of an eldritch fear god, that he might want to end the world as long as he can be in charge of it, that he’s using Jon as a cat’s-paw to do so? Certainly. But that he might actually be Jonah Magnus, or at least possessed by him? No, Jon can’t quite buy that one yet.

Jon Prime looks unhappy. “I don’t know. Our plan relied—relies—on an ability Martin simply doesn’t have. So the likelihood of him being able to do anything to Jonah…I don’t know if he would have tried or not. He might have. Martin’s got a lot more pent-up rage in him than you might expect, and most of it is directed at Jonah. He’s hurt us both over the years, repeatedly, and I know Martin wanted revenge. I did, too, but…the difference is that I knew how precious little time there was before the damage done to him was irreversible. Martin wouldn’t have known that. He—he might have thought he could at least get one good stab in and then save me. You’ll have to ask him, but honestly, I don’t think even he knows.”

Actually, the thought that Martin—stammering, unassuming, inoffensive Martin—would attack a being that’s essentially a demigod with a knife to pay it back for hurting them is strangely comforting. The idea that Jon might have died as a result, less so. “So—why attack Martin and not you? What if you’d chosen differently?”

“I think he knew damn well I wouldn’t. And I think he knew there was a good possibility Martin would, which also tells me it would have worked, too. That Martin could have killed him. Then, too, there’s a chance that he couldn’t have actually killed me. The Eye may have liked me better than it liked Jonah. Certainly it seemed keen to keep me alive and functioning.” Jon Prime pauses, then adds on a small sigh, “But mostly, I think he attacked Martin because when he started picking at my confidence, started me doubting myself—again—Martin stood between us and refused to move.”

Jon coughs. “Wait, what?”

Jon Prime nods without looking at him. He folds his arms tightly over his chest, rolling the fabric of the sweater between his thumbs and forefingers. It’s a nervous tic Jon himself isn’t familiar with, and in a distant way, he wonders when it started. “It wasn’t—I won’t pretend it was like you might imagine in the movies. He was scared, I could taste how scared he was, and I know he was trying not to cry. But he stood in front of me anyway. He looked Jonah square in the eye and told him to fuck off. Told him he wouldn’t let him hurt me anymore and—” He breaks off and closes his eyes, pressing his lips into a flat line for a moment. “He wouldn’t budge. He didn’t take his eyes off Jonah when he told me that he’d stand in front of me as long as I needed him to, as long as it took for me to remember who I was, and that it wasn’t what Jonah had tried to make me.”

Jon can’t fathom what kind of courage that must have taken. “And that…what, angered Jonah so much that he wanted to hurt Martin?”

“Oh, no, he didn’t sound angry at all,” Jon Prime says bitterly. “He was perfectly calm as he told me that I ‘might want to reconsider my course of action’ as ‘time can be a precious resource, after all’.”

“And then?”

“And then he shot Martin.” Jon Prime slowly turns his head to look Jon square in the eye. “Three times. In the chest.”

Jon freezes. Everything seems to still down to a molecular level—heart, lungs, even his brain. Nothing exists beyond the words Jon Prime has just spoken and what they imply. At first, it’s focusing on the thought that Elias Bouchard shot Martin—that his boss, the man theoretically responsible for them and their well-being, leveled a gun at one of his assistants and fired it. Then the details catch up to him, and Jon somehow manages to forget how to breathe, despite the fact that he isn’t breathing to begin with. Not only did he shoot Martin, he shot him the same way Gertrude Robinson was shot, if Tim is to be believed. Spots begin forming at the edges of his vision.

He feels pressure on his shoulders and hears a voice that seems to crackle with static. “Breathe, Jon.”

Jon complies without realizing it. He inhales—exhales. Again. Again. The creeping darkness recedes, and Jon sees his counterpart standing before him, his eyes wet and anxious behind his glasses, matching his breathing to Jon’s. He has his hands on Jon’s shoulders—that’s the pressure he felt—and he’s shaking faintly.

“My God,” Jon whispers. “He—dear God.”

Jon Prime nods, infinitesimally. “Yes. He was—making a point. As much as—” He breaks off and closes his eyes again, but Jon sees a tear trickle out of the corner of his eye.

Jon swallows hard. “He killed Gertrude Robinson.”

“Yes.” Jon Prime takes a deep breath and opens his eyes again, looking a bit calmer but still shaken. “That…was not how I wanted to tell you that. But yes.” He pauses, then adds, “If you want more on that, you’ll have to wait until we can talk to everyone. They probably deserve to know.”

Jon isn’t sure he does want to know more about that. Or if there’s really that much more to be known. Still, he understands not wanting to talk about that more right now.

He reaches over and wipes the tear off of Jon Prime’s cheek. “He’s all right, though. I-I mean, you saved him. He’s alive. He’s…alive.”

“He’s alive, yes.” Jon Prime slowly releases Jon’s shoulders and takes a step back, giving them both a bit of space. “I—I was able to stabilize him. The Keeper appeared and offered us a relatively safe place to rest, and we were able to stay until Martin was well again, but…he’ll always have those scars, I think. They’re a bit worse than they would have been had he been given real medical attention, but I-I did the best I could. And…at least he’s alive. At least I still have him.”

Jon exhales and leans back against the wall. In light of everything he’s just learned…he can’t imagine how difficult the last week has been for Jon Prime. Being separated from the last person you knew from your previous life is bad enough, but to be separated from the person you love…especially so soon after a near-death experience…and then to not have any way of contacting him, of knowing how he was…it must have been absolute hell.

After a moment, Jon Prime says with a small, humorless laugh, “You know, I came out here to make sure you were all right, and I think I successfully made things infinitely worse.”

Jon thinks about that for a moment, then says, somewhat surprised, “Actually, I think you may have helped.”

“Really,” Jon Prime says, sounding skeptical.

“I-I mean—it’s bad. It’s very bad, what happened, and I—yes, all right, I definitely panicked a bit there. But…” Jon tries to figure out how to phrase it, then gives up and decides to just talk and see what comes out. “I didn’t even know why I came out here. Why I needed space. But talking to you, I—I think I figured it out. Listening to what you said…it wasn’t what you—we—went through that upset me. It wasn’t even hearing it spoken about. It was hearing Martin—well, your Martin—talk about it. I was more upset that Martin Prime had to go through that than I was that you did. And…” He sighs. “I still don’t know exactly how I feel, but…at least things make a little more sense now.” He looks over at Jon Prime. “I’m all right. Or as all right as I can be.”

