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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

Text

Diego Hargreeves x reader

Warnings: smut, Diego being a gent, Luther getting in the way of fun times

Reader from What a Time to Be Alive fic

Masterlist

With nothing better to do with your time here at Elliot’s place, considering it’s about 11:30pm and all, here you are in an intense game of darts. You vs Luther, who by the way is not doing as incredibly terrible as you first originally thought.

Earlier that day Luther had made a surprise visit and went into a sad backstory of how he traveled all the way to find Reginald at the Umbrella Academy. Clearly he was unsuccessful in his little self made mission, and during this time you quietly wondered to yourself how the hell you two somehow missed seeing each other while in Dallas. Then later in the day Five brought the rest of the Hargreeves siblings over where he explained to everyone how we’d need to get answers by talking it out with Reginald. You and Luther abruptly disagreeing and taking off in a fury as everyone looked on in doubt. Diego of course following the both of you and that’s when some mystery guy in a fancy black car pulled up, handing Diego an invitation, stating a time and place for a “light supper” held by Sir Reginald Hargreeves himself.

To say the least, you were not thrilled. But when did the universe ever care for how you felt? You can’t really remember, but maybe not all is lost. Your face breaks out into a satisfied grin as you hit the bullseye on the dart board for the first time tonight, earning a defeated groan from Luther.

“I should have known you’d be so damn good at this, I mean come on Y/N you’re Diego’s girlfriend.” Exclaims Luther while shaking his head at you, a smirk growing onto your amused face.

“Diego has nothing to do with this, I’m just that amazing Luther, deal with it.”

“Yeah okay. Well get ready this is gonna be a winner.” He says half-confidently, his voice not 100% holding true to his statement. You fold your arms and stand back as you watch him line up his shot ever so carefully. Five sits on the couch nearby watching intently to his brother’s and yours little competition, nearly certain that you’ll keep the upper hand. As soon as Luther pulls his wrist back to prepare a calculated throw, Diego walks into the room and abruptly claps his hands together, just as Luther begins to flick his dart. This startling him and causing his hand to toss it into the nearby wall where it miraculously rickashays off a metal pipe, then the balcony railing and straight for your exposed arm.

“Oh shit Y/N watch out!” Warns Luther with wide eyes as the dart races for your skin, in the blink of an eye you grab it just in time. He lets out a huge breath of relief as Five starts laughing, you give them both an annoyed glare.

“That’s enough excitement for today. Goodnight everyone.” States Five as he gets up and walks past the three of you, down the steps to his makeshift bed on the first floors office couch. You, Diego, and Luther say your goodnights as well, deciding it best to get some needed rest. Luther heads downstairs for his own bed which consists of a cot that’s almost certainly one size to small for him. To bad, you and Diego get the bed while everyone else has to deal with their own problems for the night.

Diego lays on the mattress while staring up at the white ceiling in only his grey sweatpants, you’re standing off to the side as you change into a pair of black boxers and an almost see through white tank top. Knowing exactly what to wear to get a reaction from Diego, to put it bluntly you’ve missed this man so much and are now more horny then ever due to lack of contact for about a year and seven months. And nothing is gonna stop you from following through with your plan to get each other very naked tonight.

“You know I really missed seeing you shirtless all the time. Well...uh...I guess just just seeing you in general.” Diego raises his head up to look at your smiling face, his eyes slowly trailing you up and down as an excited grin plasters itself onto his handsome features. You bite your lip, sensing a new change to the once calm and innocent atmosphere of the room. You watch as Diego’s eyes flicker with adoration and lust as he brings himself up into a sitting position, his muscular thighs hanging off the side of the bed as he does so.

“Mi amour come here.” Whispers Diego with the most gentlest of smiles as he reaches out a hand for you to take. You graciously oblige, and slowly walk up to him as he parts his legs for you to stand in between while you take his hand in yours. He pulls you in even closer and hugs the sides of your alluring body before you break from his grasp to carefully hold the sides of his face. He looks up at you with those big beautiful brown eyes of his, practically inviting you to make a move. You eagerly take the reigns, leaning down to kiss him with a new surge of passion coursing throughout your entire being. It feels like electricity has struck you, your core starts to feel warm and you can already sense how wet your quickly getting, Diego just has that affect on you. Suddenly pulling away from him he looks up to give you a fake pout, his mood quickly changes however when you pull off your tank top and let your breasts free from their previous constraints. His left hand creeps up to gently squeeze your right breast as his other hand caresses the sides of your naked torso. He pulls you into another heated embrace as you begin to push him back further into the mattress, he scoots back more so both him and you can begin your fun little adventure in the middle of the bed. You straddle him as he decides to come back into a seated position, both of your shirtless torso’s flush against each other while your lips move hungrily as one.

Both of your hands subconsciously travel all around, feeling up one another as much as you can. Your mind is suddenly aware of the hardness beginning to make itself known to you from underneath his tight underwear. You smile into the kiss as you begin to grind your clothed womanhood against his growing bulge. Diego moans into your mouth at the pleasurable contact, exactly what you wanted to hear. As slowly as ever you continue grinding into his erection until he abruptly grabs your sides and swiftly maneuvers you onto your back, you let out a breathy laugh at his eagerness to be in charge once again.

“You’re a tease you know that right?” He purrs lowly into your ear as he hovers over you, your eyes catch his as a grin forms onto your flushed face.

“Well I got you hard now didn’t I. Now I just gotta get those tight tidy whities off of you and then mission accomplished.”

Diego’s face breaks out into an amused smirk as he fumbles with your boxers, you lifting up your butt for him to pull them down fully, throwing them off the side of the bed. He hums in silent delight at finding absolutely nothing underneath them but bare skin. His nimble fingers make a bee line for your dripping entrance but you’re not ready for him to take control just yet. You quickly grab his hand, kissing his cheek as you suddenly flip him onto his back, catching him by surprise when he hits the mattress with a dazed yelp.

“Get your undies off before I get impatient and rip them off of you.” He lightly chuckles at that before heeding to your passive aggressive demand, you watch in delight as he pulls them off of himself. Your face lighting up in excitement as his full erection pops out for your shimmering eyes to see. And just like that you slowly crawl over him, kissing his toned abs, then up to his chest, his neck, and finally his wanting lips. His hands wander around to your back, as one of them lightly squeezes your bum. You can feel his dick every time it grazes past your slick entrance, absolutely driving you insane.

To satisfy this craving, you pull back from your previous assault on his plush lips, carefully lowering yourself onto his hardened cock that’s been eagerly awaiting your warmness. He watches as your face contorts from that of slight discomfort to complete bliss in a matter of seconds as you’ve adjusted to his size and your current positioning. The feeling of his fullness pulling you into paradise, you can feel his hands resting onto your hips as you begin rocking back and forth. Your hand reaches out to grab his, placing it onto your boob for him to squeeze. Sending more pleasurable volts of electricity coursing through your sweaty body. You ride him into the mattress, causing the bed to rock along with you. He feels so good, your eyes travel down to his face as his dark ones find yours instantly.

“God you feel amazing Y/N....uh..k..k..keep doing that.” He breaths out, you lean down to pin his toned arms to the mattress as you continue to relentlessly ride him into tomorrow. Both of your faces showing pure bliss when suddenly the door opens and your ears are filled with the shocked screams of Luther. Your face instantly snapping over to the door, only catching the traumatized half covered face of Luther quickly shutting it, yelling a muffled sorry in return.

“I was just gonna ask for an extra blanket sorry guys! I didn’t see anything I swear! Sorry again, I’ll...uh...knock next time!” He continues to ramble as he hastily shuffles back to his bed downstairs. You quickly look down at a wide eyed and visibility red Diego. Your face breaking into a grin as you start to chuckle at the incredibly amusing but hugely awkward two second encounter.

“We just scarred him for life. His poor eyes.” You muse while Diego covers his blushing face.

“Does this ruin the mood?”

“Not unless we pretend that didn’t just happen. Cause nothing is keeping me from you tonight and I’m thoroughly enjoying being on top for once.” He smiles at that, feeling comfortable once again when you lean down to kiss him. Doing a miraculous job in pressing into him with your hips again, sending waves of pleasure pulsating throughout his entire being. This whole time he’s been in you and not once have you let anything break you away from him, this is your moment and you are determined to fully indulge yourself within Diego. So be it if Luther accidentally saw way more of you then he had ever hoped for, you have your man and are going to ride him until he screams.

Your hands fall to Diego’s hard chest, sliding to his shoulders as you relentlessly rock him into the mattress, a pleased smirk tugs at your lips while you watch Diego’s eyes close in pure bliss as his mouth hangs open, his orgasm slowly building. He’s having an absolute blast and so are you, as you begin to feel the rising of your own high on the near horizon. Diego suddenly lets out a satisfied moan that is absolute music to your ears, you’ve got him practically wrapped around your finger, or legs if you wanna get literal.

“Uhh Y/N you are....oh...you are just...so...mhmmm...yes..” You let out a snort at his pathetic attempt at complimenting you for your actions tonight. Though it doesn’t matter in the slightest, you’ve got him talking gibberish, that’s a reward in itself. He suddenly grips the sides of your hips, unintentionally roughly as he’s the first one to cum tonight. His member twitches inside you and you can feel the warm and sticky sensation of his load as it slowly drips out of you. It’s enough to send you over the moon and a second later your walls close in around him as you reach your own blissful ecstasy. The feeling of pleasure rippling throughout your sweaty body as a moan escapes you without realization. You open your eyes, not remembering ever shutting them, to find Diego with a heavenly drunken look of pure euphoria on his shadowed features.

You slowly pull yourself off of him and flop tiredly to his side, you both take this moment to catch your breaths again, your keen sense of smell picking up on all the bodily happenings on the nearby bedding. Something you’re definitely going to be washing before Elliot has a change to find out whats been going down in his bed. You let out a sleepy laugh at the thought, Diego noticing, he turns his head to face you.

“Was it my face again, I told you I can’t help how my face looks when I cum Y/N.”

“No D it wasn’t that...I was just thinking how this is Elliot’s bed and we just fucked in it like wild rabbits.....Oh God and Luther walked in on us too.”

“Well it wasn’t the first time.”

“Oh shit you’re right, when we were seventeen and you were about to get to second base...”

“I got to see your boobs and that was as far as that went. I was so proud.”

“He couldn’t look at us for a week after that. And you just gave me giant heart eyes anytime we were near each other. I had your ass wrapped around my finger, God you were such a simp.”

“I was not.”

“Oh please Diego, I could have tripped you on the stairs and you would have probably said thank you.”

“Not true.”

“All I had to do was touch your hand and you’d pop a boner, you can’t even lie to me about that shit.”

“Ah come on babe don’t bring that up I was an idiot teenager who was dealing with feelings...and girls.”

“You mean me.”

“Yes.”

“Well you’re still an idiot.” He gives you a half offended look as you simply chuckle and turn your body to lean yourself into his side. Your faces are inches apart from one another and you can feel his hot breath on your lips.

“Diego...you may be an idiot, but you’re my idiot...and I love you.” You whisper before gently pressing your lips to his. He brings his hand up to hold the side of your face as your lips collide and your tongues dance with one another in the darkness. He tastes rather pleasant, and the roughness of his scratchy dark facial hair doesn’t bother you as much as it first did. Pulling away for some air you stare into his chocolate eyes with a content smile upon your stunning features. He leans in to kiss you once again, parting from your lips once more to give you a loving smile of his own.

“Rest now mi amour you deserve it.” You yawn and kiss his cheek before laying your head upon his strong chest. The both of you drifting off into a much needed rest, holding each other with no intentions of ever wanting to let go.

---

-Bonus scene cause why not-

The next morning you awoke to the delicious scent of scrambled eggs, your ears instantly picking up the scrapping of the spatula against the pans metal bottom. Then the soft snores of your lover who’s still holding you close, you’d love nothing more then to stay in bed with Diego all day and avoid the ever lingering problem of the apocalypse. But then again, you are quit hungry and the world truly does not wait for anyone.

Turning to Diego you gently kiss him awake until his eyes finally open to find your smiling face, “As much as I’d love to stay here and possibly go for round dos...the tums grumbling and we got things to do.”

“But I’m so comfy...and you’re...so pretty.”

“Aww...I’ll still be pretty when we’re dressed and eating breakfast.”

With a dramatic groan he releases you from his arms and does an even more dramatic cat stretch. You shake your head and get up from underneath the covers, walking over to pick up your undergarments, you quickly put them on as you ignore Diego’s ogling from the bedside. You throw on some dark pants and a dark blue sweater, leaving your hair a wild mess to be dealt with later. Once you feel ready for the day you turn to Diego who has not made an attempt at getting up or refraining from eye fucking you. You simply roll your eyes at his stupid smile, and go about the room in search of his clothing.

Chucking his underwear, pants, and a black tank top in his general direction you blow him a kiss before walking out the door and into the kitchen where Elliot is slaving away at the stove with a giant pan of scrambled eggs. Five is up and as usual making himself a cup of coffee, still in his adorable pajamas that only he could rock. He turns as he hears you enter, giving you a nod in acknowledgment and nothing else. You wander over to the fridge and pull out a crisp apple to munch on for your breakfast, you then walk over to the small kitchen table to sit down and wait for Diego.

In the meantime you can’t help but wonder at the fact that Luther has yet to make an appearance, honestly you’re fine with being around him after clearly knowing he saw more then he claimed. But you know he’s way to embarrassed and scared of how Diego may react when they both see each other today. Suddenly Diego emerges from his room, hair combed and looking as handsome as ever. He gives you a quick smile before snatching a freshly made cup of coffee from Five’s hands, hastily explaining it’s for his lover and Five shouldn’t question him. To your surprise Five just purses his lips and turns to make a new cup without a single word.

“Actually this one’s mine Y/N, I just used you as a threat.” Whispers Diego as he sits down in the chair directly to your left.

“And they say chivalry isn’t dead.”

“Oh..Ah shit I burnt my tongue.”

“My bad I forgot to put up the caution-freshly-made-coffee-is-in-fact-hot signs. Must’v slipped my mind, oops.” You deadpan, your voice dripping with early morning sarcasm, he’s about to say something back when Luther walks into the room. Doing his absolute best to avoid any and all eye contact from your guys general direction. He gets an apple from the fridge and sits down across from you as casually as he can muster. Five eyeing him suspiciously the whole time while Elliot cooks on, completely oblivious.

“So the weather seems nice today...very sunny out, not many clouds...a nice breeze.” Mutters Luther as he takes another bite from his apple, half of it gone already.

“Well this is Texas so..” You nonchalantly trail off, taking a last bite from your own apple, doing so in an attempt at concealing your growing amusement at how quickly the kitchens mood is shifting to that of a silent tension. One that Five’s trying to figure out from behind the three of you, while Diego on the other hand has been staring at the table the whole time. Both him and Luther avoiding all possible conversation or brotherly acknowledgment of one another. You then begin laughing as your face breaks out into a large grin, you can’t help it anymore at the thought of Luther seeing you and Diego getting it on last night when all he wanted was some extra blankets. Everyone abruptly turns to you in confusion as tears well up in the corners of your eyes as you continue to lose your shit. Finally you’re able to calm yourself enough to explain your means of amusement.

“I’m sorry but we gotta address the elephant in the room here...err I guess ape...fuck I couldn’t stop myself. Okay I’m good now....alright Luther, I am deeply sorry that we did not lock our door last night and you saw, eh...things that will most definitely haunt you forever. Better you then Five.”

“Jesus Christ you two, so that’s why Luther ran downstairs and wouldn’t stop rubbing his eyes.” Replies Five with a scrunched up look upon his face, Luther listens on as he shyly glances up at you.

“Sorry man you can’t always rub the sin away, once you see it there’s no going back. And don’t sweat it, Diego’s not going to murder you...nor am I.”

“But if you don’t knock again I have full permission to throw a knife at your head.” Adds Diego with a nod, Luther just nods back, accepting the laid out terms and conditions for if he makes the terrible mistake again, deciding it best if he just keeps to himself the rest of the morning. You just lean back in your chair, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips. You’ve settled the tension, ate a delicious apple, and made love to you man in the late hours of the night not even five hours ago. With the exception of the approaching doomsday and those Swedish assassins earlier giving you a run for your money, you’re feeling pretty damn good.

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x you #diego hargreeves imagine #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy imagine #tua imagine #falcor the luck dragon stories

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wendimydarling · 5 years ago

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Title: Convenience

Summary: Clark doesn’t like sleeping out in the cold.

Pairing: Clark Kent x OFC Reader

Word Count: 2546

Warnings: Sex. There is sex.