“That’s…going to define the rest of your life, I’m afraid. ‘As all right as you can be.’” Jon Prime sighs. “Go ahead and finish that cigarette and we’ll go back inside.”

Jon Prime stares at the half-smoked cigarette in his hand for a long moment. He started smoking in university, more as a way of avoiding conversation than anything, and found it helped his anxiety. All his rather messy break-up with Georgie had done was cause him to switch brands, and all his grandmother’s nagging and disapproval had done was cause him to stop smoking indoors. He’d tried to quit after her funeral, but even though he rarely smoked more than one or two out of the packs he bought before he had to throw them out because they went stale, he never managed to actually stop. Truthfully, there were no external factors more powerful than the soothing nature of the nicotine.

But now…

Slowly, he raises his foot to his knee and grinds out the end of the cigarette on his heel. He pulls out the pack, tucks the cigarette into it, turns around, and drops the whole pack into the bin at the corner. Judging by the state of the bin, it’s almost trash day, so he hopefully won’t be tempted to dig around and rescue the pack later.

He turns back to see Jon Prime watching him with a genuine smile on his face. He doesn’t say anything, merely reaches over and gives Jon a hug. Jon is momentarily surprised, then relaxes into the hug and returns it. It’s a bit—there’s no other word for it—weird to be hugging himself, but at the same time, he needs physical contact more than he lets on and he hasn’t really had all that much in the last few years. The stress doesn’t go away, but it does ease back, a hell of a lot better than the cigarette managed.

After a moment, they separate. Jon Prime claps him wordlessly on the shoulder, and they turn to head back inside. To face whatever is coming next.

#leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#ollie writes fanfic #tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #smoking tw #gun violence tw (mentioned)#we have officially diverted from canon y'all #like this is compliant up to the last two minutes of today's episode #but after that we're forging our own path baby #elias bouchard is a rat bastard #like that's news

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penninstitute · 4 years

Text

Case #0200915

Statement of Chance V. Césaire, regarding his identity. Original statement given September 15th, 2020.

I don’t know who I am.

Well, that is a partial lie- my name is Chance. Chance V. Césaire, that is the one I go by now. It sounds nice, it rolls off the tongue smoothly and nicely. But I used to go by others- William Mercier was the first one I took up, and he was nice. Charming, even. Then he had to go away, I had to change to evade a chase, and then I became Édouard Lioncourt. He was kinder than William, even if the deeds he did were just as bad. Then there was… Francois Boucher. He was far angrier.

Francois did something that I, Chance, still cannot shake. And it’s been… mm, maybe a year at this point in time. I did not intend for him to become the focus of this statement, but, I suppose I cannot do much about it now. I’m sure you’re curious, yes? Far more interesting than my current identity crisis, hah.

I would like to make it clear that I steal things for a living. I hate to just confess to it, right here, right now, but it makes sense when it comes to my story. I would hope you don’t turn me in- then I’d have to shed yet another life, and I really do not wish to do so. I don’t consider myself evil, even though the authorities may find disagreement in that statement.

When I first became what I am- a thief, I mean, I swore never to steal a life. Those are not mine to take, I only take things from those who do not deserve their material possessions, but not something abstract like a soul. I- Chance is not a murderer. William was not a murderer, Édouard was not a murderer and Ars-

… Francois was different.

Francois came about when I nearly died. And Édouard actually did, shot in the shoulder. Bled quite a bit. The scar still aches, to this day, especially when it gets cold outside. But ah, I was mad when Édouard died and Francois came around. I think anyone would be mad if they got shot, don’t you think so? I suppose that fury became an influence on the persona, the act I put on for these- characters, I guess? I do not know what else to call them, because I was never them but they were always me. They were always me but those names never sat too right.

Whenever I take up a new name, though, no one recognizes me, despite the fact this handsome face never changes. Maybe I get a new suit or haircut, just to be sure, but each new name is a new person, every single time. It doesn’t help when you have to rebuild connections in a business such as mine, every time.

My excuse is that whoever the new one is, is a successor to the previous one- in a, well, have you seen the show, “Doctor Who”? Similar to that, how each new Doctor is, uh, a new person but generally the same person at the same time, just successors. I think Interpol believes that there’s some interconnected “thief ring” or something, when it is all just me. But that is, besides the point. I’m getting distracted, aren’t I? Je suis désolé… I should just get on with it.

Someone recognized Francois.

When I was at that party- one for the rich, at a mansion owned by some billionaire- and I heard a voice from behind call out, “...William? William Mercier?” my blood ran colder than it ever had before. I think I stopped breathing for a second.

I turned around and there was a man- a man I knew, one that I... but I wasn’t expecting the look of recognition in his own eyes. I hoped he would say that he thought I was someone else and move on, like everyone else, but he didn’t. Those ocean blue eyes widened as they met my own gaze and I felt like Édouard again- dying.

He ran to me, catching the attention of a few other partygoers as he did, nearly knocking me over from the embrace he pulled me into. He whispered that he missed me. That I scared him, and that I should never, ever disappear again. Of course, many eyes were on us by now, and I laughed. I said that was a preposterous idea.

“Why don’t we take this somewhere else?” I added in a forceful whisper, waving at the other patrons that there’s nothing to see here. He nodded, brushing a strand of brown hair out of his face. His… perfect face. I forgot how handsome he was, until then.

Dread crept its way into my stomach and up my spine and throughout my body as we walked, my hand clasped around his wrist. He continued to bombard me with questions, and I couldn’t answer. Not at the moment, anyway. I found an empty bedroom in the mansion, and closed the door behind us.

“William-” his voice cracked. “W- where have you been? It- it’s been three years, you- you disappeared, I don’t- I couldn’t find you- you promised me you’d never leave.”

“I know- I know, I’m- I’m sorry, Eagan-” is what I managed before being pulled into another hug. It felt… wrong, this time around. It felt weird in front of all those people, sure, but even stranger in private. Something within me- within, Francois began to bubble.

“I forgive you,” Eagan had sobbed into my shoulder, ruining a perfectly good suit, but I didn’t care about that. Not at that minute anyway, I cared about the fact that this had never happened before. I was terrified.

He pulled away and I looked into his eyes, and he looked into mine- and I suppose he didn’t see excitement as he’d hoped. Eagan brought a hand to the side of my face, cupping my cheek, but I leaned away from his touch. Confusion crossed his features.

“Wh… what’s wrong?” He asked.

“You shouldn’t recognize me.”

“William, what do you mean- of course I recognize you! I lo-”

“My name isn’t William,” I snapped back, my tone much harder than intended. “And you shouldn’t recognize me. I’m not who you once knew, Eagan, that man is dead. You sh- shouldn’t know me, not anymore.” I found my hands gripping his shoulders with a tightness I don’t think I’d ever have the strength for.

“Is… Is something going on? Y-you’re scaring me,” a shaky statement escapes his lips. “You vanished, William, I was so scared, I thought you died o-or worse, where have you been?”

A moment of silence passed between the two of us as panic continued to rise in me, making the air feel so much heavier. It felt like a pressure, and it was telling me- telling Francois to do something about this. My whole career revolves around my ability of hiding in plain sight, and if someone was able to spot me, then- then my life is on the line, fear clawed at my chest and then-

Then, I-

Then, Francois-

...

Hah, did not think this part would be as difficult as it is to, talk about.

My- his- my hands clasped around the soft flesh of Eagan’s throat, and I squeezed, thumbs pressing into his windpipe. He struggled, for a minute, before going limp in my grip. I did not know there was that much strength inside my flimsy arms, but out of the sheer terror I felt, I just- I don’t know, I don’t know. I felt the life drain from him beneath my hands, the heat drained from his form, and I saw the light leave his eyes.

I sat there for what seemed like… ages. Just, calming down from the rage that filled me, waiting, desperately for Eagan to wake up. I couldn’t have killed him, could I? Why? Because I got upset that someone knew who I am? I’ve gone so long without people remembering me, thinking whoever I was just died or vanished, never to be seen again, and it scared me. That someone I cared for just as equally did the impossible and then.

I just killed them.

Francois ceased that night, when I left that room, when I abandoned that corpse I so foolishly stole the spark from to feed my own fire.

I, er…

I don’t know who I am anymore. I claimed to be a good man, once. I did everything I do in the name of my own definition of good, I stole from the rich and gave to the poor. I used to be Ar- I. Used to be Ars..

I don’t even remember his name, hah. I’m sure it’ll come back, fleeting as always. All I know is I used to be four other people and then they all died and got replaced by this current persona. Chance. Chance V. Césaire, that’s who I am, for now. Chance is me but I’m not Chance. I don’t think I have a name anymore. I don’t think I deserve one.

I don’t think I’m human either, not anymore. After… everything. I don’t know what I am, just this thing that wears names like clothes, this thing that tricks and deceives and ruins the lives of anyone that dares to get close to it. It owns this face but it doesn’t belong to it, not really. It’s like a mask, a mask I never put on and it burns.

I want to take it off.

FOLLOW-UP NOTES

This isn’t the first we’ve seen of individuals or creatures changing identities to a supernatural degree, and I’m sure it won’t be the last time we see it, either. This one is... interesting, I guess? It’s not like Natasha, where the creature literally... changes its appearance and identity.

From what I can see here, the appearance never actually changed. It was just the name--I had Felix do a bit more research, and all of the names listed were, in fact, real people, but finding any real trace of them is difficult.

If Mr. Césaire is still around, I imagine it’ll be very difficult to find him for a follow-up interview.

#statement #0200915 #tma #the magnus archives

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angelliev · 4 years

Text

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Seventeen - Home Sweet Home

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: Aria is given the opportunity to meet her real dad. Aria and JJ are both in for a pleasant surprise.

Warnings: Smut. Typos probably?

A/N: I don’t have that much to say. I just want to thank you everyone for liking, following, and especially reblogging. Your support means so much to me when you guys share this with others, because it truly helps. That will be all, I hope you guys enjoy, and stay safe my lovies. ;) (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own the show or any of theses characters.)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

3 Months

Every bone in my body is shaking as of now. My feet would not stop tapping away as JJ drove the car. He takes notice of my nervous state. “Babe, you’re shaking so hard, the baby’s rocking.” I just chuckle nervously. “What’s up babygirl?” He asked placing a hand on my bare thigh, the warm gesture erupts butterflies in my stomach.

“Nothing, I’m just really nervous to meet him.” I confess, referring to Jamie, my real father. Today is the day I get to meet him for the first time. We’re having dinner with him and my mom. “C’mon babe, you have nothing to worry about. He’s going to love you. He already does.” JJ attempts to reassure me. “But what if he’s disappointed in me about the pregnancy. He’s going to be a grandfather in six months, that’s got to come as a shock to him.” Despite being fully aware of who my biological father is and having many opportunities to meet him, I always kept avoiding, out of fear that he’d already disown me.

“Aria, he is not Claude. Everyone in the cut knows he’s a nice guy. He’s tranquilo. Most easy going guy I’ve ever met. Plus, you're a spectacular woman. He’d be crazy not to love you. I know I do.” JJ gives me one of his infamous winks, making me blush. It feels just like yesterday, when we met and he was already making me weak in the knees with his flirtatious compliments. He really knows how to make a girl’s heart throb.

I attempt to reach back and grab my purse from the backseat, but JJ stops me from doing so. “Whoa whoa. Hold your horses babygirl. I’ll get it for you.” He reaches back himself once we hit a red light. I just roll my eyes at him. “I’m pregnant. Not crippled.” JJ ignores my comment. “Exactly, which means you shouldn't be doing hard work.” My eyes roll once again as I retrieve my breath mints. I take one more in my hand, before leaning over to JJ. My fingertips skim over his warm lips, which he gladly opens up for the minty goodness, his moist tongue skims my nails.

I giggle and peck his lips. He smiles and hums. “God, I wish we were behind closed doors. The things I’d do to you would leave you in a moaning mess.” His hot breath fanned my face. “Don’t worry lover boy, I’m gonna take good care of you.” I say seductively, my hand cups his growing bulge. He nearly melted under my forbidden touch. “Baby, you don’t have too.” It doesn't stop me from unzipping his shorts and pull down his boxers. “I want to. You're so stressed lately, with all your work, let me help you relax.”