A/N: So all this lovely text got deleted after I shared it. This story was a beast, but worth it to power through and finish. The idea came from this NSFW gif here, which gave me the thought “what if Clark was an escort while he was a nomad looking for his parents?” which then translated to “what if he just parachuted into each town if he didn’t intend to stay?”

Song drabble number ? for the 500 Event, sent in anonymously!

Clark wasn’t saving for much, he was just looking for a place where he could remain anonymous, a place to hide from who he was. And that required a certain amount of cash put away. But it was hard to find a job when he was constantly on the road, and he was always on the road it seemed. No jobs meant no money, and no money meant no place to sleep.

So Clark would offer out his services. He was young, handsome, and had the stamina of... well, of Superman.

He never asked for money. His preferred payment of choice was a place to crash and a shower, and breakfast if he could swing it. Though he’d never tell them that was what he was up to. Why hurt their feelings?

This particular evening, he’d come upon a small town in the middle of nowhere, as usual. Clark went straight to the local dive bar; that was the best place to find pretty girls desperate enough to take a man home. He entered the establishment and surveyed the room, a gruff expression etched into his features. Slim pickings tonight. Still, it was early, so he went to the bar, checking his wallet to see if he had enough for dinner and the drinks that would be needed. Just enough for the drinks. Fuck.

Clark ordered a beer, making kind but vague eyes at the girls staring at him from the corner. He was hoping for something a little more appetizing but beggars can’t be choosers, and either of them would be a better choice than sleeping out in the cold. He was nearing the end of his beer and had just resigned himself to his fate when she walked in.

Target acquired.

She was all legs; a pencil skirt gracefully hugged her figure and a low cut blouse accentuated her small bust. She was clearly out of place here, which meant either she was meeting someone, or she’d had a bad day and desperately needed a drink. Long dark curls hung over one of her shoulders, and she met his gaze with large, bambi eyes. He tipped his beer toward her and went back to his phone; she would not be easy prey.

He had to make her comfortable, make her seem as though he wasn’t interested. She was pretty enough that some lug would make a move on her soon, and then Clark would step in and defend her. That typically works. She’d be grateful, offer him a beer of thanks, and then they’d get to chatting and he’d turn on the charm. She’d be putty in his hands.

Sure enough, a big ugly brute that had downed probably three beers too many sauntered up to the woman.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he slurred, running a finger along her thigh. The woman grabbed his hand and firmly removed it from her leg, but the brute caught her wrist, pulling her close and leaning in for a kiss.

Clark watched the exchange through his glass, seeing how she’d manage. The woman tried to fight the man off but she was clearly overpowered, and her words weren’t working. Clark decided now was the time to intervene. He stepped in and clapped a hand on the idiot’s shoulder, squeezing harder than he should. The man was taken aback by his strength but he took a swing and Clark let him, knowing it would do far more damage to the brute, and would earn him some sympathy points. He pretended to fall down while the brute was thrown out of the bar, howling in pain and clutching his hand.

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

Her large brown eyes met his steely blue as she touched his shoulder, and Clark shook his head in mock confusion, standing up at his full height to tower over her. He could hear her heart race faster, could see the blood in her veins pumping harder at his nearness.

Target locked.

He pressed the heel of his palm to his eye a couple of times.

“I’m fine, are you?”

“Yes, thanks to you.”

“Happy to help. No one else should bother you.”

Clark turned to head back to his drink.

“Can I buy you a beer?”

There it is.

“No it’s alright; I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Come on, it’s the least I can do to say thank you.”

Clark turned to look at her, a smile on his face.

“Well, if you insist.”