I take him in my hand, causing him to release a relieved sigh. All of his pent up tension and stress seemed to melt away when I wrapped my luscious lips around his tip. The taste of his pre cum invaded my taste buds immediately. His left hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, and the other one explored my brown locks, as I took him in deeper. My pink flushed cheeks began to turn a dark crimson red. The pool of wetness began to grow in silky velvet folds. I couldn't stop my hands from slipping under my skirt and caress the sensitive bud. JJ’s breaths began to falter, his moans grew louder, and his hips bucked erratically. Tears began to escape my glossy eyes as he hit the back of my throat.

“Babe, I’m so close. I'm gonna,” But before he could finish, his sweet hot cum filled my mouth. I let it run down my throat and my proudly when my lips leave his shaft. I look up to see JJ out of breath and his cheeks dusted pink. “All better?” I asked. “Yeah. Whoa.” He huffed glancing over at me. “You didn’t cum.” He stated, voice filled with guilt. “It’s okay, really. You needed it. You're so stressed these days. I can tell you needed some kind of release.” I reassured him. He’s been working so hard lately with overtime, desperately trying to make more money. He hasn’t spent a single penny on weed, and he just ran out, making him super antsy.

“Let me return the favor babygirl.” He insisted, before slipping his expert hand under my skirt, replacing mine. He wastes no time to work on my sensitive bud and luscious folds. I loved the way his hands always brought me satisfaction and warmth. His fingers curling inside me found my hidden spot, making bite my lip and mewl. I can practically feel myself flirting with the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into the pit of ecstasy. “JJ, I think I’m gonna cum.” I say through breathy moans. “Go ahead baby, let it go.” His words were all the motivation I needed to fall off the edge, diving into the pit of ecstasy and let the euphoria crash over me.

JJ removes his glistening fingers that shined in the light, before taking them in his mouth, licking them clean and enjoying the taste of me. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of your sweetness when we get home.” I giggle while fixing my appearance before pulling into the driveway of the small and cute home. That’s when my nerves settled in again.

“You’ve got this baby. I’ll be right by your side the whole time. Don’t worry.” He says before pulling me into a comforting kiss, the lingering taste of myself still lingered on his lips. “Thank you JJ. You’re my biggest cheerleader. I love you. You know that right?” My hands caressed his cheek. “I know. You make that well known when you're moaning under me.” He says making me laugh. “Alright, settle down lover boy, before it gets too steamy in here.” I exit the car not wanting to tempt myself, as I fight the urge to pounce on him again.

It felt like an eternity standing on the porch, waiting for someone to answer the door. The anticipation was piratically killing me. My life was in slow motion as the door creeped open, finally revealing the face of the man I never knew. My had been breath caught in my throat when I saw him. It was like looking in a mirror, except it was a male. All these years I resembled someone else. How did I not see this before.

“You must be Aria.” Jamie smiled cheek to cheek as he held out his hand for me to shake, which I gladly accepted. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The two of us stepped into the warm and welcoming home. “Pleasure is all mine, and JJ you must be the boyfriend.” Jamie pulls him into a hug. “How’s life treating you Wilson? Did you get the boat fixed?” JJ asked curiously. It was nice to know that the two already knew each other and were quite friendly. I couldn't help but feel slightly jealous at the fact that JJ knew my father more than me.

“Hey kids. You two are just in time. Dinner is ready.” My mom entered the room, apron still on. “JJ, could you please help me set the table?” Elaine asked sweetly. “Of course.” The two enter the dining room, leaving Jamie and I alone. He was the first to speak.

“I’m really happy that you agreed to come. I’ve been waiting for yours to finally meet you and get to know you.” He confessed, tears had threatened to spill, which he unfortunately noticed. “I’m sorry if I was moving too fast or startled you with this.” He apologized. “No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. This is all just really new to me. My life has been spiraling out of control lately.” I chuckle.

“How’s the baby?” His question made my eyes widen in surprise. “The baby is doing great. Um, I wasn’t aware you knew.” “I tried seeing you at the hospital, but clearly I arrived at a bad time. Your mother told me about the baby.” He explained. “What do you think about it?” I asked nervously. “At first I was in shock. Then I was upset,” The words made sick for a moment. “When I learned that Claude had kicked you out.” This brought me relief. “I couldn’t believe he was so cruel towards you. You didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve you either.” Memories of Claude had stormed my brain. He hasn't even bothered to call and ask if I was okay. Years of him raising me had been thrown out the window.

“I’m so sorry that I wasn't there for you growing up, and I want to make it up to you for all those years, if you would let me.” His eyes were filled with desperation. “Of course. I want to make this work, and thank you.” “For what?” He asked confused. “For accepting me.” He just smiles warmly. “Always. Now let's go eat. Your mom has whipped up something good.”

I genuinely enjoyed getting to know Jamie over dinner. He was filled with love, warmth and humor. I could see why people liked him so much. He was an amazing storyteller, everyone at the table paid attention, full of excitement. He never failed to make me laugh.

“So how did you two meet?” Elaine motioned between Jamie and JJ. The two share a laugh. “JJ was riding his bike one day, trying to outrun some kids.” Typical JJ. “He used a ramp to jump over a fence, losing the kids. He was too busy teasing the kids, he didn't see the parked firetruck in front of him, causing him to crash into it and broke his nose.” Laughter had erupted at the table.

“I think he was six at the time. We took him to hospital, he got to ride in the fire-truck that day. You should've seen the smile on his face. It was adorable even with all the blood dripping from his nose.” JJ smiled at the memory. “What have you been up to these days son?” Asked Jamie. “Working mostly. I’m just trying to save up money for the baby. I’m working multiple jobs now.”

“Have you ever given any thought to becoming a firefighter?” This immediately caught my attention and JJ’s. “Would that even be possible for me?” He asked hesitant. “Yeah, you have a high school diploma. I would highly recommend you’d get associates degree program in fire science, and EMT classes. Then there’s the fire academy.” Jamie explained.

“I can’t afford to go to college. I don’t think I’d be accepted by any.” He said. “There’s always community college. It’s a lot cheaper too. I could pay for your tuition with no problem.” My mom offered. “I couldn't ask you to do that. You’ve already done so much.” JJ attempted to decline her offer. “Please, it's the least I can do. I care about you too JJ, and I want the best for you, just like my daughter. You’re family now.” I could see the shock in JJ’s eyes when he heard what she said. His heart almost melted right there.

“I’ll need some time to think about it. Thank you.” This seemed to please my mom. JJ and I help gather the plates and silverware, clearing the table and washed the dishes. When JJ and I walked back out to the dining room, we saw my mom and Jamie putting on their coats. “Where are you guys going?” I asked curiously.