Bullseye.

~~~~~~~

Claire had just wanted a drink. She hated this town, and couldn’t wait until this weekend when she could go back home. Being assigned to this town for two months had been hell, but in her line of work, shitholes like this just came with the paycheck.

But every now and then some fun would come her way. Like the man behind her.

The man with impressive stature and beautiful black curls. The man with soft eyes, steel blue eyes that held a haunted past and an uncertain future. Steel… it’s fitting. That’s what I’ll call him. Claire didn’t want a relationship, just a good fuck, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Why hurt his feelings?

They were back at her apartment, she jimmying her key in the fickle lock as Steel held her close, his breath tickling her ear. His hands were at her hips, hiking her skirt ever so slowly up over her ass.

“Let me,” he whispered, and Claire’s knees nearly buckled. His voice was so low, so husky, and it shot fire straight through her. Steel’s fingers gently slipped over and between hers as he grabbed the key from her, reaching around her body to grasp the door knob. A shiver ran down Claire’s spine as he kissed the back of her neck. The door swung open in seconds.

Claire stepped into the small apartment. Steel followed, greedily grabbing at her waist as she toed off her pumps. He spun her around and cupped her face gently with his hands, the first brush of his lips slow, heated. He smelled like cedar and smoke, and tasted like whiskey and hops. There was a pleasant flavor to his tongue that she couldn’t describe, one she’d never tasted before on any man.

“Where’s your bedroom,” he asked, whispering again, and Claire moaned against his mouth.

“End of the hallway.”

He picked Claire up with such surprising ease, and never in her life had she felt so small. It was as if she weighed nothing. She straddled his broad waist and his hands grasped her ass as he walked her down the hall, his lips never leaving hers. As they reached the bedroom, Claire felt his fingers clasp the zipper of her skirt, revealing her soft skin slowly as he continued to taste her lips.

Every touch felt gentle and firm but calculated, as if he was restraining himself from something. So when her blouse was suddenly yanked open, Claire gasped in surprise. Quickly relieved of the torn garment, Steel hoisted her in the air again and tossed her onto the bed. A pang shot through her belly at the feeling of being so roughly handled, and the way he licked his lips as he stared at her like she was his prey left her loins singing.

Steel undressed carefully as Claire stared at him, and she wondered briefly if he was even human. Every sinew, every muscle stood out from underneath taut skin, dark curls trailing down his abdomen to frame the largest cock she’d ever seen. He stared back, his eyes taking in her own petite form, decorated elegantly with the dark undergarments she’d been left in.

He crawled to her slowly, hovering above her, trapping her in the cage of his body. His lips fell back onto hers, his hands tracing every line of her skin. Claire shivered at the touch; it had been awhile since she’d brought someone home, and she wondered how she’d forgotten the heavenly feeling of being pressed into a mattress by the delicious weight of a man.

His lips were talented, dedicated, travelling the length of her neck to the valley of her breasts. His hot breath warmed her nipple through her bra, and he gently pulled the cup down to reveal the sensitive nub to his tongue. Claire arched her back and Steel took the opportunity to reach underneath her, unclasping her bra and holding her in that position to afford himself more access to her chest. She gasped as his lips returned to the beautiful center of her breast, sucking it effortlessly into a peak that he could flick with the tip of his tongue.

Claire writhed and moaned beneath him, gasping and mewling at the feel of his mouth on her flushed skin. He trailed wet kisses down her ribs to her hips, fingers running along her thighs, hands forcing her wider. He grasped her underwear in his teeth and pulled gently, his nose running along her leg until Claire joined him in his nakedness. Those teeth made their way back up her other leg, nipping at her tender flesh as she whined, her soft sounds begging him for more.

Steel’s fingers discovered her sex, slipping easily through the slick that had coated her folds. Claire couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this wet, this fast, but the moment his fingers slid deep inside of her body she realized that she didn’t care. He was knuckle deep and somehow able to push so hard that Claire’s body snapped; no build up, no swell. She had been picked up and dropped over the edge, and shock rang clear on her face as she came without warning around his fingers.

He watched her with the knowing look of a man who has done this before, a man who knew the effect he had on women. But the gleam in Steel’s eye had a dullness to it that Claire noticed, almost a sadness. It made her want to comfort him, though she didn’t know why. She lifted a hand to stroke his cheek with her thumb and he wrapped his arm around her waist, hoisting her into a sitting position.

Claire was higher than she expected and looked down to discover that Steel was holding her literally with just his hand, impaling her core with his fingers. Shocked pleasure contorted her face as she snapped her head up to look at him, confusion and arousal striking her features. A second orgasm barrelling toward her at lightning speed the moment he wiggled his fingers against her cervix, and Claire clasped her hands around Steel’s neck, her forehead falling to his shoulder as her body convulsed. He held her close, burying his face in her hair. His lips surround her collarbone, the comforting caress of soft kisses alighting on her flushed skin as she rejoins him from the clouds.

“Well fuck,” Claire exclaimed breathlessly, and Steel chuckled, brushing her clit on purpose as he removed his fingers from her wet heat. She gasps and bucks her hips, sliding off of his lap and onto the bed. He grinned at her, flipping her over effortlessly. Claire felt like a rag doll, and it made her bite her lip in anticipation.

She watched him through hooded eyes as he tore open the square foil. How had she missed his beauty when she first saw him in the bar? Long lashes brushed his cheeks every time he blinked, dark curls hung over his forehead. He had a strong jaw, and there was a smattering of freckles over his nose that were only just barely visible in the low light of the room. He looked up at her and Claire’s heart skipped a beat at the dark lust that had taken over his amiable features.

Steel knelt on the bed and grasped her hips, yanking Claire up to meet him. She felt the tip of his length press against her folds, but for some reason he hesitated. Claire pushed against him, whining softly and urging him to continue. Faster than she thought possible he was sheathed inside of her and she cried out, the sudden fullness bursting through her abdomen. She gasped and moaned, panting heavily as her body tried to reject him, but Steel slowly eased them down so that he was lying on top of her, holding still so that Claire could grow accustomed to his size. He kissed her cheek softly, slipping a hand underneath her to tease her opening.

Claire shifted as Steel’s fingers cupped her mound. He spread her folds, softly stroking her clit with his middle finger as she adjusted slowly. She clenched around him, filled with an unbelievable desire to be fucked raw by this astonishing person. He thrust into Claire once, testing her, and she uttered a moan, throaty and full of need.

“Please!” Claire whispered urgently. Steel didn’t hesitate this time; he began thrusting into her in earnest, ripping her apart seam by seam. Claire cried out each time he struck deepest, her eyes closed, face skewed in the painful pleasure of sexual rapture. She could hear Steel’s voice in her ear, grunts and growls winding the coil in her belly tighter and tighter. One of his hands laced with hers for support and the other continued to play with her folds, spurring her on to another tumble over the edge.

Unable to move, the coil sprang open, and stars burst behind Claire’s eyes as she came. She heard Steel groan as her walls milked his cock, and he sat the two of them up suddenly. His hands grasped her hips and slammed her repeatedly down onto his pulsing length, and Claire fisted her hands in the sheets, her orgasm remaining strong. Harder and stronger, stronger than she’d ever felt a man before, he snapped his hips up into her until she felt his cock swell, releasing everything he had. Claire slumped to the bed when he was finished, exhausted beyond belief.

Panting heavily, she turned and watched through tired eyes as Steel cleaned up. He hardly seemed out of breath and Claire couldn’t believe it; she was gasping for air. He came back over to the bed and laid the blanket on top of her, and Claire grabbed his hand and pulled. She didn’t want to be alone tonight. Steel slipped under the covers and draped his arm over her still-trembling form, brushing her hair softly from her face. Her eyes soon closed and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~

Clark watched the woman’s chest rise and fall as she slept. Everything about her was beautiful. He closed his eyes and listened to the thump of her heart, the rush of blood sweeping through her pulse points, the sharp draft of air swelling her lungs. The gentle ambient melody of her body lulled Clark into a sense of calm, and he found that self-loathing that often accompanied his thoughts in this moment didn’t appear this time; he was peaceful for once. He snuggled into her warmth as he fell asleep with her, comforted by the soft bed and the notion of a shower tomorrow. He might also find comfort in her body again in the morning, but for now, this was enough.

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caranfindel · 4 years ago

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Recap/review 15.20: “Carry On”

I’ll warn you right now - I did not hate it.

THEN: Chuck loses. Jack is God. The Winchesters are finally free.

NOW: Friends, get ready for a whole lot of fan service in the next few minutes. It's like TPTB have been reading everything we say and giving us what we want.

As a song about "ordinary life" plays, Dean's retro alarm clock goes off at 8:00. He shuts it off and sits up so we can see he's wearing a henley shirt (fan service points: 1). As he stretches, he's greeted by Miracle the dog (fan service points: 2)! Who is apparently his dog and definitely not Sam's!

But it's okay because LOOK AT THEM.

Meanwhile, Sam is running (fan service points: 3) and enjoying the beautiful day. When he gets home, he cooks (fan service points: 4) the same dry scrambled eggs that Stevie made for Charlie. Dean wanders in, wearing the dead guy robe, just as two slices of toast pop out of the toaster. I am not giving the robe any points because I don't think it's anything we all publicly long for and get excited about when it comes up, but I am willing to consider any opposing arguments. Sam, wearing just a t-shirt (5 points), tells Dean "it's hot" and I say mmm, yes it is. Dean adorably burns his hands on the hot toast and then brushes his teeth. You know what, I think the robe deserves a point after all. We're up to 6.

And we're not even two minutes into the episode.

And then they JUST KEEP COMING because Sam walks in, exposing his tattoo (7) because he's SHIRTLESS (8), scrubbing at his WET HAIR (9) with a towel, and I curse The Husband for deciding to watch with me because it means it would be kind of awkward to rewind and watch this a few more times. There's not even any dialog I can pretend I didn't catch.

I was NOT PREPARED FOR THIS.

He pulls on the grey v-neck t-shirt of sex (10) and proceeds to carefully make his bed. Dean, meanwhile, kind of sloppily throws his bed together and calls it done. Domestic Winchesters for 11 fan service points, please. Part of me feels like Dean's messy room is OOC, considering how proud he was to have his own room in the first place. But then I have to consider the trunk of the Impala, especially when compared to the hyper-organized neatness of her trunk when Sam's all alone in Mystery Spot, and it feels right. (Why am I thinking about Sam being all alone in Mystery Spot? NO REASON, NO REASON AT ALL.)

Sam's hair in his face while he makes his bed? Yes, please (12 points).

Dean washes the breakfast dishes (13), sneaking some leftover (because they were nasty) eggs to Miracle and looking around to make sure Sam doesn't see, because obviously Sam's going to be the one who doesn't want the dog to get table scraps. Sam put on a plaid shirt earlier, but we see him in the laundry room back down to one v-neck t-shirt (thank you Jack). He's reading as his laundry tumbles in the dryer, and he has to kick the dryer once to stop it from making noise, which I guess is why he's in there babysitting it. I keep reading on Tumblr that people want "at least one laundry scene," as if that didn't exist in The Monster at the End of This Book, but here's your laundry scene, friends. You were right to want it; it is marvelous (14).

Just look at that collection of plaid shirts and tell me it doesn't make you happy.

Dean times himself assembling a gun, complete with plenty of hand closeups (15) and then sits in the library with Miracle, scratching his ears (Miracle's, not his own) and apparently looking for a case. Sam comes in and joins them. He hasn't found anything, but Dean gets a serious look on his face and says "I got something."

Spoiler alert: It is my heart.

Title card!

The Impala pulls to a stop and the guys get out, still with serious looks on their faces. Oddly, the episode title flashes on screen really quickly. Or maybe it's just me. "Sure you're ready for this?" says Sam. "Oh, I don't have a choice," answers Dean. "This is my destiny." And that is exactly how I felt about watching this episode, friends. Not ready, but no choice. The camera pans to show that the boys are at the 43rd Annual Akron Pie Fest. In Akron, Iowa? Just north of Sioux City? Five hour drive? Say hi to Jody and the girls while you're there? Probably not. Probably in Akron, Ohio, almost 16 hours away.

(NO ONE CARES. STOP IT.)

Give me a break. This might be the last time I ever get to calculate driving time.

Anyway. Just pies! Nothing serious! Whew, I was concerned for a second. Dean is emotional.

This is just so beautiful.

Are you crying?

What? No. You're crying, I'm not.

No one is crying. There is no reason for ANYONE to cry.

Sam sits on a bench and watches happy pie eating families (sob). Dean returns with a giant box with six slices of pie (16 points). He sits next to Sam, and they have this conversation:

What's wrong?

Nothing. I'm fine.

Nah, come on, I know that face. That's Sad!Sam face.

I'm not Sad!Sam. I just. I'm thinking about Cas, you know? Jack. If they could be here.

Yeah, I know, I think about them too. You know what, that pain's not gonna go away, right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is going to be for nothing.

Dean's right, Sam. Do not be sad. We will have no Sad!Sam tonight. Live your life, or else those sacrifices are wasted. (ahem.) Sam responds by pushing a slice of pumpkin pie into Dean's face. "I've wanted to do that for a very long time," he laughs. "You're right, I do feel better!" Dean scraping the pie off his face and eating it is pretty adorable.

I'd pay good money to lick that off his face. And not just because I love pumpkin pie.

Not quite 6 minutes in and we're up to at least 16 guaranteed bits of pure fan service. Just sweet, domestic Winchester brothers living their lives. How long has this been going on? I've decided it's been at least a year since the last episode. Maybe longer. A good long time. Lots of time for them to enjoy their newfound freedom. But right now things are getting dark. Because it's nighttime, and because I think somebody's about to die.

A mom sends two young brothers upstairs for bathtime. They pause when the doorbell rings. No one seems to be there, but then the dad is stabbed by people wearing creepy masks. The boys run into their room and hide. From their room, we hear the mom scream, and then a thump. One of the masked guys comes into the room and, after a fake-out when we think they might be safe, drags the boys out from under the bed.

So, domestic life in the bunker and then a hunt? Wow. We're getting it all. What a great episode, full of the things we love.

Is this Becky Rosen's living room?

Daytime. Agents Kripke and Singer (ugh, really? Kripke is good, but how about honoring someone other than the current regime?) show up at the scene. They learn that the dad's blood was drained, the mom is alive but her tongue was ripped out (wow), and the kids were taken. The mom drew a picture of the masks they wore, which the brothers recognize.

In a lovely, picturesque spot, the guys flip through John's journal. And I didn't realize we hadn't seen the journal in a while, but Tumblr informs me many of us were exicted to see it again, so boom. 17 points.

You know what this is? Mimes. Evil mimes.

Yeah. Or vampires.

VampMIMES. Son of a bitch!

Dean comes up with a silly portmanteau name for a monster? That will be 18 points. Sam determines the vamps will be heading for Canton if they follow their pattern, and the victims are families who live on the outskirts of town with children between the ages of five and ten. Well, that couldn't be too difficult to narrow down in a city with a population of over 70,000.

I'll handwave it. The lip biting. You’re welcome.

Night. Canton, I presume. Two masked vamps get out of a van. One of them gets decapitated by Dean. The other is shot in the leg, and then the head, by Sam. Well, he's a vampire, so of course it didn't kill him, but the bullet was soaked in dead man's blood. {Sidebar: "Soaked?" Dipped, maybe, but do you soak metal? Discuss.} They ask where the missing kids are, and the vamp is all, you're gonna let me go if I tell you? "No," Dean explains, adorably disappointed that the vamp isn't a mime after all. "This isn't a you walk out of here kind of situation. But see, if you tell us quick, you get this." He displays his bloody machete. "But if you take your time, you get, you get that." And "that" is a switchblade which Sam casually pops open right on cue.

Yeah, I'll take that. I'll take that itty bitty one.

It's a bad choice.

You see, this, this is quick. It's clean, you know? No muss, no fuss. You blink and you're dead.

But a blade this small, I'm gonna have to keep sawing and sawing to get your head off. And you'll feel it. Every muscle, tendon. Every inch. Could take hours.

Oh, and if those kids are dead? He's gonna use a spoon.

GUYS. I said it before and I’ll say it again. I absolutely love when they remind us that Sam Winchester, that sweet boy with the huge heart and the endless supply of empathy and the puppy dog eyes, I love it when they remind us that he is a fucking psycho when he needs to be. I'm not going to give it a point, because I don't think it's anything we've asked for, but again I'm willing to hear all arguments. Especially if they come with detailed examples of Sam going psycho. Just for evidence, you know.

Just casually talkin' bout torturing you to death. No big.

The vampire wisely decides to reveal the location of the nest where the kids are being held. Next we see the Impala pulling up in front of some kind of barn. The guys open the trunk to get their gear out, and Dean pulls out a throwing star. "Come on. One time." Sam says no. There will be plenty of other times for Dean to use his throwing stars, I'm sure.

The guys enter the barn and find it apparently empty, although we see masked vamps peeking at them from outside. They find the kids locked in a closet, but four vampires appear before they can escape. They shoo the boys outside and shoot the vampires with their dead man's blood bullets from a safe distance. No, they don't. Why? I got no goddamn idea.

{Sidebar: At some point during this fight, I realized they hadn't played "Carry On Wayward Son" at the beginning. And that we got a regular montage, not a season finale extended montage.}

Sam gets knocked unconscious, and Dean loses his machete and then gets pinned by a couple of vamps. But they don't kill him; they just hold him down while an unmasked vampire strolls in. Dean recognizes her from season 1, and pretends not to notice Sam's now-conscious hand surreptitiously creeping toward his machete. Suddenly the vampire loses her head, because Sam is behind her, and the fight starts up again. Dean gets thrown into a wall right next to a big metal spike, which we focus on oddly. And then he gets thrown onto the spike. Oops. Sam kills the last of the vamps and doesn't notice Dean's predicament. He's all, cool, fight's over, let's go get those kids out of here. "Sam," Dean says, "I don't think I'm going anywhere."

Dean tells Sam there's something stuck in his back and it "feels like it's right through me." He keeps touching his chest as if he expects to feel it poking through. Sam reaches around to touch his back and his hand comes back bloody, and if that gives you All Hell Breaks Loose feels, there's a good reason. Sam tries to pull Dean off the spike, but Dean stops him. "It feels like this thing's holding me together right now." Sam's starting to panic and so am I. He wants to go get the first aid kid and call for help, but Dean stops him. And y'all, I'm just gonna have to type the whole thing out.

Sam, Sam. Stay with me. Please, stay with me, please.

Okay. Yeah.

Okay. Okay. Uh. Right. All right, listen to me. Um. You get those boys and you get them someplace safe, all right?

Dean? WE are gonna get them somewhere safe.

No. You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right? I mean, look at us. Saving people, hunting things, it's what we do.

Stop, Dean, just stop

It's okay. It's okay. it's good. It's good. We had one hell of a ride, man.

I will find away, okay? I will find another way.

No. No. No, no no no no. No bringing me back, okay? You know that always ends bad.

Dean, please.

I'm fading pretty quick, so, there's a few things I need you to hear. Come here. Let me look at you. There he is. I am so proud of you, Sam. You know that? I've always looked up to you. Remember when we were kids, you were so damn smart. You never took any of Dad's crap. I never knew how you did that. And you're stronger than me. You always have been. Hey, did I ever tell you, that night that I came for you when you were in school? You know, when dad hadn't come back from his hunting trip?