“We have a surprise for you two. Come on.” Jamie answered and grabbed his keys. JJ and I shared a confused look, but followed them outside. I give JJ a suspicious look as he follows behind their car, going who knows where. “Are you in on this?” I raise an eyebrow. “I'm just as clueless as you are babe. I’m looking forward to see what the surprise is.” He answers excitedly. “That makes two of us.”

We finally reach our destination, still in the cut, we pull into the driveway of this beautiful baby blue two story home. There was a small, yet cute front yard and trees surrounding the land, giving the home some privacy. We exit the car and meet up with Elaine and Jamie who were wait on the front porch. “Mom, you bought a new house for yourself?” I asked admiring the interior, which was painted a nice creme color.

“Nope. I just moved in with Jamie.” She answered with a gleaming smile. “So, whose house is it?” I asked confused. “It’s your guy’s” She tossed the keys into the air, which JJ caught flawlessly. Words couldn't even express the exhilaration coursing through our bodies. The two of us stand there in surprise. “Are you serious right now?” I asked, not believing any of this was true. I have to be dreaming right now.

“100%. It’s all yours. It’s a four bedroom and three bathroom home. If you go outback, you’ll see that you're right next to the marsh. This house isn’t too far from John B’s.” My mom explained. “Mom, I don’t know what to say. This is amazing! Oh my gosh! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” I exclaim cheerfully, hugging her. JJ was still in pure shock.

“You’re welcome love. Jamie and I wanted you guys to have a nice home for you and the baby somewhere on the cut, close to us and your friends.” It took everything in me not to burst out in tears right there. “C’mon, we want to give you a tour of the house.” She nudged me.

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a second. I want have a word with Jamie.” I said. “Of course. JJ?” The two left the room and gave us some space. “What’s up kiddo?” Asked Jamie. I decided to answer with a tight warm hug instead of words. His body had stiffened out of surprise, before relaxing and returning the hug. The hug felt right and comforting. Nothing like the cold hugs that rarely gotten from Claude growing up. This felt right. These were the fatherly arms that were supposed to hold and comfort me. A smile and happy tears decorate my face.

“Thank you Dad.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj x oc #obx netflix #obx fanfiction

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #369

“so close, no matter how far / couldn’t be much more from the heart / forever trusting who we are / and nothing else matters”