Uh, the woman in white.

The woman in white, that's right. I must have stood outside your door for hours, cause I didn't know what you would say. I thought you'd tell me to get lost, or get dead. And I didn't know what I would have done if I didn't have you. Cause I was so scared. I was scared. Cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It's always been you and me.

Then don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't do this alone.

Yes you can.

Well, I don't want to.

Hey. I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you. Right here. Every day. Every day you're out there, and you're living, and you're fighting, cause you, you always keep fighting. You hear me? I'll be there, every step. I love you so much. My baby brother. Well, I did not think this would be the day. But it is, it is, and that's okay. I need you, I need you to promise me. I need you to tell me that it's okay. I need you to tell me it's okay. Look at me. I need. I need. I need you to tell me it's okay. Tell me it's okay.

Dean. It's okay. You can go now.

Bye, Sam.

NO, IT IS NOT OKAY. THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF OKAY.

And of course I haven't described Sam's face as he understands what's happening, Dean's occasional spasms of pain, the handholding, the fucking FOREHEAD TOUCH, the tears, the way Dean's hand drops away, the way Sam's hands shake as he clutches his dead brother (hello, AHBL again).

Maybe we just need to watch it.

Gifs borrowed from @jaredandjensen.

And there's also the Always Keep Fighting shoutout, the "I love you," Dean calling Sam his "baby brother," the "I can't do this alone/Yes you can/Well I don't want to" parallel with 1.01. Infinite points, friends. I can't count that high.

(Things not to think about: Sam putting Dean's body in the back seat, and then putting the two young brothers in the front and driving them to safety. Sam driving 15 hours back to Lebanon with his brother's body. Do not think about these things.)

Aftermath. Sam and Miracle, and no one else, are giving Dean a hunter's funeral. And I know Covid means Sam couldn't have any friends there, but also? This is kind of perfect. Sam facing it alone. The song we hear as Sam lights his brother's pyre is "Brothers in Arms" by Dire Straits, in case you're not emotionally wrecked yet.

Yeah, I'm already there, thanks anyway.

Next we see Sam's slightly more modern alarm going off at 8:00. Note that Sam gets up later now, because at the beginning of the episode, he had already gone for a run and was cooking breakfast when Dean woke at 8:00. But now there's no one to cook for so he doesn't need to get back early and I AM NOT OKAY.

ANYWAY.

Sam gets up and faces his lonely day. He cooks eggs. One piece of toast pops up. He sits in the library with Miracle and looks at the names carved into the table. He wanders the halls with his dog at his side. (SAM HAVING A DOG WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE HIM HAPPY. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE US HAPPY. HOW DARE YOU.)

{Sidebar: Has Sam ever had a dog when he wasn't at a low point in his already-low life? Discuss.}

Eventually he finds himself at the door to Dean's room. The room is just as Dean left it, kind of messy, kind of very full of Dean. He sits on Dean's bed and pets the dog and cries and it should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that I am ROLLING AROUND IN ALL OF THIS BEAUTIFUL PAIN.

No one at all.

@annianvi thinks he’s wearing Dean’s hoodie when he cooks his sad lonely breakfast? Could it be?

Sam hears a phone buzzing in Dean's desk. He digs out the one labeled "Dean's other other phone" and answers. The caller asks for "Agent Bon Jovi" and says he's had some bodies turn up without hearts in Austin. "A friend of mine, Donna Hanscum, said you were the one to call." Oooh, are we sending him to Austin? Is Walker, Texas Ranger just going to be another fake name and fake badge? Now that's how you do a spinoff!

{Sidebar: Does Donna know about Dean? Did Sam tell anyone yet? Is the trying to get him out of the bunker and keep him busy? If so, wouldn't she have given the guy Sam's number, not Dean's other other phone? But maybe it's someone she talked to weeks ago. Discuss.}

Sam tells the caller he is on his way, and we see him with a packed bag, heading out of the bunker with Miracle. He turns to look one last time and then turns off all the lights. We haven't seen the bunker this dark since the day they found it. I don't think he's ever coming back. Goodbye, bunker. I know some people hated you, but I was not one of them. {Sidebar: Did he give the bunker key to anyone? Surely he wouldn't want all those resources to go to waste!}

So, I guess the episode title refers to Sam having (choosing?) to carry on after he loses his brother. THIS IS FINE.

Now we're back at Dean's pyre, and this time we drift up with the smoke. We catch up with Dean, outdoors, in a lovely setting with trees and birds. "Well, at least I made it to Heaven," he says. "Yep," someone answers. It's Bobby! Real Bobby, not AU Bobby! Dean's actually standing next to a building - a cabin, maybe - and Bobby is sitting on the porch.

What memory is this?

It ain't, ya idjit.

Yeah it is. Cause the last I heard, you, you were in in Heaven's lockup.

Was. Now I'm not. That kid of yours, before he went wherever, made some changes here. Busted my ass out. And then he, well, set some things right. Tore down all the walls. Heaven ain't just reliving your golden oldies any more. It's what it always should have been. Everyone happy, everyone together. Rufus lives about five miles that way. With Aretha. Thought she'd have better taste. And your mom and dad, they got a place over yonder. It ain't just Heaven, Dean. It's the Heaven you deserve. And we been waiting for you.

So Jack did all that.

Well, Cas helped. It's a big new world out there. You'll see.

So, I guess Cas made it out of the Empty? Dean smiles at that, but doesn't suggest finding him or anything. I approve. Bobby pulls out a couple of beers (the green cooler made it into Heaven!!!) and they share some bad beer. Dean comments that Heaven is "almost perfect," and Bobby knows EXACTLY what's missing, because of course he does. "He'll be along. Time up here, it's different. You got everything you could ever want, or need, or dream. So I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?" Well, Dean doesn't have everything he could ever want or need, but he does see one thing - Baby. With her Kansas plates! Friends, that's two things I requested before the end that I didn't think I would ever see: a forehead touch, and Baby wearing her original plates. Thank you, Jack.

Dean's face lights up. "I think I'll go for a drive." As he walks to his car, we see the cabin is actually Harvelle's Roadhouse, albeit smaller, I think. Dean settles into his car and says "Hey, Baby" and when he turns her on, "Carry On Wayward Son" begins to play.

I know he looks good in Purgatory, but DAMN if he don't look fine in Heaven, too.

We cut to the name Dean, which is embroidered on - a little boy's overalls. Sam's little boy. Oh, wow. I was not prepared for this. Sam has a son named Dean, and we switch back and forth between Dean driving through Heaven and scenes of Sam's life with his son and his mysterious, barely-seen wife. She has long dark hair, and I'd like to point out that she could easily be either Eileen or Dr. Cara Roberts. Just saying. Sam's house is full of family photos, including the one of him and Dean from his memory box and a new one from the episode Lebanon. I never thought about the fact that they might have actually taken a photo, and if they did, would it still be around after Sam smashed the pearl? Well, obviously, yes. We see Sam throwing a ball with his son, helping him with his homework (Sam in glasses? Check!) and just obviously really loving this kid and giving him the childhood he never had. We also see a really, really unfortunate grey wig that I refuse to screencap. You're welcome. As aging Sam sits in the hundred-year-old car in his garage, his dead brother drives happily along dirt roads in Heaven, and I'd prefer my Heaven have paved roads, thanks.

We end in Sam's house, now complete with hospital bed. Sam could be in his 80s or even 90s, which means he could have lived another 50 years, more or less, after Dean died. His son doesn't look any older than his 20s or 30s (and also looks vaguely South Asian to me), and I wonder how old Sam was when he finally let himself have a family. Remember when Dean said his happy ending was for Sam to have kids and get old? Well, he got it, finally. Did Sam get a regular job? Did he keep hunting? We don't know. What we do know is that his son has a anti-possession tattoo. Some people have taken this to mean young Dean is a hunter, but I don't think we can jump to that conclusion. It could just be 1) Dean wanted a tattoo like his father's, or b) Sam knows there are still demons out there and that his son would naturally be a target, hunter or not.

All right, I had to screencap teary-eyed Sam grasping the steering wheel and reliving his years with his brother in this car, so we can just pretend we don't see The Wig, okay?

Sam's evidently in hospice care. Or maybe we'll all have hospital beds in our houses in 50 years. Who knows. His son sits on the bed and takes his hand. Sam smiles at him, and Dean says "Dad, it's okay. You can go now." PARALLELLS! As some woman sings "Carry On Wayward Son" for whatever reason (why didn't they use the lovely a cappella version they already had from Fan Fiction?), Sam places his hand on Dean's and takes his last breath.

{Sidebar: Where is Sam's wife in all of this? Divorced? Already dead? She doesn't seem to be in the family pictures, so I'm going with divorced. Discuss.}

Heaven. Oh, guys. I've done this rewatch without tearing up at all but I'm about to tip over. The Impala pulls onto a bridge. Dean gets out. (Now your life's no longer empty, surely Heaven waits for you.) He stands at the bridge railing, enjoying Heaven, smiling. And then he feels something and he smiles even more because he knows it's Sam. Oh god, Jensen did such a good job here. Just this fucking smile killed me dead. "Hey, Sammy," he says. He turns and there is Sam, wearing the same outfit he wore in 1.01 (they both are, but Sam's is a bigger departure from his later years). Why? I don't know. But I know it means Sam Winchester is spending eternity in something that isn't a plaid shirt. How do we feel about that?

"Dean," Sam says. They face each other and smile, and it's the smile of we just survived a hunt I didn't think we'd survive or our son just overpowered God or something along those lines. Then they embrace, and I love the way Sam hesitates just a little before clapping a hand on Dean's back. Like he's afraid it isn't really happening, and he doesn't want to break the illusion. I also love that Dean, as always, takes the top (oh, get your minds out of the gutter) and hugs as if he were taller than Sam. Then Dean puts his hand on the back of Sam's neck and turns him to admire the view and he has this joyous smile like now, this is FINALLY Heaven. And he gazes at Sam like look, Sammy, look what we did. Look what we get. The lack of dialog in this scene is just ~chef's kiss~. The camera goes wide and we see the three main characters, Sam and Dean and Baby, enjoying the Heaven they deserve.

I would like to know where they filmed this, because it's gorgeous even without the Winchesters.

Did Sam's entire life go by in the span of Dean's drive? Or did Dean just decide he'd drive until his brother arrived, no matter how long it took? And how much do I love the fact that he could have gone and visited his parents but instead he said "nah, I'll drive around and wait for Sam?" SO MUCH, PEOPLE. SO MUCH.

Also, can we talk about the fact that Sam didn't know what to expect in Heaven? I mean, Ash said they were soulmates and would share a Heaven, but why would he believe that? And he might have even still believed he'd have a hard time getting into Heaven. What a relief it must have been to show up on Dean's bridge.

And then Jared and Jensen thank us. You're welcome, boys. Thank you.

So. Thursday night I was mildly positive about the episode. But on rewatch, I'm extremely positive. Sure, I would have loved the Six Feet Under ending where we see everyone's fate. And maybe that would have happened if not for Covid. But I'm just relieved we didn't get the Game of Thrones or How I Met Your Mother endings. I'm not sure this current cohort could have done better, honestly. Sam wanted a normal family life. Dean wanted Sam to have a normal family life. But Sam was never going to stop hunting as long as Dean was hunting. And Dean wasn't going to stop hunting as long as he was alive. Dean got the end he wanted/expected and the Heaven he earned (and Sam caring for Jack was directly responsible for Heaven's improvements). Sam got to live a normal life and have a family. As I said earlier, I suspect his marriage didn't last. (Or maybe he and Eileen or Cara got married for insurance purposes, and happily co-parented little Dean, but knew they weren't each other's one true love.) But I actually prefer that. Dean loved Sam more than he loved anyone. Sam loved Dean the same way. I'm glad Sam got to have a child (who he loves as much as his brother, but in a different way), but I don't want Sam and Dean to share their Heaven with Sam's wife.

Now, would I have done Dean's death differently? Yes. I did appreciate that they had him upright, so the brothers were face to face, just like AHBL. But being impaled on a spike was just less dramatic that I would have liked. I would have preferred that Sam immediately see his brother was dying, instead of Dean having to explain it to him. Dean could have had his jugular torn, slowly bleeding out, and still been on his knees (held up by Sam, hell yes) making his deathbed speech. And then I wouldn't have thought "would an ambulance be here by now if you'd called them?" halfway through it.

{Sidebar: What if Sam had fed Dean some blood from one of the dead vamps. Wouldn't that have kept him undead long enough to get fixed up, and then they could have done the vampire cure? Discuss.}

I know some people are very unhappy about the finale. Honestly, from what I can tell, most of those people are hard-core Destiel shippers. And I guess they wanted, as they always do, for the Dean and Castiel relationship to be more important than the Dean and Sam relationship. Sorry, guys, that was never gonna happen. In the end, it came down to the epic love story of Sam and Dean, just as it should have.

So, I'm sad and I'm happy. I'm bereft and I'm full. I miss my boys, but my boys will always be with me. I hope you guys will be with me for a long time, too.

#spn #15.20 #spoilers #recap #tv recaps

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nastybuckybarnes · 5 years ago

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Bad Dream - 9

Pairing: Dark!Steve X Reader

Summary: A year after wiping your memory and keeping you for himself, Steve Rogers is happy. Happier than he’s ever been. With you and your daughter, life couldn’t be any better. The only problem? You’re starting to remember things.

Warnings: Angst, Language (?)

Word Count: 1.5K

A/n: A short filler chapter that has some important info... get ready cause its gonna get real intense real quick! TAGS WILL BE ADDED WHEN I GET HOME FROM WORK!!

!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!!

MADNESS MASTERLIST ~ BAD DREAM MASTERLIST

~*~

He watches the way you hold Sarah close to your chest, the tender way you cradle her head and rock her back and forth, comforting yourself just as much as you’re comforting her.

He feels bad.

He actually feels guilty. He knows the way he treated you was wrong, that taking you the way he took you and hurting you the way he hurt you were both awful.

“Look at me,” he orders, his voice harder than he intended. You slowly open your eyes, holding the sleeping baby to your chest.

“I know you’re scared,” he begins, crouching down in front of you. “But you need to eat, okay? I know you’d rather die than do anything I say, but please eat.” He pushes the untouched plate of toast towards you, backing away after.

“Why?” You ask, eyes focused on his. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to elaborate.

“Why me? Why did you take me? You could’ve had any woman falling at your feet, so why kidnap me? Why not ask me on a date or something? Why go straight to taking me against my will?” He sighs and looks down at his hands.

“You were... helpless. You were vulnerable and I didn’t want to go through the anxiety of possible rejection. You’re weak, you can’t fend for yourself and you needed me to help you. I chose you because... you’re pretty and you’re smart and I know that you’d be the perfect little wife for me, after you were trained, of course.” You shake your head in disgust.

“I’m not your property. I’m a person.” He sighs and sits down in front of you, his eyes on Sarah, a strange softness to them.

“I think about the way we were. How excited you used to be to see me. You used to look forward to it. You’d have dinner on the stove and the house would be clean. I miss that. And... we could be that again… we don’t have to be this. I know it’ll take time, and I know you don’t trust me… but I can be good to you. You’ve just gotta listen,” he whispers, two fingers dragging gently over your tear-stained cheeks.

You tug away, looking down as fear fills you. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” He sighs and stands, looking at your broken form. “There’s an easy way and there’s a hard way. Do you want to give it a shot? I know I’ve been too rough... too harsh. And I’ll control my temper. I just... I need you. You’re my outlet. The only constant in my life.”

“And what about what I need? I need therapy. I need my family. I need to see a doctor,” you start rattling off items and Steve listens. He actually listens to what you're saying as you start hyperventilating.

“I need hobbies, I need my job, my friends. I need a life. I need... I need a doctor... I need a doctor” you repeat that last part, head spinning.

You weakly hold Sarah to your left shoulder while turning your head to the right and coughing, blood dribbling down your chin.

He crouches down in front of you as you slump back against the wall, eyes rolling back into your head.

“(Y/n)?” He slips Sarah out of your limp arms, holding the baby tightly.

“Nat! Buck!” The two assassins come running down the stairs, the redhead pushing forward and looking you over. From the bags under your eyes to the dullness of your skin. She presses two fingers to your neck, frowning at how weak your pulse is.

“She needs to see a doctor, Steve. Now.” Bucky’s already on the phone while Steve rocks Sarah in his arms.

“How long has it been since she ate last? She feels cold.” Steve tries to think about how long you’ve been down here and the food that you’ve barely been eating but that seems to be answer enough for Nat.

“She needs to eat. She's gonna need to be hooked up to an IV. She needs water, sunlight. She needs to be out of this fucking basement. You want to get on her good side? Treat her like a human, not a fucking animal.” Natasha takes Sarah out of Steve’s hands, humming softly to the baby while jerking her head towards your limp figure.

Steve crouches down and scoops you up in his arms, bringing you up the stairs and out of the cage-like basement.

“James, go run a bath for her. Not too hot. And get a glass of water with a straw. Have it room temperature.” Steve holds your body in his arms, a frown on his face as he realizes what he’s caused.

“Will she... is she gonna be okay?” Natasha scoffs at him. “Oh, you care now?” He shoots her a glare and she sighs, looking down at your emotionless face.

“I don’t know. When she gets a good amount of rest and eats again, maybe. But that’s only physically.” Steve nods, lips pressed together in a thin line.

Bucky comes back a few moments later, wiping his wet hands on his jeans then nodding at the blond.

Steve brings you to the master bathroom and struggles to hold you up and undress you.

“Hold her steady,” Nat says, shifting Sarah into her left arm and helping Steve undress you. He lowers you into the warm water gentle, stepping back when Natasha elbows him in the ribs.

“Leave. Put Sarah down for a nap, or something.” Steve listens, having far too much to ponder, and Natasha pulls the vanity stool beside the bathtub, settling on it and gently brushing your hair away from your face.

“What have we done to you,” she whispers softly.

She washes your body carefully, her heart aching at all the scars and bruises littering your body, no doubt from Steve.

When you’re clean, she gets Steve to help dress you then has him bring you to the master bedroom. He lies you down on the bed and sits beside you, a frown on his face.

~*~

“She’s malnourished. She just needs to be eating regularly and staying off her feet. She seems to be extremely stressed as well,” the doctor says softly, not wanting to wake you. Steve nods, smoothing your hair away from your face.

“I’ll make sure she relaxes. Thank you, Doctor.” The doctor nods and is quick to excuse himself from the room.

You slowly flutter your eyelids open, wincing against the harsh light then sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of Steve sitting beside you, his blue eyes trained on your face.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers softly, eyes never leaving yours. You take a few deep breaths then look around, confused.

“Where am I?” You ask softly. “Where you belong. In our bed.” You shake your head then wince when it throbs.

“Listen, I’m going to try and be better to you, nicer to you. I know it’ll take time, but I can treat you the way you deserve, I swear.” You stare into his eyes, calculating his intentions. He seems genuine. There's none of that hard anger that used to live in his eyes, instead, there’s only regret and sadness.

You say nothing, only look down at your hands. You don’t have a choice, you know that. You need to do this or else he’ll be angry with you again.

You nod once, keeping your eyes cast downwards, and he huffs a breath of relief. “I... I don’t even know where to start,” he confesses awkwardly, scratching the nape of his neck.

You open your mouth to speak then snap it shut again, not wanting to anger him.

“No, speak. Say what’s on your mind.” You keep your eyes down at your hands and hesitantly speak. “W-where’s Sarah? Can I... Can I see her? Please?” He nods, standing up quickly.

“She’s with Natasha. She was fussy a little while ago and she’s probably getting hungry.” He walks to the doorway and you find yourself slightly flabbergasted at his new demeanour.

You’re inspecting the IV in your arm, memories of a past life, a worse life, filling your head.

He comes back to you, your daughter bouncing happily in his hands. She looks over at you with a smile and reaches for you, clinging to you tightly when Steve sets her on your chest.

She looks up at you with those big innocent eyes and you can’t help but smile at her.

“I know I’ve... done some terrible things to you. But I want to start over. I want to be good to you, have you trust me again. But I know that it’ll take time.” You don’t look at him. You hardly even listen to him, not wanting to give him the light of day.

“I swear that I’ll never hurt Sarah. Ever. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I won’t hurt you the way that I have in the past. This is the start of something new for us. And I think we can really have a shot at being happy. Don't you?”

You still say nothing, not wanting to allow this man to know what you’re thinking. You can’t trust him. There’s nothing he could ever say or do that will make you trust him again.

#Steve Rogers #steve x reader #x reader #dark #darkfic #dark!steve #dark!fic #dark!steve rogers #dark!marvel #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!steve x reader #steve x reader dark fic #Steve x reader dark au #steve rogers x reader #Steve rogers x reader dark au #Steve rogers x reader Dark!fic #Steve rogers x reader dark fic

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earthfluuke · 4 years ago

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summary: they’re the protectors of the trees, have been since they sprouted. after so much time, he’s become comfortable; too comfortable to notice when things change.

did you think i could continue the nymph!tine universe without adding ohmfong into it? impossible! the two of them (along with phuak) are based on alseids (grove nymphs) from greek mythology, but as a reminder, they are anything i imagined them to be.

this also became far longer than i intended it to be. so...oops? regardless, i hope you enjoy!

(side note: margosa trees - also called neem trees - grow in thailand.)

parts: 1 / 2 / 2.5 / 3 / 3.5 / 3.5i

From the high branches of the apple tree, lone and unique amongst the grove of margosa not far away, Fong keeps a watchful eye on the ground below. Specifically, the human boy who dares to take a step closer to Tine. One wrong move, and he will be sliding down the trunk, bark scratches and splinters be damned, to his aid. Such is the life of himself, Ohm, and Phuak, the protectors of the trees, the field, and the creatures that dwell there.

The human boy tosses a blade to the ground behind him and raises his hands to his chest, fingers spread wide in surrender. Tine braves towards him, sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. While he relaxes, Fong only further tenses, fingers gripping the branch tighter, swirling patterns indenting into his palms. Tine is too quick to trust, leaving Fong to be the one to worry.

When he turns to the two nymphs above him, they seem to share his sentiment, if the creases to their brows and downturn of their lips are any indication. If there must be a soft spot for those they protect, they at the very least all agree to have the same one. To the three of them, that is Tine. And for him, they are attentive, subjecting themselves to a day of observation and scrutiny. But what else does one do for those that they love?

…

Humans are not so foreign to them. There are the occasional wanderers, free spirited couples who want to escape for a bit of privacy, curious explorers who collect leaves and twigs from the ground to shove into the satchels at their hips. But they are few and far between, never venturing in more than once.

Tine’s human boy, however, is an oddity. Every day without fail, he returns to the forest, walks through the trees until they part into an open meadow, and trails up the hill to the sole apple tree. Sunrise to sunset he stays, leaving with promises of a happy tomorrow.

It isn’t so much the human boy’s presence that concerns him. It instead is the light that reaches too high in Tine’s eyes. They all but glow, seeping a brightness across the fields when the sun sinks away. His cheeks push up too high, smile grows too wide, sighs become too dreamy. They are all warning signs that Fong knows better than to ignore.

Weaving between tree trunks, he follows the human boy through the grove. On the ground, he can see him closer, see a bit of what Tine must see in him. He has a handsome, angled face, sharp features that don’t quite match the softness in his eyes. Even from the tops of the trees, he can see the way they melt to enraptured fondness with merely a glance to Tine. There again comes his worry; the two of them make something so complicated so seemingly easy.

Fong is light on his feet, toes barely touching the dirt before he takes another step to keep up with the human boy’s longer legs. One with the wind, he resembles it whipping through the leaves, tearing those less fortunate from their stems, floating to the ground in a graceful dance. He is careful and calculated; a single step out of place puts him at risk.

It is a single step he takes. Misjudging the length he needs to take over a tree root, his foot catches. A pained hiss goes through his teeth, and he tumbles in perfect line with the human boy.

The first thing he notices when he regains his balance is the glint of a blade secured tightly at his waist. The second is the large, tan hand that covers it, ready to free it from its leather confines.

Fong is frozen still, eyes wide and unwavering from the gaze he has locked on the human boy. He stares back, still gripping the handle of his blade but making no move to draw it. It is as though each are waiting for the other to make a move, not daring to do so themselves. There is the perfect chance to dart away into the confines of the trees, and yet, he cannot bring himself to move nary a step.

Just as the human boy appears to want to move in closer and offer him his words, a cloud of dust huffs up between them. Feet hit the ground hard, the fall from the tree branches above kicking up twigs and rocks. Fong cannot see Ohm’s face, but it is all too obvious that he is angry. Squared back shoulders arch into long arms extended towards the ground, prepared to pull up the roots from the earth and trap the human boy within them.

He is on him before he can. It takes a series of progressively harder tugs on his hand to get Ohm to whip around and face him. Fire burns in his eyes, but it extinguishes when they meet Fong. Fear flashes through them, then grief, and then anger once more. But it is different than the first kind, more guilty than aggressive.

Before Fong can study him further, Ohm dashes through the trees, disappearing beyond the hills. The human boy is still looking at him, clearly perplexed from their exchange, but it is he who supplies an explanation with the single whisper of, “blood.”

Fingers rise to his cheek, find a wet pool that stings when touched, and when he pulls them back, they are tinted red. Somewhere between the dust and the fury, some of the kick up must have struck him.

He acknowledges the human boy with a nod before taking after his fellow nymph. From what he has seen, Tine’s human boy has far from bad intentions, considering how many chances he had to harm him, all of which he did not take. And regardless, there is something much more pressing he needs to see to.

…

It is not difficult to find where Ohm has escaped to. Just beyond Tine’s apple tree, down the far side of the hill, there sits a river. And on the banks, nestled between the cattails, he is crouched, head down, spine curved. A step closer, and Fong can see a scaled hand resting upon his cheek in comfort, webbed fingers spreading over his ashen skin.

Pear notices him almost instantaneously. She turns to look at him; the pink scales curving up towards her temples flicker gold beneath the sun, and her eyes grow soft with sympathy. He cannot make out the words she hushes to Ohm, but as she dives beneath the water, he glances over his shoulder. The flinch he gives matches the sharp pang Fong feels deep in his chest, just beyond his ribs, when he sees the remorse growing in his eyes, grief fading in just behind.

Two long glides, and Fong is on him, warming the cheek that Pear had left to grow cold. Thumb grazing over the indents of the vine that outlines his cheekbone, he forces a smile, hoping to rid the sorrow from his eyes; it hurts more than any cut ever could.

Those eyes – usually so big, so bright, full of mischief and unspoken plans between himself and Phuak – fixate on where the tree branch struck. Trembling fingers brave a graze so light he could have imagined it, and then his hand rests just beneath it, a hold mirroring the very one Fong has on him. More pain grows in from his pupils, spreading towards the edges of his dark brown irises until they are encompassed in a sadness too deep for Fong to bear.

He leans forward until their foreheads touch and their noses ever so carefully tuck into each other. He can feel Ohm’s breath feather onto his skin, rapid and staggered. Fingers stroke out towards his ear to say I’m okay while his thumb brushes just under his lashes to plead please don’t be so angry with yourself.

Ohm turns, forehead bumping his temple and rubbing against it. Each nuzzle presses an apology into his skin, gentle but not enough to go unnoticed. Fong feels it clearly, how much he means it, how badly he needs Fong to know it. And though he knew from the moment he saw the heaviness in his eyes, he stays still, not daring a move until Ohm feels he’s done enough.

It isn’t much, not for Ohm. For him, it’s always been different. Phuak has always been as close as a friend can be, a better one than Fong ever believed he deserved. Tine is the one he protects with a fierceness strong enough to topple trees and flood oceans. But Ohm…he doesn’t believe there’s a word to describe just what he is.

He is beside him before Fong knows he needs him. He follows in his steps or creates a path for Fong to follow. There is more said between them in single glances and lingering smiles than could ever be expressed through words. Where Ohm is, there is understanding, endless joy, a comfort that emerged one day and never left.

What one titles that, Fong hasn’t a clue. All he knows is that Ohm is forever, and staying like this, for as long as he needs, is nothing (and everything) in the grand scheme of things.

…

The next time the human boy visits, it’s with a string instrument in hand and a few more hearts to his eyes. Each moment passes by with his skilled strums, the birds drawn to the sound tuning their songs to match his melody. Tine’s attempts follow, unexperienced and clumsy and yet still met with soft praise. The back and forth floats to the treetops, to where Fong is perched with a hand pressed firmly into his lower back.

No longer red and stark, the scratch on his cheek should not be as offensive to Ohm as it once was. There is nothing to scream blame at him, no physical remnant of what he so wholeheartedly believes is his personal act of sin. And still, everywhere Fong goes, each turn he takes, a hand follows. Sometimes it hovers, a quiet whisper of protection. And other times, such as this, it is obvious, noticeable to an almost absurd degree.

He is not glass, has never been treated as such. He is resourceful, wise beyond his years, quick to a plan before others can so much as ponder the situation at hand. Proven himself for as long as the margosa grove has stood, he refuses to play weak for anyone.

But Ohm is not anyone, and anyone is not Ohm. And furthermore, does it make one weak to do what is right for your one’s – your only’s – peace of mind? Because regardless of his actions, Ohm’s trust in Fong’s strength has not wavered. It has instead pushed itself to the back of his mind in favor of guilt taking over the forefront, hazing his judgement with a desperate need for remedy. Perhaps it is not Fong at all, but Ohm feeling burdened by the wrong he believes he has done and this – the hovering, the following, the hands – is his way of making things right.

Regardless of reason, Fong has made his choice. If the price to pay for Ohm trusting himself again is a constant weight on his back and eyes on his cheek, then he will pay it proudly. There is strength in helping the ones you love. And as the human boy’s song plays on and Fong looks to Ohm – and Ohm looks to him, as he has been doing without fail – he cannot help but think of what little there is that he will not do if it is for him. It is as simple as breathing.

…

They came into this world on a sprout, grew along with it until it breached the skyline and was no longer lonely, surrounded by a collection of other trees that would become their home. The roots grew through their bodies, wound up around their arms and rose to their cheeks, tinting them the green of the margosa leaves. And from that very beginning, Ohm had been a beacon of light.

Brighter than the sun, the stars, and the moon combined, he brings warmth to every creature he meets. It bleeds out from his smile and into their chests, engulfing their hearts and melting it deeper into them until they ache with swelled emotion. Fong finds it so fitting that when the day breaks and the sun hits his skin, he shines a golden yellow as a symbol of all that is right and good in the small world they’ve created around them.

So when Tine shows off the flower crown he has woven for his human boy and that light within Ohm dims, Fong cannot help but recognize how wrong it feels. There is a hollowness to his eyes, empty and cold enough to send a shiver through Fong’s spine.

For a meadow nymph like Tine, this crown is special; to gift someone an object of his own creation, made from the flowers he bloomed from the very tips of his fingers, is no small feat. There is an unmeasurable amount of trust in a gesture that big, and for a moment, Fong believes that to be why Ohm has extinguished. They are protectors, and to him, Tine’s human boy must still be a threat. He is worried, Fong thinks as the skin around Ohm’s jaw tightens. He does not want to see him get hurt.

But no matter the worry or fear they may have over his decisions, Tine’s happiness is what holds most importance to them. However, when Tine lifts his creation, proud smile on his lips and hope squeezing his eyes to crescents, Ohm turns on his heel, showing his back to them before stalking out of the meadow and back towards the grove.

It is then that Fong realizes that none of this has to do with the human boy. Even more troubling is that he hasn’t a clue of what it does. He and Phuak are quick to reassure Tine with returned smiles and pats to his head. In between it all, they manage shared glances, each holding the same sentiment. Pray tell this is just a flicker, and he has not burned out entirely.

…

Starlight kisses his skin, patterns of the spaces between the leaves dancing across his cheeks and reflecting up into his eyes. There are just some moments in life that do not feel real, even when they are seen in person, and Fong believes this to be one of those.

Ohm has always been a familiar kind of beautiful, one that makes him feel safe. Crouched upon a branch of one of the margosa trees, the soft curve of his jaw stretches to get a better look at the sky, lips spreading slowly into a content smile. Under the light, he is still golden, but this kind is fainter, brighter, more ethereal. While he is entranced by the stars, Fong is entranced by him, because what could they possibly hold to this picture he wishes to etch into his memory for however long he has?

When he does take notice of him – because he always does, as if there is a sixth sense that only registers as Fong within him – his lips stretch further as he reaches his hand out to him. It is familiar, too familiar, and only when Fong takes hold does realization catch up to him, a swarm of memories flooding back to his mind.

The hands that he’d believed to be a phase of heightened worry that would slowly fade as his cut did are here; his cut is not. And his eyes dazzle into him, unwavering from the gaze he before had on his cheek and now has through his eyes and into his soul. That too should have gone when he healed, and yet, they both stay. Or is it that they never left in the first place?

Or could it be they had been there the entire time?

Pasts of fingers circling his wrist as he crossed the river on unsteady stones and palms brushing tears from his cheeks when Phuak removed a splinter from his foot. Histories of pinpricked pupils narrowing in on him when the first human to explore their grove came and crinkled eye-smiles first thing in the morning, saved only for him. Memory after memory, too many to count, so many he has overlooked. Always, Ohm has been there, looking at him the same, holding him the same, and he has never noticed. Because that is Ohm; it has always been Ohm. Fong has just gotten too comfortable with what they are – what they always have been – that he has been blind to things becoming so much more.

And now, he cannot focus on anything but. Every touch, every look, it is, it has, it will always be, their normal. What does it mean? What has it meant? Must it mean anything at all? It must, with the rate his heart quickens and the slight shake to his knees.

Thoughts consume him, and it’s all too much. It’s dizzying, how fast one’s mind can work. He clutches to Ohm’s bicep, hugs it close to keep his balance on the branch. Surely, he has done so before, subconsciously with far less concern. It is all he can do. That, and look at the stars; all he can see in them is Ohm.

…

After that night beneath the stars, Fong needs time to think. Realization hit him square in the chest and knocked all of the wind out of him. His nights are filled with those hands, those eyes, and something more. Breath on his neck, lips fitting against his own, arms catch around his lower back as he spins and spins and spins until he wakes to the only nymph to blame for this mess.

It is the day he uses as an escape, a time to distract himself in hopes of it bringing clarity. And the universe has blessed him with the perfect opportunity.

He was created to protect his tree grove and the creatures around it, and the stream just beyond Tine’s apple tree is no exception. Another human appears one day, a girl this time, and she does not stray from the place she’s made for herself on the water’s banks. She creates colors with her hands, a magic Fong was unaware humans possessed, and every so often, she looks up as though she’s expecting something. Every time she looks down, the hope in her eyes fades just a bit more.

It is not so difficult to decipher just what (who) she’s looking for, but it becomes even easier when he finds Pear at the mouth of her river – farther up on a shallow overhang of cliffs – staring down at the human girl with interest and hesitation. It is as though her body wants to go to her, but her mind shouts wait.

And she does, in a way. Each day the human girl comes, Pear inches that littlest bit closer, just to watch her, as though she’s trying to figure out everything there could be to know about her. Where she goes, Fong follows. She provides the sort of silence he needs when his mind is too loud.

On the third day, they’ve traveled far enough down the river to where he can see Tine’s apple tree as well as the two figures situated in the branches. While he’s gone off with Pear, someone has to look after Tine. Or in this case, someones. Ohm could have followed him, and if this were any other time, he would have. But he knows this is something Fong needs to do on his own, because he always knows. And that’s what makes this ever so hard.

It is odd to be apart. He discovers so on the fifth day when he sees Ohm’s shoulders bounce in what he can only assume to be laughter. An emptiness grows in the center of his chest, sinking his heart to the very pits of his stomach. They’ve never strayed far from each other, and this. This must be why. Has he felt a pain like this before? Has anything hurt him so terribly that he could feel it course through his roots and squeeze him tight?

Only one thing has. Seven days gone, and Pear has taken her leap. It is more of a tip toe to the human girl’s side, one that startles her when Pear reaches for her magic colors. But it is not long before they fall into one another. Shoulders brush, wrists cross. Pear smiles, and the human girl’s cheeks flush the same shade of pink as the magic color on the tips of Pear’s fingers.

The closeness they share is the same kind that Tine and his human boy have. It is something that Fong should envy but never has. The question of why is followed quickly by you know.

A glance to the tree tops is all he needs. He need not be jealous for he has a closeness of his own, has for far more than his mind has ever let him remember. Long before human boys and human girls, there were nymphs. Some with shimmering scales, others with blossoms at their fingertips. But there has only ever been one for Fong, something he had not understood until his cheek was gashed and he felt an ice-cold ache, more painful than any other he’d felt before, from eyes filled with irrefutable guilt.

…

Pear’s human girl presents her with a water lily. Fingers part back her hair to tuck it behind her ear where it sits proudly against her temple. Its soft gradient from white to purple radiates Pear perfectly, dainty with a striking, breathless kind of beauty that cannot be ignored. It is an altogether excellent choice, if the kiss the human girl receives is any indication.

Feeling as though he is intruding on a far too intimate moment, he turns and finds himself upon Ohm. His eyes dart away as well, but rather than out of respect, it appears he does so out of disdain. His expression carries the same anger it did when Tine showed off the flower crown he’d crafted for his human boy, the one he and Phuak could not comprehend.

A blink for clarity, he looks closer, really looks, and sees the sadness in the creases between his brows and the sharp bite he has on his lower lip. He’ll draw blood, Fong is sure, but he pulls back before he can surge forward. Just as he cannot break into Pear and her human girl’s private moments, he cannot do so to Ohm’s either; he is not entitled to that, regardless of the personal revelations he’s had within these last few days.