What are three emotions you experience regularly? Sadness, shame, and stress. Is there someone right now whom you really wish would care for you? -___- Does your job allow visible tattoos? I don’t have a job, but quite honestly, I probably wouldn't take a job that didn't. I just love tattoos a lot and plan on having many, and ignorance and old-fashioned bullshit isn't gonna stop me. Do you know anyone that’s transgender? Yes. Do you think dress codes are unfair? In some places, like schools, yes. Are in a relationship? Tell me about it. I'm not. How is your road rage? I don't have road rage. By god does my sister, though. Favorite cosmetic brands? I don't wear makeup nearly enough to have a preference. The beach or the pool? The pool. I hate the feeling of sand, plus the salty wind and heat. Manga or anime? Anime. Favorites for manga? I've never read any. It's tempting to read Deadman Wonderland since it continues off the very short anime, but I just don't want to. Manga isn't my style. Favorites for anime? Fullmetal Alchemist (including Brotherhood), Ginga Densetsu Weed, and Deadman Wonderland. Favorite academic subject? English. A card game that you’re good at? I'm not exceptionally good at any. Do you eat breakfast? Pretty much always. A popular book you haven’t read yet? To Kill A Mockingbird, to name one I feel like everyone had to read in school. Do you like sweaters? I'm an oversized hoodie person, really. I don't like the look of zippers. Do you like sushi? Never tried it, never will. Do you wear prescription glasses? Yes. I badly need a new pair, because I can't see for shit. Generally, are you more likely to blame others or yourself for problems you experience? Myself. What is one thing about your life that you don’t ever see changing, even if you might wish it would? I have a feeling I'll always have some degree of social anxiety. I'm sure there are other things just not coming to me. At what point in your life have you been the most social or had the most friendships? And at which point have you been the least social? I had the most friends in my childhood years, probably. Or high school when I actually had a friend group. I'm sure I was most social as a kid in elementary school, not dealing with my social anxiety. I've been the least social like... now, honestly. I go essentially nowhere and have very few friends. Do you prefer to have a few close friends or a bunch of random acquaintances? Which would describe what you have now? I want close friends. I have like... two or so close friends and a handful of acquaintances. I don't know which I have "more" of when you consider the actual level of friendship/"quality" I guess. Do you journal? Generally, what do you write about? Do you find it helpful to get your thoughts out that way, or do you prefer another form of self-expression? I don't actually journal, but you could consider these surveys my "journal." I guess it's kinda why I do them so frequently? Like it lets me get stuff that's going on out, so I find it kinda therapeutic versus keeping all my thoughts jumbled up in my head. Have you ever been somewhere and REALLY didn't like a food that you were expected to eat? How did you deal with this? Are you someone who is likely to suck it up and be polite or refuse and save your taste buds? To start off, I am VERY bad at sucking it up and eating something I don't like. My gag reflex is very strong, and I'm also extremely sensitive to textures I don't like, so my reactions are just very involuntary. I can try to subdue my expression when I dislike something, buuut that's extremely difficult. But anyway, yes, I've been to places where I definitely disliked the food, especially this one occasion where we went to a local Southern cooking restaurant that literally ASSUMED you want the staple foods and sweet tea, none of which I enjoy. While everyone else was eating, I just very awkwardly sat there doing nothing and pretty much panicking over looking rude. Thank god, Ashley's father-in-law noticed and called over the waiter for me to actually order something, the way it should be. I was very thankful but still felt bad. What is one way in which you compare yourself to others? In this comparison, do you regard yourself as better or worse off than the people to whom you usually do the comparing? I am very bad and comparing successes with others, but only in ways that demeans me. Like I look at others and am just like, "Why aren't I there yet?" It always leads to anger and disgust of myself. What is something you’ve been particularly grateful for lately? I've thought a lot lately about how thankful I am to have my mom. She does so very much for me, and I don't think I could absolutely ever repay her in full. I wish I could. She's a damn superhero. What kind of change or opportunity would be the biggest help in your life right now? I was initially going to say getting a job, but thinking about it, getting to my goal weight might be an even greater help. It would help my leg pain, not having to carry as much around, I'm sure my hyperhidrosis wouldn't be as bad (I hope), and it would MASSIVELY affect my happiness. Like I cannot tell you how negatively my weight has damaged my self-esteem, confidence, and peace with myself. Is there one emotion that you experience more often than any other? Is there an emotion you rarely ever experience? I'd say I experience stress more than anything. I'm always thinking of something that's causing a ruckus in my life. A rare emotion for me is uhhhh jealousy, even though I've dealt with it more lately. What is one illness you are afraid of having? Do you know anyone who has faced this illness? The disease that I think scares me more than any is Alzheimer's/dementia. I just... cannot possibly imagine. How do you tend to behave when you’re sick? What kinds of things do you like people to do for you, if anything, to help you feel better? I'm very mopey and tired, and I can be a bit more irritable. I really, really appreciate help with things like chores when I'm not feeling well. When was the last time you did something you were proud of? Were other people proud of you as well? Does it matter to you whether or not other people care about your accomplishments, or is your own satisfaction enough? It's a very small thing, but I weaned down from having two cans of soda a day to just one. Mom is proud of me for it, which I appreciate a lot. Admittedly, it does kinda matter to me that those who know it's a big deal to me see and care about my accomplishments. I'm bad about needing external validation. What is your least favorite thing about the season you’re currently experiencing? Are you okay with most types of weather, or are you only happy under certain conditions? Ugh, the heat. Spring and summer are miserable to me because I veeery much love the chilly weather and no damn humidity. Have you made any changes to your style or “look” lately? How often do you change your appearance, hairstyle, fashion, etc? Or is it a pretty constant thing? No; my style is pretty constant. What was the last thing you felt hopeful about? Do you think there’s a good chance of whatever-it-is working out in your favor, or not so much? Getting a job at the tattoo parlor. I'm fearful that they won't be open to the position I'd like, so I'm trying to not get my hopes up too high. We'll find out in two days. Have you ever “recovered” from anything? What does “recovery” mean or look like to you? Yes, a traumatic breakup. I'd say recovery is just healing as much as possible from something, be it physical or emotional. What are some ways your childhood differed from those of others around you? Do you think this difference was harmful or advantageous in the long run? My dad was an alcoholic, if that qualifies. That definitely isn't a *normal* thing for someone's childhood. I think it was harmful, honestly, especially because I've had more than a few nightmares about my dad drunk. When was the last time you did something out in nature? Do you notice a dip in your mood when you don’t get enough of the Great Outdoors? Oh jeez... Probably not since Sara and I went catfishing with my dad. I wandered around with her some as she ventured for toads, haha. I don't really notice a dip in my mood, just because I'm so used to being indoors. I do prefer getting some time with nature, it's just hard and uncomfortable with how easy I sweat, and my knees sure do cuss me the fuck out in the form of a billion cracks if I walk much (by my standards...). What did you dream about last night? I had two dreams, but I only remember one, in which a giant green tree python was eating me backwards so I was conscious through it all. No hard feelings, I still want one as a pet, haha. They're GORGEOUS snakes and no, absolutely cannot eat you even if it tried its damnedest. What were your childhood dreams? To be a paleontologist, then a vet. What are your dreams now? If we're talking career-wise, to be a nature and wildlife photographer that gets to travel a lot. What are some Halloween costumes you would like to wear in the future? I've mentioned that #1 on my list is Ms. Oogie Boogie, then uhhhh... wow, I'm surprised I'm blanking, because I know there are lots I've thought of. Were you born with hair on your head? Yes. Would you rather have a home birth or hospital birth? I'm not having kids, but holy mother of fuck I'd have my baby at a hospital with a goddamn epidural. I do NOT know how some people can do it naturally, bigass props to them. Do you currently live in the house you grew up in? No. If not, what do you miss about it?^ It was just in general a nice house, the best one we've lived in. We had a pretty big yard too, so lots of room to play around as kids. What’s your favorite type of yogurt? I'm not a big yogurt person, really. What were your high school’s team colors? Red and white. Who were your best friends in high school? Hannia, Girt, Maria, Megan, Dennis, Dakota... What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? A tarantula. *puppy eyes emoji* Were there any subjects in school that were really easy for you? If so, what? English courses were very easy for me, and I was pretty good with science. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? Not like, a whole grade, but I surpassed Writing I in my last college endeavor and started out in Writing II instead. What’s your favorite rock band? Oh brother, you can't ask me this. Who’s your favorite country singer? I consistently like Tim McGraw a bit. How many drawers does your dresser have? My dresser is unnecessarily big. There's like five or six. Have you ever taken a picture at the perfect moment? Yes. One of my favorite pictures I've taken was at Ashley's gender reveal for Emerson; even she didn't know. When her husband pulled the fog thing and it was pink, her expression was just priceless. Was your first car used or new? I haven't had my first personal car. How did you discover your favorite band? By going through my mom's CDs when I was getting into rock music. Ozzy was the first truly metal and not rock band that I ventured into. What was the last big decision you made? BIG decision... I don't know. Probably dropping out of college. What is your favorite thing to go shopping for? I love window shopping for pets online, haha. What was the last thing you changed your mind about? A political stance. Who was the last friend you saw, and what did you do together? Oh yikes, it's been more than a while... It may have been Girt? In which case we probably watched TV or played board games together. Who tends to show up in your dreams? Do you ever wonder if you appear in anyone else’s dreams? Jason just loves to show up in my dreams more than anyone else. I don't really wonder that, no. What is something you wish you could say to someone who is no longer in your life, or something you wish they could know? I wish I could tell Bryar (Jason's friend I got in a fight with) I misunderstood something he said to me ("martyr" has two different definitions, and I somehow didn't know the modern one at the time) that made me seem like an absolute, attention-seeking bitch. It's so fucking embarrassing to look back on, because I agreed with him because I thought he meant it as I would die for my beliefs, which is true. What worries you most about your future? Whether or not I'll ever be in the physical shape I want to be in again. Or if I'll have a stable job. What is something you do to feel better when you’re scared? Find distractions, like funny YouTube videos. I also engage in deep breathing and grounding methods. What is the strangest book you have ever read? How did you find out about it? Oh my god, in elementary school, we read a book where everything a boy touched turned to chocolate. Weird book. Do you prefer to watch movies or tv alone or with other people? Is there anything you refuse to watch alone? Other people, definitely. I like having someone to talk to and comment on what we're watching. There's nothing I won't watch alone. What was the subject of the last video you watched? It was a let's play.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''nothing else matters'' by metallica