All he can do is shift back onto his hands and stare up to the sky, wondering what it is about humans and flowers that makes Ohm so heartbroken.

…

Fong is greeted back to the meadow with music and laughter. Tine is on his feet, each step leaving clusters of pink peonies; he dances around his human boy as he strums his strings and tries to catch him into a kiss. Pear and her human girl have joined them, spinning each other around and dissolving into fits of giggles when they are right way around again. There is not necessarily a reason for such festivities other than the thrill of being alive, but he supposes that is good enough reason as any.

Celebration circles through the air so thick that Fong can feel it. It warms his toes and melts his lips to a smile, but a chill passes over his shoulders from farther away. At the outskirts of the margosa grove, Ohm stands, leant against a tree trunk. His eyes, as they always seem to be, are locked onto him.

They are sad, though not in the same way as they were the day Pear’s human girl gifted her the water lily. This kind is a lonely kind of sadness, the kind that whispers I’ve missed you only loud enough for Fong, and Fong alone, to hear.

It drives him forward. That, and the notion that so many days have passed since they’ve been in each other’s presence. He hates it. He had to sort himself out, but he detests that it has caused this. His sunshine should always be bright, not this cloudy overcast with the chance of tears.

Standing in front of him, the closest he’s come to him in what feels like a millennium, he near breaks. But for Ohm, on the brink of shattering himself, he holds himself together and does for him what he’s done so many times for Fong; he reaches forward, palm up and ready to be taken. Every memory he’s recollected has Ohm taking hold of him and not letting go. This time, the first he plans of so many, he’ll hold him.

Fingers grip between his, squeezing tight enough to bruise. For all of the confusion Fong has had, Ohm has only experienced fear. That he would not return, that he was gone without a goodbye. And that, he has to rectify.

Pulling him forward, Fong manages to take back his hand and slip it around Ohm’s shoulders. The other finds the back of his head and presses his face to the bend of his collarbone. With strokes over his hair, nails catching over tangles and smoothing them out, he buries his nose into curve of his ear and inhales deep.

Grass, tree bark, apples, and something warm. It’s Ohm, it’s home, and Fong promises himself that never again can he stray for as long as he has. Here, cradling sunshine in his arms, is the only place he belongs, the only place he wants to be. It is an honor to hold up the sun, keep the light alive and burning, and it is not a privilege he plans to forget.

Ohm grasps at the back of his tunic, bunching the fabric up in his hands as though it will disappear if he is not strong enough. His breath is staggered, finally exhaling after days of not allowing himself to. And that’s a thought, isn’t it? By taking himself away, he’s taken away the very thing that allows Ohm to live. A day longer, and Fong would have found him beneath the tree he grew from, the two of them withered and alone.

Lips brush over the shell of his ear, gentle kisses unspoken promises of the forever Fong has always thought him to be. He’s never imagined a future where Ohm is not beside him, but it is more than that; he sees that now. Without Ohm, there simply is no future for him. When Ohm goes, so will he, their lives intertwined from beginning to end.

The music continues to play, but their own celebration continues in the privacy of the trees. Here, with Ohm in his arms, is not where their forever starts. No, that begun long ago. It is where it continues, with the promise that it will be as near to perfect as the universe allows.

…

Soft weight falls upon his head. His eyes roll up, hoping for a glimpse. Met with only rounded shadows, he reaches up, and his fingers find velvet, delicate to the touch. Taking it in both hands, he lowers it carefully to find a wreath of sunflowers, adorned with margosa leaves.

Unwavering, unconditional love with personal touches of the past woven in between. It’s so light, but it’s meaning is heavy, keeps him holding on tighter lest something tragic happen to it.

Just past where it rests in his hands, shifting from foot to foot, is Ohm. Not meeting his eyes, he waits for what Fong is unsure of. Perhaps for him to shove it back at him in rejection or stomp it into the dirt in disgust. It is within these nerves that Fong finds familiarity: a tight jaw and sad eyes.

He’s seen it before, with Tine’s flower crown and Pear’s water lily. It is not quite jealousy, nor is it resentment. It is instead a crushed desire, a hope he does not allow himself to have. It is the unexplainable want to be those humans. To have and to hold some part of the one they love; to give part of themselves to the one they trust most to take care of it.

That’s what this is. It’s unmistakable. Golden petals match the reflect across Ohm’s cheeks, in his smile, through the brown of his irises that shine just that slightest bit warmer. For so long, Ohm has yearned to give himself to him. And finally, he feels as though he can.

Situating it back onto his head, he takes Ohm’s hands into his. They are as warm as they should be. Ohm dares a glimpse, and the joy that bursts through him makes Fong smile. It’s a bit of a dance, the way Ohm pulls on his arms and catches him around the waist when he falls against his chest, but it is one he’d do a thousand times over if it keeps his sunshine hanging high in the sky, bright and brilliant, as he should be.

An honor, he thinks as Ohm leans down, captures his lips with his own. It is an honor to hold a piece of him, to be trusted this much. He is meant to care for every creature in the grove, in the meadow, in the river and forest beyond. Ohm has always been included in that; he was the very first after all.

#2gether #2gether the series #still2gether #still2gether the series #ohmfong #ohm x fong #nymph!tine au #nymph au #so many nymphs at this point woo!!#also if you ever have questions or comments on this please send them to me!!#i'm way too invested in this au and i love talking about it #my writing

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zigtheeortega · 4 years ago

Text

mementos

✿ pairing: logan x mc

✿ word count: 3792

✿ warnings: cursing

✿ tags: @beccadavenport ; @agentsewell ; @agentdumortain ; @violinet ; @serafinedupont ; @messofakind ; @felix-hauville ; @troublemakerinspace ; @pixeljazzy ; @rodappreciationweek

✿ author’s note: a big thank you to @choicesarehard for gifting me this idea because lord knows i was stuck trying to come up with a fic idea for rodaw. action writing is hard, y’all. if you get confused just know i’ve never broken into a house so i have no clue what i’m doing :) (lmao or have i) (i have not)

•─────────✦✿✦────────•

The sound of his boots slapping against the damp pavement reverberated off of the brick of the alleyways, his gasping breaths adding to the symphony that was his escape.

He grasped the short straps of the bookbag, yanking down towards the ground, tightening them. The lack of bouncing helped his momentum; he pumped his arms, using the newfound aerodynamics to increase his stride.

“Hey! Hey! You there, stop!” A voice called from behind him, but he could barely hear the cops over the thumps of his own heart, the steady bass in his ears that set the tempo of his gait.

He quickly side stepped, sliding into another alley, feet skidding expertly against the ground, before launching into a harder sprint to gear up for a leap.

He was in the air before they turned the corner, just narrowly avoiding the beam from the flashlight as he descended over the wooden fence. He was thankful for the parts of L.A. that didn’t make sense, like the hive of businesses over their tiny sliver of properties.

He kept running until he approached a nearby storm drain, inconspicuously tagged with two lines of blue spray paint, which to the normal person could look like a landmarker for construction workers, but for him was his starting point to his escape route.

Gripping the edge of the sidewalk, he angled himself inwards, turning on his stomach when he was halfway in so he could safely drop to the shallow murky water below.

He held his breath, hearing the jingling of handcuffs and keys above him, the micro-stampede of heavy footsteps fading in and out as they passed the drain’s opening.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Logan ripped the ski mask from his head, freeing his thick locks, stray strands clinging to his face – and let out a triumphant, breathy laugh, echoing off of the concrete walls.

He did it. He’d pulled it off.

The greatest heist he��d ever orchestrated, all for the contents of her bookbag.

----

“I’m chilly.”

“Really? It’s pretty warm out right now,” he said, draping an arm around her shoulders as soon as the car came to a halt at the stoplight.

“You know I’m cold natured, Logan,” she pursed her lips, leaning into his embrace.

“You want my work shirt? I just washed it.” He reached back, feeling for the fabric underneath his fingertips. “It smells like me, and I know you love that shit.”

“It’s a little too thin for my liking. I’m sorry,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. “I just don’t like bothering anyone with my complaining when I could just slip a jacket on.”

“Hey, don’t apologize for not being comfortable, baby,” he kissed her hair, murmuring into the crown of her head.

She reached over to turn the air off, and soon enough the dry warmth of L.A. crept into the periphery of the front seats.

“I just really wish I had my stuff, you know? I don’t really feel normal with just the clothes off my back and whatever I can bum from Mona and Xi and you,” she motioned at the plain white tee she’d stolen from Logan’s drawer full of them, and her jeans she’d ran away in.

“You know, I left my textbooks, my homework, my calculator – God, my whole bookbag –” She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a sharp breath. “My Langston sweatshirt…” She covered her eyes with her hands, leaning onto her knees.

When she sniffled, his chest twinged. “Aw, Raquel…”

“No, no, I’m okay I’m just… still a little sad about it. I’ll be fine,” she leaned back, quickly wiping her wet eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m just attached, you know?”

“Hey… stop that,” he said, reaching over to gently take her hand in his, lacing their hands together, resting them on the central console behind the gearshift. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Not to you…” She sighed again. She left it at that for a while, letting the melodic rumble of the engine fill the air, a comfortable silence settling between them.

“I could go get that stuff for you.”

“Logan, no, I don’t want you spending any of your hard-earned money on me –”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Her eyes widened. “Hell no. I could never ask you to do that for me.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering,” he smirked, winking.

“Well, I’m not accepting.”

“And?” He egged her on, smirk fully intact.

She rolled her eyes. “And – you could get hurt. And I’m not okay with that. My dad isn’t exactly the most forgiving right now, if you couldn’t tell.”

He slowed to a crawl, tapping the garage door opener clipped to the sun visor, waiting for the door to slide open. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve done this type of shit before.”

“Yeah, you’ve done higher risk stuff than this, but this is different, and you know it.”

He expertly reversed parked into the tight spot, leaning back, bracing his arm on the headrest of the passenger seat, one hand on the wheel to guide the car into place.

When she looked up, his face was nearly touching her own, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the vein on his bicep, trailing upwards to the sharp angle of his jaw, settling on the smug look that seemed almost permanent. “You like what you see?”

Before she could answer with a quip of her own, he’d put the car into park and grasped her face between his rough hands, kissing her with enough delicate passion to make her head spin.

“So that’s settled. I’ll get it tonight,” he purred against her neck, lightly nipping the spot that made her toes curl.

“Yeah sure, whatever…” she sighed, a near moan slipping out as she trailed off.

He pulled back, winking. “That’s what I thought.”

----

“Right here. Put it in park,” he said, looking out the window.

He hopped out of the car, tagging the concrete with two lines. When he slid back into the passenger seat, she eyed him. “Just tagging the drain so I know where to go in.”

“Are you sure about this, Lo? Really sure?” She gripped the wheel, knuckles white. “I don’t have to spell out how badly this could end, do I?”

“Yeah. It’s my risk to take.” He leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Anything for my girl.”

----

She checked the burner phone again, nervously bouncing her leg, her knee knocking against the wheel.

Logan was supposed to call twenty minutes ago. He said if he didn’t show up within the hour, to just leave him and call Xi. He was adamant on avoiding telling Teppei at all costs.

She tapped out a frantic text to the only number in the phone, but immediately decided against it, flipping it closed and tossing it into the passenger seat so she wouldn’t be tempted to check the time again.

She opened up her glove compartment, browsing the few CD’s she’d tossed in haphazardly, grateful for them, as archaic as they were.

She popped a random disc into the slot, and flicked the volume button on her steering wheel until she was distracted enough by the rhythmic bass flowing out of the speakers, her heart nearly in time with the upbeat tempo.

No matter how many times Logan put himself in danger, she couldn’t get used to the death grip her anxiety had on her stomach, her chest, her throat.

She focused on bobbing her leg to the drums, evening her pulse out to the lyrics, and breathing in and out each stanza, each verse bringing her closer to a steady heartbeat.

----

He adjusted the makeshift mask on his face, thankful he could at least breathe through the narrow slit he’d cut for his mouth.

He’d snagged one of Toby’s plain black beanies, and DIY-ed the hell out of it. No sense in spending the money on for a one-time use, he thought.

A ski mask was cliche as hell, and would definitely cut down on his total time to finish the job (because who wasn’t going to call the cops when they saw a sketchy guy in a mask) but it was gonna be much harder for them to identify a suspect with no identifiable tattoos in a plain white tee than if his chiseled face and silky hair were on display for the whole neighborhood to see.

Patting his pockets to make sure his lockpick, burner, and knife were there, he approached the house. He slipped his leather gloves on, eyes darting across the street. He watched for movement, for any sign of life, despite it being the dead of night.

There was no doubt that the suburb had a neighborhood watch program. If a cop felt safe living there, it was a tight ship.

Breaking into a cop’s house was the stupidest idea Logan had conceived, next to lying to Raquel about… everything.

He’d started off stringing her along (he’d never forgive himself for not appreciating her sooner), but her sincerity and tenacity made him cave the more and more time he spent with her.

She was everything he wanted to be – and everything he wanted for himself.

So when he had to break the illusion and tell her the truth, the guilt ate him alive. He promised himself that he would do anything to make it up to her, no matter how crazy it was.

He’d tested her loyalty, and she was fiercely devoted through it all, despite never owing him a damn thing in the first place. And that scared him. As much as he liked her, he was slightly on edge all of the time. In truth, he was waiting for her to bolt when things got bad, like anyone else would, including him.

He wanted to prove to her that there were reasons to stay – if one of those reasons was a sweatshirt, he was going to do everything in his power to get it back.

There were no cars in the driveway, as Raquel had predicted. He always worked a night shift on Thursday nights so he could grab her breakfast on the way home before she left for school.

She smiled sadly when she told him, and it cut deeper knowing he’d brought her into his world and ripped those precious moments away from her.

He crept up the edge of the driveway, thankful that the nearest lamppost was nearly out, flickering an orange tinted light that barely touched the Olvera’s lawn.

He sprinted to the side of the house, inching along as he tried to recall the blueprint she’d scribbled out for him.

----

“There’s two bedrooms. One right next to the kitchen – that’s dad’s – and one down the hallway. That’s mine,” Raquel said, sketching out the layout of her house on a scrap of paper. “My window faces the backyard, so if you can make it back there, it should be easy to get in.”

He peppered kisses across the back of her neck from behind her, an arm gripping her waist. “Lo, I can’t concentrate if you’re kissing me like that,” she breathed, clicking the pen shut, dropping it on the table.

“Ah, we’ve got time. Don’t worry about it,” he murmured against her earlobe, eliciting a shudder from her, watching the goosebumps raise on the skin of her arms. He never got tired of making her body react to his touch.

“No, we have to get it right. You have to take this seriously,” she turned in his grip, planting her hands on both sides of his face, forcing him to hold her searing gaze. “Please promise me you’re gonna bail if you think it’s unsafe.”

“I promise,” he leaned in, sealing it with a kiss.

----

He approached the short fence, using one arm to prop himself up, and a leg against the wall to push himself over. Once his feet hit the grass, he did a quick sweep of the perimeter, looking for a censor, a trip wire, a laser – anything.

The backyard was bare, the only indication of use being the rusty gas grill with a broken wheel in the middle of the yard, a tarp haphazardly covering half of it.

He took a few cautious steps forward, his boots crunching the dry grass.

Damn the L.A. drought, he thought, attempting to tiptoe.

He reached a dip in the brick wall, realizing that the patio and back door were right next to him. He dared taking a peep, thankful there wasn’t any activity in the house from where he was.

Just to be safe, he crouched, crawling on his stomach until he reached the other side of the small patio. His heart rate sped up the closer he got to her window, so when he recognized her window (undoubtedly hers, because he spotted her lavender curtains), his pulse was quick.

He dug his fingers under the sill, gently pulling to see if it’d budge – and it did.

He wasn’t used to jobs going this smoothly. As young as he was, he wasn’t naive. He was anticipating something bad happening, so he let that anxiety fuel his edge to make sure he didn’t lose sight of his goal.

He tugged the window up, thankful that it didn’t creak. He slipped his boots off, leaving them in the sill in case it fell shut, shuffling across the floor, his sock-clad feet virtually silent.

He noticed her sweatshirt right away, slung haphazardly across the back of her desk chair, clearly her go-to comfort since its place was at her study haven.

He saw her backpack second, neatly hung on the edge of her bed, zippers zipped all on the same side, not even so much as a pop tart wrapper in her drink pocket.

Lastly, he surveyed her desk, which made his face contort in regret, an empathetic grimace underneath his mask.

She’d left a textbook open, her pencil bag unzipped, her highlighters scattered across the desk – she’d been interrupted when she left. She was studying, trying to maintain her Valedictorian status, hopefully to get scholarships for Langston, and he’d ripped it away from her.

All because of her entanglement with him.

He started by packing up her writing tools with care, as well as her textbooks, placing them delicately into her bookbag, partially because he wanted to be quiet, but also because he didn’t want to fuck anything up more than he already had.

He went back to grab her calculator, eyes flitting to the framed picture next to her lamp. It was Raquel and a woman he presumed was her mom. They were grinning from cheek to cheek, faces pressed against each other, her arm wrapped around her mother’s neck.

Her eyes were bright, her smile even brighter. And she looked just like her mom, so much that it hurt him to look at Mrs. Olvera, knowing vaguely of her fate.

He knew it was a bad idea, but he did it anyway. He flicked the knobs on the back of the frame, slipping the photo out, gently placing it between the cover and the first page of her Calculus textbook.

He folded the sweatshirt neatly, tucking it into the backpack, before zipping it closed. He dropped it out of the window and onto the grass, before sticking one foot out, ducking underneath the sill, almost all the way on the other side.

He miscalculated, landing on the outer edge of his foot instead of the ball of his foot, his ankle buckling ever so slightly. His back bumped up against his boots, which were still in the frame of the window, and they both fell, the thud echoing in the still house.

He grabbed them quickly, not thinking anything of it, until he saw a stream of light, presumably from the hall, streak across the carpet.

Mr. Olvera was home.

Logan’s heart was deafening in his ears. He laced his boots in a frenzy, slinging the backpack over his back, inching towards the side of the house closest to him.

He tried maneuvering over the fence the same way he did when he came in, but his hands were so uncharacteristically shaky, that he slipped, banging his knee against the wood, clambering over loudly.

As soon as his feet hit the grass, he was running.

At this point, he knew that someone had called the cops. Probably Mr. Olvera. But he wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

He practically glided through the wind, using each desperate step to launch himself forward as he pumped his arms to go as fast as humanly possible.

The bookbag flopped against his back, the textbooks heavy, but he couldn’t focus on anything except sprinting out of the neighborhood.

He turned the corner onto the main road of the suburb, his muscles screaming out for him to slow down, but the ache only fueled him to go faster.