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naturaldisasterfanfiction · 4 years

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25. Part 4

This reminds me of the time I got back with Chris, they had this type of meeting and then told me I was going on a seven day tour, which was done on purpose. We shall see anyways, I am waiting for them both to come into the conference, I have Jen and Tina here again “it’s pretty funny how the blogs pick up on the worse part of things, like what does Chris got to do with the arrest bullshit. It’s annoying to see that, like they can’t just say positives. And they are clutching at your name, they are talking about the time when you nearly went broke, I don’t get it. And they mentioned Drake” I closed my eyes shaking my head “that is nice, I am just going to ring Chris” I need to see if he is making movements, when I called him an hour ago he said he was packing some things, I hope he is done by now. I want him here, I got Tina to send Rich to Chris so he can get him over here, well just to see if he is ok to be honest while he comes here, some company “are you making movements to come here now? What are you doing?” I think he is at home still, it’s very quiet there “yes, Rich is here. But like I have cameras outside my home” rolling my eyes, figured “just waiting for the SUV to come and then I will be coming, I packed a lot of my things. Mijo, what are you doing here?” Chris said “it’s crazy out here, I came for you. You good?” least Mijo is there, that is a positive “they hate me out there, you hear that? Like I did bad” seeing both Jay’ have come onto the conference “Chris, I will call you back” I said to him, disconnecting the call. You know what this is like history repeating itself, I feel like I have been through this with them and they made me so busy, but I took it because I was stupid, and it ruined us.

Everyone is pretty quiet on this chat, they not saying anything. I mean they haven’t spoke “what the fuck” Jay Brown finally did “at what?” rubbing my bump, I feel the pain. I am feeling it “this whole thing, I really thought you was over Chris Brown. A lot of people are over that man Rihanna, I mean he brings nothing to the table. He just got arrested last night?” I sniggered “he didn’t get arrested, wrong place at the wrong time so next time don’t read the blogs. Nobody brings up that Jay, well both of you have both hit women, I mean you have paid off every person, but everyone wants to drag the guy that is not well, you are bullying him. I won’t have it, I won’t have the blogs putting him down, I won’t have you using him for Tidal events, you say people are not looking for him when they are! When you fucking sing his songs, sorry it was not the Jew” I sound like Chris, that very moment I caught myself speaking like my husband “I thought it was Drake, and he is well. He’s well enough to act the way he does” Jay Z said “oh you got a degree on peoples mental state now or did you pay off the specialist also to say he hasn’t got it. I am not going to get rid of the father of my child. It happened, I slept with the man I know, the man I do love. So what, if you had the chance to sleep with Aaliyah again I am sure you would” Jen gasped, Jay Z sighed out “it’s about you though Rihanna, this is about your life, you are pregnant by the guy people dislike” I am angry “and fuck them! I don’t fucking care, it’s about me and my daughter. And what is good for my daughter” I don’t care for them, they can dislike him all they want “we have been talking and you on your own with this” I laughed shaking my head “I never asked for any of you, I expect a lot of blocks now. Just like you did before, don’t worry. You will see, I am done. I am off this shit, disconnect it” I got up from the chair, I don’t need this.

Stretching my back breathing out, I don’t need the headache. They told me; I am on my own. They won’t help me clear anything of my name because I am not doing it their way, I am ok with that. I built myself this way, I did this for myself, I can do it. Roc Nation will see it, they will see what they have done to me and how I will rise up. I never fought back with them over Chris, I am now. It was so pointless, all they wanted to do is check on me, to see where my mind is at. Then they could pick at me, but they saw me, they saw I was too strong for that, now they will need to go back to the drawing board “I will not have them disrespect my family! What are they going to do kill him? I mean I wouldn’t put it past him” let me not say that “Jay Z does have his people, I guess” Dennis said “I want Chris here, I need him here because he is my rock” I just didn’t need him here, people getting at him alone “is he coming , Robyn sit down please. Don’t walk around like that. I am worried for you” my mom is worried for me “people are coming for my family mom” my mom got up from the couch “don’t” I walked off, I don’t need a hug right now because I am so heated by all of this “Jay Brown” Dennis said passing my phone to me, what does he want now. Taking my phone from him “what is it?” I said “we don’t want to fight; I don’t want this with you. You have picked what you want Robyn and all I am saying is that we can’t help with the rumours, but I am seeing a lot of backlash. You are his third baby mother Robyn, we just wanted better for you” clearing my throat as I paced into the next room “I know what I am Jay and it’s not that ok? Trust me, you’re either with me or against me, I don’t need Roc Nation, you know this. You need me” this is why he has called me, he needs me “you’re right” Jay said “and the team will advise what to do next, I am sure Tina has said about posting another? Talk soon” Jay put the phone down, did I break them. I think I did, maybe they see this is a different Robyn.

I am glad to hear Chris on the jet, Rich said he is asleep, so I left it at that. Now I am just sat here seeing that I am on a news channel, weird that I am on a news channel for just doing nothing special “popstar Rihanna has announced she is expecting a baby girl with her former lover Chris Brown, she is currently living in London where it was seen to have caused some controversy when her former partner had his cars delivered” the news reporter said, they really doing this on me. I mean I didn’t see no news cameras outside my home but they are interviewing my neighbours “how do you feel that Rihanna is living here?” the guy asked “it’s Rihanna, who would be mad at that” the guy laughed, rolling my eyes “they do get more and more stupid, so how do you think they are going to feel when I tell them I am married. I realised that I never told Jen that, I maybe need to tell her” I hissed out “my god, that hurt!” I shouted, my mom jumped off of the couch and came over to me “are you ok?” my mom rubbed my back, that really winded me, I am breathing heavily “yes, I think she is just ready to come. I am not sure, this is not good for me, and thanks. I need my back rubbed” I have missed that; my mom kissed the back of my head.