C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! You’re so fucking close, you just have to make it to the storm drain, he thought, chanting his game plan to motivate himself to push through his exhaustion.

He passed the entrance sign to the suburbs, thankful that he was nearing the part of the city he’d planned to use as his escape.

He sprinted towards the brick buildings, panting heavily, the material of his makeshift mask sticking to his skin, sweating profusely through the fabric.

Just as he reached up, ready to rip off the mask for some relief, he heard a siren, the blue and red lights reflecting off the pavement in front of him.

“Oh shit –” he gasped, when he realized that another cop car was approaching, trying to trap him.

----

Raquel tapped her fingers against the wheel, adjusted the rearview mirror, checked her phone, and then switched the song – like clockwork. She was trying to keep herself preoccupied so that she wouldn’t fixate on the time, each passing minute building on the dread that weighed down her stomach. Each minute was like another pound, and she was already feeling so anchored that she could barely stand it.

“Call Xi. Post bail. Hide out till Teppei calms down,” she whispered to herself over and over, the definite plans the only thing anchoring her.

After she repeated that until the words didn’t sound real, she flipped her phone open, and typed Ximena’s number from memory. It was her burner’s number, so it was crucial that Raquel have it memorized.

499–1304. 499–1304. 499–1304.

She wasn’t sure how long she could rhythmically tap out the digits to the beat of the song without going insane.

Minutes later, after she’d started trying to memorize the lyrics to a song she’d never heard before, the flip phone vibrated against the dashboard.

She answered on the first ring. She wanted so desperately to call his name out, to make sure it was him, but he told her that under no circumstances should they give away personal information, especially their names.

“I got it. Meet me in five,” he panted heavily, his voice echoing and sounding distant, like he was in another room.

As soon as he hung up, she gunned it towards the second storm drain he’d tagged for her. When she saw the two lines followed by a heart, relief flooded over her.

----

Ten minutes later, she watched as her school backpack was flung out of the crack and into the middle of the street; Logan’s body followed soon after, his arms straining with effort to pull himself out.

Once he stood up, he made a final sprint towards the car, faintly staggering as he struggled to open up the passenger’s door.

He fell inside, gasping, “Go, go, go!” and she floored it, not speaking until they were a safe distance from the scene of the crime.

She parked underneath an old bridge closeby the garage. She couldn’t stand not speaking to him – she had to know if he was okay.

But as soon as her hand was off of the gearshift, his hands were on her, his gloves abandoned on the floor mat of the passenger’s seat, his clammy palms gripping her jaw as he kissed her deeply.

Any questions she had evaporated, her skin warming underneath his touch. She hummed contentedly, tasting the salt on his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his damp hair.

He smiled against her mouth, pressing a tender kiss to her parted lips before pulling back to look at her. “Sorry, I took so long, baby.”

He kept his left hand on her face, the other reaching back to grab the bookbag. “I grabbed your textbooks, and your pencil case, and your sweatshirt… and something else.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh god, Logan, what did you take –”

“Nothing bad. Don’t worry.” His smile was soft, hinting at sheepish. He pulled out the Calculus textbook, handing it to her. “Open it. It should be at the very front.”

She did as he said, creaking open the old book. Her chin dimpled, her bottom lip shaking. “Lo…” she whispered, raising the photo by its corners.

“I figured, if your sweatshirt reminded you of your dad, you’d need something for Mrs. Olvera, too,” he rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone, catching a stray tear on the tip of it.

She put the photo back into its place at the front of the textbook, and thrust herself across the center console and into his arms, murmuring incoherent thank-yous in between sobs.

Even if it wasn’t enough in the grand scheme of things, it was enough to keep Raquel there with him longer. It bought him precious time with her that he might not have gotten otherwise.

He gripped her tightly, letting her cry, his guilt satiated by the sweet nothings she whispered into his ear. Regardless of his covetous feelings towards parents, Logan felt a level of love and gratitude from Raquel in that moment that made him nearly forget the list of things he’d made a habit of wishing for.

He had what he needed right in front of him. And he’d sacrifice anything – risk it all – to keep it that way.

“Anything for my girl.”

----

#playchoices #choices rod #rod #rod logan #logan x mc #rodaw #jade writes choices fics #cw: police

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chiimmchiimm · 5 years ago

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❝ 𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓷 !¡ 𝒿𝓀 ❞

The largest herd on the entire East Coast would have a new leader. Qualities were of utmost importance to them, a good alpha had to possess a sense of justice and a beta woman to augment his legacy. Jungkook's parents had accepted their marriage since before he was born. The second strongest family, the Lightwoods, had a perfect beta daughter for their son. However, one night after an unexpected event, Jungkook decided to marry his youngest daughter.

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jungkookwolf au x (female:Lucy) 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: smut, wolf au, fluff, angst, one shot. 𝒲𝑜𝓇��𝓈: 16 k 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔: +18 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: abuse, violence, , sadness, psychological abuse, dirty lenjuage, naked, muscles, mating, cumshot, bite, sex. 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒: This is my first one shot of this theme I hope you enjoy it. If there is a lot of demand, maybe make another one with the member you choose most.

Social pressure could be included within the determining factors for anyone to lose their reason, their own identity. Jungkook always considered himself a strong person, both physically and mentally. His education had been one of the best in town, the most neat and disciplined so that I could deal with any problem that might arise. Being the firstborn of an Alpha family was not easy, he lived constantly under the rules, absurd duties and constant dialogues about loyalty.

In Dyonisia, everyone envied him, and for that reason, he always walked alone. He did not like people, he did not like to make friends for convenience, to feel like a sample object to flatter their families. He preferred to sink under his father's extensive library, though he never said no to a walk on the Hun River.

That morning, his father had practically forced him to get out of those four walls, breathe air, take a bit of color, inviting him to interact with the other betas or omegas in town. He had only built a small friendship with a beta, Jimin, the son of his father's assistant, a very brief relationship just by spending good morning, but Jungkook found it pleasant. Perhaps it was her sympathy and the kind smile that she gave her mother every time she brought her hot chocolate. He used to watch those scenes from a porch seat with a book on his lap and another cup to go with. He never got too close, fearing the same rejection as the same betas of his kind. They were supposed to respect him (or at least that's what they did in public) but they never missed an opportunity to denigrate his taste for loneliness, to process low words towards his low weight and unattractiveness. This was her childhood, subjected to constant ridicule that seemed endless.

So when Jungkook culminated in the hormonal process of puberty, his alpha genetics came out in the way his muscles protruded above all those scrawny betas. At twenty-two, he possessed all the qualities necessary to be the new Alpha Chief.

I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with rich natural oxygen. He had always loved the wild smell of pine leaves, the crisp sound of boots as he stepped on dry leaves. Feeling comfortable, he gave himself the pleasure of stretching his shoulders to remove all the accumulated tension, placing a hand on his shoulder to massage the neck area.

He dragged his boots down a small slope of land to approach the shore and touch the crystal clear water, he needed to get drunk from that cold and wet feeling left by the river.

It stopped mid-slope when I hear a couple of voices below.

"What's wrong?" It echoed, a thick, coarse voice with an ironic air. A man of medium height with strong arms and a broad back covered by a white tank top. He seemed to be talking to someone but his physiognomy was so robust that it completely covered him. His shoulders fell serene but the tension was palpable in the muscular contraction of his back. —Come on, darling, you're my girlfriend, you love me, I love you, what do others matter?

“I love you, I'm just not ready to go to those kinds of contacts, sorry.”

"But why not?"

Jungkook analyzed his tired tone, shrewdly deducing that it was not the first time that he had insisted. Then, the boy supported the weight of his body with one leg, discovering with this small act, the body of a girl with whom he spoke so uncomfortable. Slowly her eyes widened with involuntary emotion. She felt chills, the movement of her brown hair against the wind seemed unreal, so soft and fluffy that it caused inhuman impulses to touch it. Big, expressive eyes that screamed what he thought: discomfort and some fear. Letting herself be tamed by sudden curiosity, she began to explore her sweet, perfect features, brown skin, small nose, and prominent natural red lips. It seemed like a beam of light in so much darkness, it really was beautiful. A scent of honey rose from her developed nose, an aroma so exquisite that she had to close her eyes briefly to calm the excited red of her irises. "My love, nobody will know, only you and me.I am giving you an option so that you do not have to pass your fever with those harmful drugs.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows as surprise hit his facial control. Outraged by his low propositions, he frowned. I calculate that he must have been the same age, therefore, it seemed unheard of to him, considering that he did not seem stupid, that he did not know the serious consequences of such acts. He growled, his toes curling inside his shoes. He showered her with loving flattery whenever he could, yet there was something about his insistence that had him truly concerned. He talked to her about mating as if it was just about sex. That act links two people for life, though, only if the male wants. There was something about the way his fists clenched that prompted his instincts to think he was not to be trusted. He could smell the urge from there, a smell so rotten that his mouth suddenly wrinkled. Jungkook tilted his head to the side to examine his distressed expression, hurt by his little collaboration.

"I have said no."

A smile escaped Jungkook's lips without realizing it.

"But Lucy ..."

Her words stayed in the air when she noticed that the girl caught Jungkook's presence. I swallow hard, her expressive eyes staring at him in panic. The boy turned with his hands on his hips, then raised his eyebrows contemptuously at Jungkook. Quite nervous, Jungkook slid down the slope.

"Didn't they teach you not to listen to private conversations, asshole?"

"Tony, let him."

The boy looked at Lucy abruptly.

"What did I leave him? He could tell your parents about us. This jerk might not have good intentions ..."

"Like the ones you have with her?" He growled, his inner wolf shaking its tail eager to get out. For tearing everything in his canines with his canines. He was sure that the vein in his neck had made its appearance, he felt the blood rise suddenly and collect on his head. Lucy stared at him too shocked, then ducked her head in embarrassment, closing her brown eyes. Jungkook didn't want to make her feel bad, damn it, he should have controlled her tone. Her beautiful hair covered her face with such tender grace. How could someone as sweet as her date someone so hypocritical?

"What have you said?"

"What you listen."

"Give up for dead ..."

Lucy put her hands on his chest to stop him.

"Not here," she pleaded, her eyes set on the ground.

The boy shook his body violently and then roared.

The discussion did not get worse because a group of young betas appeared to camp at the foot of the river. Children who laughed tirelessly until they saw the two wolves pulling their teeth out and roaring intensely at each other. Jungkook was forced to calm down and reticulate for the sake of that foolish beta, he could not, rather, he should not. If his father found out that on his first outing, after so long, he had killed off a dead beta, he would be in real trouble. Everyone knew the difference between beta and alpha strength, it wouldn't have cost Jungkook to destroy him, but it wasn't the right thing to do. He returned to his home and sank into the safety of his room. He slept, ate and breathed thinking of those expressive clear eyes.

Located at the foot of a picturesque cabin where the vines climbed the walls emitting a smell of wet leaves from the recent storm. Today was the great day, that one, in which his role as future leader would consolidate, he would take the privilege of meeting his future wife and in the worst case, the mother of his cubs. His mother was almost as nervous as he was as he tried to calm himself down with exaggerated vents. He was convincing himself that it was the best choice. Her father rang the bell with searing assurance.

"Thanks for coming, Joe," said a robust man thanking him for his visit, Jungkook assumed he was responsible for the family. His mother entered first, giving him a nod in greeting, she did not like the contact very much. At a quick glance I notice Jungkook's presence. "Come on in." Is waiting for you.

His future wife.

Your future Alpha.

He nodded resignedly.

She felt a real desire to back down, to return home with some excuse to excuse her sudden flight. However, I end up entering that cozy house. The commitment was something that had always been in force throughout his life, his father kept reminding him how important it was to find the right partner, how essential it was to get someone with good genetics for the litter. But he was never in favor of arranged marriages, he was never in a hurry to establish love relationships. He always thought that fate would be in charge of introducing him to what would be his alpha, but that was just an absurd wish. Since he turned fifteen and hit the first stretch, his father had been in charge of reminding him, every day until today, that his destiny had been decided.

Enveloped by the pleasant heat of the living room. The house was not very big but enough for them. Sometimes those were the best, since a small house with interactions was better than a huge one where ghosts flooded around the corners.

She left her coat on the polished coat rack in the hall, then headed into the living room. He quickly approached the fireplace to take refuge in the crackling wood as it was burned by the fire.

"Carina, daughter, come down. Your fiance has arrived!"

Jungkook stood by the fireplace while he waited. The sound of heels began to echo down the steps. He raised his head as a new scent filled the room, his nose was suffocated by too intense a perfume. It was not annoying, without going any further, but too excessive. Her nose wrinkled in response. His sense of smell was so muffled that he soon began to crave oxygen.

"I was getting ready, mother," she said, in a charming voice.

Jungkook stifled a brief sigh as his eyes closed. Then he turned around and greeted her with a kiss on the hand. Without much more to say, his skin was overly lubricated and flavored with some artificial citrus from some body cream. I take his small bow as a greeting to tour the girl's body. The dress reached to the ankles where high-heeled shoes stood out with pride. The vermilion color with touches of bows matched a small belt. The dress was wide at the bottom, being narrower at the waist area, accentuating it. Then, I look at the artificial details of her makeup, her red lips highlighted by a lipstick, recently, by how fresh they looked. He had to control the movement of his eyebrows to avoid frowning, the girl was beautiful in itself, she did not need as much makeup. He liked natural appearances more like his mother or that girl on the river.

"Nice to meet you..."

"Carina," she added, quickly with a desperation that covered with a sporadic laugh.

Jungkook replied with a small grimace of politeness. Actually, I was tense.

"Where's your sister, darling?" Asked his mother under his breath. The girl shrugged contemptuously as if she wouldn't mind. Jungkook looked away awkwardly, they were talking in front of him like he wasn't.

"Sorry for being late ..."

Lucy ended her hasty career the moment her large eyes saw the figure of Jungkook occupying half of the room. Being totally paralyzed by the impression. Jungkook, who had recognized that voice, turned in his direction, also opening his eyes in surprise. Lucy closed her mouth as fast as she could, nerves beginning to dominate her movements. Both of them looking at each other in total surprise until their sister stood between them.

“Shall we go to the table?” She suggested, a little annoyed at his extreme attention to his sister.

Jungkook reacted, accepting a little disoriented that he would place an arm inside his forearm.

The couple walked to the table, however, there was a moment when Carina looked back to cast a teasing glance at her sister. Lucy rolled her eyes at his childish behavior.

"I was a little nervous because I didn't know how you were going to react. Really, this is crazy. Arranged marriage ..."

Carina talked and talked but he had lost himself in his thoughts shortly after the start of this conventional conversation. Sitting in front of his parents, with her at his side talking to him about anything he didn't even bother to hear. He hadn't yet touched the suckling pig meat that Mrs. Trivia had so skillfully cooked. His mother was talking to his mother, his father was talking to the other about some topic related to hunting, leaving poor Lucy behind, who was playing with the chicken leg with her fork at the other end of the table. He pursed his lips in a pout as he spun the food lost in his world. She felt boredom and a little angry at her mother for forcing her to attend these kinds of meetings. They didn't even get along with their sister, they were totally opposite. Carina was more flirtatious and concerned about much more "feminine" matters (at least that's what she called housework), Lucy was much more adventurous, carefree, she was a ray of sun molten in hope that exuded happiness for her radiant smile. She raised her eyes from the plate when she felt watched. Jungkook averted his gaze as soon as he rested hers on him.

Feeling even more out of place when she unconsciously watched her sister's hand cling to her strong bicep.

His mother was totally focused on a lively conversation with Jungkook's mother, so much so that when the brunette got up and sneaked out the back door, no one noticed her absence.

Holding between his small fingers his large planted chicken leg.

"Dog, I'm bringing you ..."

An excited bark came out from behind a trash can when the stray dog she cared for behind her mother's back, ran at her in desperate gallops. With his tongue hanging out and his eyes drowning in hunger. Lucy, laughing, crouched down and set the plate down for the poor animal to feast on. The dog did not think twice and eagerly put the ozico in. A mixture of saliva and leftovers of meat began to fall on top of his shoes, he did not care too much, he increased the level of his laughter while he filled his head with caresses.

"Why did you run away?"

Frightened by such a compromising scene, Lucy spun back. When she met Jungkook's worried gaze she placed a hand on her chest and sighed in relief.

"You can't run away from a place you never were," he declares, his so ambiguous little confession decreasing in pitch as he turns back to the animal. He repeatedly pats his head as he watches his little fight with the larger area. Jungkook bows his head. He analyzes her curiously, a feeling similar to what she feels for him.

"Sorry," he whispers. Jungkook stops looking at the animal, directs his frown at her while undoing the smile that he doesn't know when he's formed. "This morning. Tony's."

-Why do you apologize? It wasn't your fault. ”Confused, he intensifies the wrinkle on his forehead.

"For not respecting you, Alpha. If I had known that ..."

"Stop justifying an apology," he replies, through an excessively abruptness. Lucy ducks her head in shame hidden under her long hair. Jungkook begins to feel remorse when he smells his sadness with his experienced sense of smell. So weak and fragile. He does not know how to react, it is the first time that he is in front of a woman and the dumbness reigns, the words have simply been stuck at the beginning of his throat.

Lucy raises her head.

"Do not."

Its softness shakes you.

"It's a stray dog that I take care of behind my mother ... Please don't tell him!"

"Is very..."

"Pathetic, I know."

"No." he clarifies. Lucy expands her eyes to him. "It is an honorable gesture."

Lucy's cheeks are bathed in rich lipstick when their gazes collide for a brief moment.

"Thank you very much sir."

Jungkook wrinkles his nose.

"What's that, sir? But how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-one, sir."

"For God's sake, don't call me sir reminds me of my father." Far from looking like an order, his pleasant laugh relaxes the situation.

Lucy gets caught up in the alluring sound of his voice, taking a few seconds to contemplate the hectic movement of her lips as she laughs. Jungkook intensifies his smile when he realizes it. She deflects hers drowning in a shame marked by the red of her ears.

"Call me by name, Jungkook."