I thought I would get into bed early; Chris will be arriving here in the early hours and I want to be awake for him, so I am in bed. I am going to call Jen first; she deserves to know but I hope she understands “how is my big baby mother?” Jen said, I laughed out “she is not doing great Jen, she is stressed out. Need some sleep, so I am in bed already” I am knackered, I feel so sleepy “get rest, I saw you pulling faces. The very faces I pulled, Braxton hicks kicking in?” I have no idea what that is “what is that?” I questioned “your body is preparing itself for birth, but stress can trigger early birth too, so stop it. I should know” Jen is right “I will try, I am drained. Oh yeah, Jay Brown called me back, like little fucking pussies. They need me Jen” I am right on this “they do, I wasn’t sweating it, because they were the one calling me saying tell Chris’ partners to not speak a word on Rihanna, we will come for them, this and that. I am like you said you don’t care, they do. I think with the way you were and they saw you as a threat, good!” I grinned; I am glad they do “I am calling you for a reason though and this is another part to the Chris and Rihanna story” I laughed “oh Jesus, let me pour some wine. What is it now, don’t tell me your both ran off to get married” Jen laughed, she laughed, and I didn’t laugh “wait, what?” this is awkward “I mean, no offence. I am sorry but I just wanted to do it, I am so sorry Jen, please don’t hate me. We did elope, we are actually married” the phone line went silence, I guess I have really upset her now “you crazy bastards, you know what. I am not shocked but what the hell, I mean it’s been eventful anyways. Listen here Robyn, this time last year you were crying because you had no family of your own and look at that. Remember when I said come to mine, and you said no, I am sick of being everyone’s auntie. Fuck it, ok? I am not angry or upset, I am happy for you crazy bitches. Cause you both are crazy, and that is all. I love you so much Robyn and I am happy for you. He made a honest woman of you, that is what I like to hear, the growth” Jen is making me emotional “thank for being so happy for us, it’s nice to hear it” it’s refreshing “I have been around for far too long to see the love you both hold, it’s wild but be happy it’s your time” Jen is right, it is my time.

I set my alarm, to wake up at around the time Chris will arrive. I just want to be here to welcome him home and I am super excited for him to be back, I just needed him to be here for this. There is no use that we are split, we need a united front. Taking off my alarm and placing my phone back on the pillow, I can’t wait to have Chris back in bed with me. Today is a new day and some new drama, I mean it’s us so we will get new drama. I put my phone on airplane mode so I could make sure I get my sleep; I should check my phone actually. Stifling out a yawn as I grabbed my phone again, swiping up to unlock my phone and then dragging down to take airplane mode off “damn girl” I swear my daughter finds me annoying, in there kicking me with hate. Probably sick of drama that I bring in her life already, watching the notifications drop down constantly but it’s not Chris so that means things should be going smoothly and he should be arriving, or just landed. I should maybe look cute for him, that is a great idea. I am going to look cute for him with my silk robe on, you never know I might get lucky tonight but when I mean that I just want snuggles.

“If it isn’t the mannequin herself, how long you been sat here in the early hours. Morning baby” Dennis said “for a while, two hours late. But I am here, looking pretty. What you think?” I smiled “I think this calls for footage, don’t you think. I love it, you’re sexy slash just woke up out of bed and don’t touch me because I am too bougie for you. I like it, let me get my camera” Dennis is damn right, he better get his camera out. I am not even thinking drama, I am just thinking my man, so he better hurt up before I become irritated. Actually no, I am trying to be good for him. I have been awful with him, but he needs to know not to test me also, I wonder if Chris knows how to open the gate and door, I am sure he will know. Maybe I should check, I think I should check. Just ask if he knows, I know he is here because he text me but that was like two hours ago, I don’t want to call again in case I hear bad news “welcome back Chris” my ears perked up, getting up from the couch “yeah, two weeks later I’m back. With a mad wife” Dennis walked in backwards, I feel so giddy inside “where she at, I am on one hundred right now” Chris walked into the room, with my hands covers my mouth smiling wide seeing him. Clapping my hands together “my baby is home” I couldn’t run “wow, look at you. Crumb is doing big things in there, oh wow” opening my arms wide “I missed you so much” hooking my arm around his neck kissing cheek before hugging him “I missed you too, it’s been hard. I am sorry, I let you down bad. I didn’t do what I should have” moving my head back “just stop, I am happy you’re back” touching his face with my free hand “I love you” pecking his lips “I love you too” pecking his lips again hugging him.

Follow behind Chris “my baby got a surprise for me, he said anyways” Dennis is laughing, not sure why but he is “if it’s stupid I will be annoyed” Chris let my hand go and opened the door, I jumped back seeing a huge white fur ball walking “what is this!?” I shouted hiding behind Chris “Zues” my eyes bulged out, I know he didn’t bring that thing here “no! I don’t like it” hiding behind Chris “he is sniffing his mom, stop it” grabbing Chris’ arm “this is not a surprise! Oh my god, you bought this huge thing in this home! Chris, get it out now. Oh my god, my couches in this room, get it out” he is laughing but it’s not funny “it’s ugly, go away” moving around Chris “well this is why I took so long, I was waiting for him to arrive, he had to come on a different flight so he can be looked after properly and also, I paid above and beyond to fast track this. He’s sensitive” Chris is stressing me out already “right, that thing can stay away from. I am allergic to hairy white things” and it wants to sniff me, I think not “she will love you boy, come on. You need to do your first shit here” staring at Dennis “this content is hilarious, will be back” Chris just ruined my moment by this, now his dog will get his attention.

I would have assumed Chris would be jetlagged, but he is hyper “where is Monica?” Chris asked as he opened his bottle of water “probably upstairs, I am super happy you are back. I would be emotional and crying but I did my make up for you. What you think?” he better act right “I noticed, first thing I noticed was your beautiful face and then the bump, it’s gone so big” Chris sat on the bar stool “maybe later, when my makeup comes on, I will probably cry. I just needed you back, you were suffering on your own” standing next to him “I feel way better being back here, like in Cali. I just felt alone doing it. I feel so bad, like we have so much to talk about. But right now, I just feel so happy you are here with me. I love you” I can tell “I appreciate Rich though, like leaving Cali I was in a daze. There were photographers just taking picture of me and then asking me shit. Oh yeah, so like Royalty text me she said can I put this, she sent me this caption and it said I am super happy for my dad and to have another sister, and she used the picture you put up. I was like that is fine, I am glad she asked because with the whole marriage thing” that is so sweet “awww she is a sweetheart, I really like her” I do think she is a good girl, watching Chris getting his phone out “she has been calling me all day yesterday and texting me, she put a post-up about me being a deadbeat” staring at her name, I am tempted to answer this myself.

#Chrianna FF #Chrianna Fanfiction #Chrianna #Fanfiction #Fanfic

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