"I'm so excited about decorating the banquet. I love roses, do you like roses as much as I do? I like the red of their petals it's so intense ... Oh, oh, over there!" Screaming excited when visualize from afar a wildflower stand. Catch Jungkook's doll to drag him towards the small traveling shop. There was so much fuss in the main square that you didn't notice the reverberating sound the song made of your tired sigh produced. He keeps thinking about how uncomfortable he is, he should help his father with the affairs of the town and not there, in a square choosing what would be the perfect flower for the center of his wedding table.

Two weeks had passed since that dinner, nothing had changed in his cold demeanor. Try as she might, she knew Carina was not his type. His heart did not stir when he touched it, nor did its aroma captivate him, it seemed the same as the rest of the omegas or betas in the surroundings.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook was aware of his claim hidden in a small grimace.

"Which ones do you like best?"

Carina reached out toward the flower trays.

"Do I really have to be here?" He asked, frowning roughly. Carina clenched her teeth, highlighting her jaw. Jungkook rolled his eyes at the sight of his little tantrum. Being a little nicer, I try to fix it in a quiet whisper. "I mean, I trust your taste."

Carina felt flattered, relaxing into a huge smile.

"I have to help my father. See you later."

He got out of there before Carina wanted to give him a suffocating hug. He adored them, he really missed the comforting warmth he felt when someone close hugged him, but he couldn't bear the excessive way his hands tightened around her neck.

A most peculiar brown mane drew his attention to the well-known girl who was reading in a street vendor.

He approached by an unconscious impulse that he offered to his lips with an excited smile.

“What are you doing?” He leaned down to whisper directly into the shell of her ear in greeting.

Lucy closed the book in fright. Suffering a chill from the wet friction of his lips on the skin.

When he bent his neck, he smiled.

"Are you following me, Jungkook?"

"Maybe," he joked, as he widened a mischievous smile. Lucy had to go back to the book so that she wouldn't witness the emotion of hers. Jungkook leaned over the stall ledges to steal his attention. "I came with Carina to buy some things for the wedding."

A prick-like pain seemed to hit his heart.

"It must have been exciting for you to have practically run out of the flower shop."

“Were you watching me?” She asked mockingly, exaggerating a playful smile.

"Maybe."

Jungkook was the faithful image of happiness. He couldn't stop smiling, unlike when he was with his sister, with Lucy he could bring out his personality, knowing that he would never judge him.

"Violent pleasures end in violence and have their own death triumph, in the same way that fire and gunpowder are consumed in a voracious kiss." I recite almost from memory when I look down at his book. Lucy turned her neck to him with too much surprise in her eyes. Jungkook replied with a proud grin. "Romeo and Juliet." I didn't think you were a lover of literature.

"It's the best way to get out of here getting lost in the exciting lyrics of Shakespeare," he replied, forming a small smile.

"Of all the works you have, why that one?" It is a tragedy with a very sad ending.

"An inspiring tragedy," he contradicted, frowning as he playfully punched him with the book in the stomach. "Besides representing a beautiful love story."

"Do you think such love exists?"

Jungkook raised a curious eyebrow.

"Yes, but not for me," I whisper, a cold and bleak air crowding into his tone like it's a disease. Jungkook slowly broke his beaming smile until he ended in a straight line. "My destiny is written and as traditions agree, I will end up marrying a stranger."

Lucy leaves the book inside a wooden box, the movement of her hand is so pessimistic that Jungkook lets out a sigh.

Frowning, she retrieves it. He put two fingers up to catch the grocer's attention, he came as fast as his old legs allowed. Jungkook took out a bill and placed it on top of the books.

"Keep the change."

Lucy opened her eyes in surprise.

"What are you doing?"

Jungkook offered her the book but she did not accept it. She was still holding a tense, reluctant posture toward him.

"Can't I give you a gift?"

"It is not appropriate. You are a committed man."

"With your sister."

Lucy's heart clenched.

"Still, it's not appropriate."

"Keep him."

As if he were a puppet at his whim, he managed to get the book into his arms.

"But..."

"Accept it as a sign of our friendship," he asked, Jungkook manifested his last masterpiece when he gave her a smile so charming that even Lucy was duped. "Friends make gifts, right?"

"Yes, I guess so."

He hated the pressure of the elegant shirts, he had always liked the comfort that loose and wide clothing provided much more. His mother had forced him to dress cordably on the occasion, when she had seen him in those jeans and black sweatshirt, he cursed the four winds.

As he walked down the streets of the town, the lanterns guided him with a charming light. The air that night was cool and comforting, and yet he would be locked in a house dining with his future wife. Jungkook sighed tired, really, he had been visiting that house too many times a week, he saw Carina almost every day. The only amusement that made this bustle more enjoyable was the pleasant company of Lucy. That little beta that made him smile every time they spoke. An impatient sigh came from his lips without realizing it.

Would it also be today?

"Ahead."

Mrs. Trivi opened the door for him with a smile.

Jungkook was looking resignedly at the table set in the living room when a delicious smell led him to the kitchen.

"Mmm ... that smells good."

He smiled like a little boy when he saw a chocolate cake in the middle of the table.

"Get your filthy hands away from my chocolate cake!" Cried an uncompromising voice that he had instantly recognized.

"Just a bit." Fawning smiled as he stretched out one of his hands but Lucy slapped him.

"Not!"

Immediately they both laughed as Lucy tenderly took her hand to analyze the red mark. There was a time when the laughter stopped and his eyes couldn't be more attracted. They fell into comfortable silence as they analyzed his detailed pupils. Jungkook cocked a small smile as his heart began to crash against his chest. Lucy looked away in intimidation, her dark eyes too deep. I swear for a moment to hear the heart fluttering in Lucy's chest, her scent so close it was starting to cause terrible side effects. He felt a shiver as his fingers left her wrist in need of the desire for her soft touch. Lucy swallowed to calm the dryness in her throat, her lips taking control of her mouth to smile unconsciously. He knew he kept staring at her and he inexplicably liked that.

Jungkook found himself half a step away when the door slammed shut.

"Jungkook wasn't expecting you so soon. I've missed you ..."

Lucy was brutally pushed aside when Carina hugged Jungkook.

"Are you going to stay for dinner?" A totally ironic question to his sister.

Lucy smiles falsely.

"If you talk to me like that, yes."

"Stupid ..."

"Actually, I'm only here to pick up some of your father's papers." Jungkook's clever intervention gives him the perfect excuse to refrain from that absurd evening. Carina ironically raises her eyebrows while transforming a forced smile.

"Oh! In that case come, I'll take you to his office."

Lucy mocks her sister's back, imitating her gait, and Jungkook laughs softly when he turns to say goodbye.

The sun was shining bright that morning but the desire to get lost in the pages of a book had really won the battle. Her father's office was an intimate and private place where he used to spend most of the day. Besides, she preferred to shut herself up in that rustic and solitary room, than to have to endure the excited screams of her sister for the few days that remained for her wedding.

He was turning the pages of the book too lazily. He didn't know what was going on inside her but for a while he had been in rather poor humor. He no longer wanted to smile, he rarely laughed at his father's jokes when there had been from the first syllable before. He made cheap excuses, whether it was because the summer was ending or because his parents no longer paid as much attention to him. Deep down, he knew what the real reason for his emotional downturn was. Jungkook was going to marry his sister's monster.

The problem was not commitment (or at least that's what he wanted to think) Jungkook was a very attractive young man, it was more than clear that he would not stay single all his life, but the fact that he went with his sister definitely put him in a very bad mood . She was capricious and did not agree with her friend's kind attitude. So sweet and chivalrous, he couldn't deny how good he felt when sporadic moments passed. Her chest heaved uneasily and her lips couldn't stop smiling.

He shook his head to scare away the strange thoughts and concentrated his attention on finishing Cervantes' great work. When finishing with the last page, he got up from the chair and walked to the shelf, with the bad luck that when he wanted to return it to its place of origin, the height played a trick on him.

“Do you need help?” A velvety voice vibrated behind her. Jungkook leaned his shoulder against the mark of the door as he contemplated the amusing scene of seeing her on tiptoe and with her tongue sticking out.

"What?"

Lucy landed on the ground momentarily stunned by his appearance. Swallow, overwhelmed by its natural beauty. He had never felt the need to focus on the bodies of the other betas, and yet his eyes wandered alone on an involuntary tour of her majestic legs in tandem with his strong arms clenched as they crossed. Coming out of her hypnosis, she blinked nervously as she turned back to the bookshelf and managed to cover her blush. What happened to him? It looked like a beta controlled by her impulses.

"Oh! No, I can alone," rejecting her help with a self-sufficient air. He stood on tiptoe again, stretching his arm as far as he could to strain the book into the empty space. She lowered to the ground tired and snorted closing her eyes. "Okay. Can you ..."

A hand runs over her shoulder, catching the book and setting it in place. His hard pecs collide unintentionally against his back as his body leans forward to reach the high shelf. Feel an intense stomach cramp when you shrink at the compact sensation. She seems so moved by the pleasant sensation of his body heat that her neck turns to increase the vision of her strong arm backing up.

"Thanks ..." he whispers.

"I had brought you a book."

Jungkook's voice sounds more stable than it actually was, his mind had played a bad thought on him. He didn't want to get away from her. She had felt such a pleasant sensation when she had accidentally brushed against his body. Forcing himself to stay away from its delicious smell he takes two steps back to walk away.

"You didn't have to with the book the other day ...”

Lucy turns around when she is sure that the redness on her cheeks has completely left her skin but then, Jungkook takes out a book from his cloth bag.

"Oh, my mother, my mother!" I do not believe you. I've been looking for this book every time Mel put the job but always told me she didn't have it.

He snatches the book from her with too exciting speed when he recognizes the book.

“Since when do you like witchcraft, Jungkook?” He hums mockingly as he glides his fingers across the uneven surface of the cover, in a hypnotized smile.

"If you don't want it ..."

“Yes, yes!” She hugs the book, afraid she will take it away.

Jungkook laughs softly.

Lucy takes the book off to look at it, jumps with excitement as she squeals like a little girl. She doesn't know when she has dared to run to his body to hug him, but when she is aware of what she has done and tries to separate herself, Jungkook is wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. Suddenly, Lucy hides a smile sinking into her chest. Its honey scent is so comfortable, it inspires enjoying its natural perfume, it takes a step closer to make a better hole in its arms. Jungkook gasps, tilts his head to bury his nose in her neck and bask in her softness, his fingers lightly touching the skin behind her ear. Her small caress makes Lucy stir at the sensation. With an innate craving he clenches his wool sweater in a fist, Jungkook gently caresses the strip of fur again. Smile when you feel the trembling of your body stuck.

"Shall I interrupt?"

Lucy separates agitated when she hears her sister's irritated voice.

"Thank you, really, thank you."

His stuttering is covered by the sound of his hurried footsteps. He runs away from there with his face burning, hoping that Jungkook hasn't seen the shame on his face, but both he and Carina have witnessed his little blush. Jungkook smiles unconsciously, caring little that his behavior was being observed by the other woman.

"Carina, you are beautiful."

Flaunting her majestic dress she waves her hand proudly. His other hand is in a friendly greeting with Jungkook's mother.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Jeon."

"Nothing formal, after all, we will be family soon." Her confidence makes Carina smile with greatness. Completely ignoring his parents and his bored sister. — I can't believe my son is getting married in a week.

Lucy purses her lips, tries to act normally but cannot.

Carina widens her smile when she notices her sidelong disgust.

"Neither do I ... I'm so nervous."

Jungkook's mother turns to a circle of men who speak animatedly.

"Jungkook, son, your fiancee just arrived!"

Jungkook slammed his glass down, placed it on top of the waiter's tray, then loosened the knot in his tie. Really, he had infiltrated the older wolves to hide, had had to put up with old stories of when the pack was a third of what it was now, but it was worth it to get away even for a few minutes.

An old man she had been talking to slaps him on the shoulder for support. He sighs and turns to his mother. He tries to process a charming smile on his girlfriend but is only capable of grimacing.

"These..."

He shuts up.

He sees Lucy a few meters behind, clad in a short but really delicate dress. Jungkook couldn't contain the bubbles of emotion growing inside her, she really was beautiful. The white color suited him wonderfully highlighting his pretty eyes that did not hesitate to observe him.

"Precious..."

"Thanks," Carina responds, taking a quick look at her mother.

"What a boring party." Is this what they call music? ”Her friend scoffed as she played with the liquid in her glass. Lucy shrugged, then finished her third drink. When he threatens to leave her on the small table behind him, Ginger grabs her shoulders to stop her. "Don't turn around."

"What happens?"

Lucy frowns in concern.

"Would you believe me if I told you that your sister's fiancé did not take his eyes off you?"

"Of course not." He chokes on the alcohol when he swallows. You cough when you notice how the drink is going the wrong way. — You should stop drinking because alcohol makes you see things that are not.

"Yeah right."

Red-brushed nails are embedded around his arm.

“May I have a second, I want to talk to my sister?” She demands, lashing out in an unkind tug until she pulls her out of prying eyes.

"Ouch! What are you doing?" Lucy moans in a confused howl from the strangely aggressive pressure that travels through her fingers.

"You've been taunting Jungkook all night."

"You're sick in the head," she clarifies, denying herself absorbed in an incredulous expression, sucking her lips inward to contain herself. She decides to ignore him and walk back to the living room, however, her sister's hand returns her to her place.

"I warn you, stop bothering my fiancé."

"Your ego has gone to your head and your understanding is clouded." Jungkook is my friend, nothing more.

"You're right," he spits bitterly. She smiles, she wears an evil grimace that only anticipates what will come next. —Really, I don't know why I bother if it's clear that she would never notice someone like you.

"Like me?"

"Yes." He tightens his smile, emphasizing a wicked look. "In an immature and horrendous brat who doesn't have two fingers on her forehead, you're not even pretty."

Sigh, release his breath directly to her face to unbalance her. Lucy frowns in pain at her sister's hurtful words. He had always been cruel, he had never lacked time to mess with his appearance, but this time it was different, he sensed it in the way he acted. He had pulled out his claws to defend his position as if he felt Lucy was a threat when he had just told her otherwise.

"You're worth nothing."

He moved closer to her ear so that his whisper would take on a dramatic tone. She emphasized the last word to make it stand out from the rest. Lucy swallowed nervously, a swirl of anguish crouching inside her stomach from the lack of delicacy. She knew that she shouldn't listen to her, she was just a hurt woman for some reason that she couldn't explain. But it was the derogatory tone and the way his eyes killed her in anger. She didn't know that it hurt more, if her sister's slurs or the fact that deep down she knew she was right. I never considered myself a good specimen, haughty and pushy. No beta approached her if it weren't for sweet reasons. She always walked alone waiting for someone to surprise her, but that never happened, it only existed in her head.

Until now.

"Lucy." An oddly low voice sounded behind him. Startling her by sudden interruption of her thoughts. She turns around and twitches a weary sigh.

"Tony, I'm not in the mood. Go, please."

"We need to talk."

Lucy inevitably stared out the window, seeing her sister hanging on Jungkook's arm. She was smiling as she bragged about something she couldn't hear from a distance. As if struck by a current, Jungkook squinted into the darkness of the porch, but there was no one there anymore. Her desire to get out of there was greatly increased by accepting that Tony will guide her down the dark steps at the back of the house.

“Haven't we gotten too far away?” He asks, not stopping to observe everything that had a little moonlight reflected on its surface. It had been a while since they had started on this walk, Tony had been silent and certainly, Lucy was beginning to wonder if accepting his offer had really been a good idea.

"It's so they won't listen to us."

"I think that's enough, I don't even know where we are."

She stopped abruptly causing Tony to turn and look at her strangely.

"Lucy, forgive me."

—Tony, we've already talked about this, you aspire to things that I don't. We don't have the same goals, the same dreams. We were always different, now I realize how wrong I was to accept that this happened.

"But what are you saying?" You love Me.

"No, Tony. I liked you but I never loved you. "I confess, the words had been previously selected in his head so as not to reject him too abruptly, but the fatigue was cleverly perceived between his tired grimace and lowered shoulders." Sorry, "I sigh. Taking steps carefully so as not to trip over the dark stones.

His hand tied to her arm holding her back.

"We need to talk," I pronounce slowly with a bright threat in his eyes.

"We've said enough," he said, shivering from the nerves that covered his vision. He shook his arm but he just cocked his fingers more. "Tony, let go of me I have to go back."

"You love me," he repeated in a desperate air. Lucy widened her eyes in fright as she took painfully slow steps toward him. "I'm going to show you how much I love you."

He yanked her onto the nearest log just to adjust to her body as soon as he had the chance. Her nose inspired his perfumed scent eagerly as she trembled paralyzed. His nails embedded in the rough wood with a disturbed look. He began to deliver small kisses to the bottom of her jaw, sticking out his sticky tongue to lick a strip of her syrupy neck. Lucy shrugged her head in response, feeling the real fear when his hands clenched her and she felt his hard erection on her thigh.

"My precious beta ..." her breath falling into the shell of her ear before she licked it with emphasis. Lucy patted her chest desperately, attacking with her hands in an absurd attempt to pull him away.

“Stop!” I yell, sick and scared. Holding back an anguished sob at the top of her throat. All she did was get Tony to growl and hold her tighter in his lumberjack arms.

"Don't scream, no one is going to listen to you, we're in the middle of nowhere. Don't make this more difficult, Lucy."

He hit his body again this time making it at least a few inches apart. He sank his body into the crisp wood of the tree groaning in pain as he felt loose strands dig into his back.

"Let me go, I promise I won't tell anyone," I plead, opening my teary eyes so that he will change his mind, that being his breaking point.

"Damn it, I just want to convey to you how much I love you so hard it is to understand!" If you don't want to understand it the good way then the bad way it will be… ”A hand went up to wrap the column of his neck and thus keep his face free for him. He smiled, pulling his teeth out in a sharp smile. Lucy kicked when she buried her mouth in his neck, she knew what she would do when she felt the fangs in her neck.

"No ..." she sobbed.

A furious roar echoed through every space in the forest. So furious and scandalous that Tony caught a glance before falling to the ground pushed by strong arms. Lucy slid down the tree, killing her bent legs. Her hand covered her neck still feeling the edge of her fangs.

Another furious roar.

Lucy tore her gaze from the dried leaves to find a scene too terrifying. Jungkook hitting with all his fury the face buried in the earth of Tony. Flipping him violently with each punch. Fixing a bloodshot gaze, pulling out the fangs at each lunge. He tried to get up but his knee failed, he had to lean on the trunk not to collapse.

"Jungkook," I whisper weak. Not abandoning that fear that I still felt. Jungkook looked up from Tony's badly injured body to look at her with concern. His eyes darting to the hand covering his neck. He got up as fast as he could and approached her too nervously.

"Are you okay? Has that motherfucker done anything to you?" He growled, the vein in his neck sticking out at every word. His breathing hitched at his chest but he didn't seem to mind. With too much tenderness he uncovered his neck to see two red marks but without going deep. He sighed, feeling relieved and selfishly good. Lucy welled up tears at his pitiful gaze. She buried her head in his chest to calm her sobs. Jungkook stroked her head slowly. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving you alone."

"Where could it be?" Has he come home? ”Her father asked in an anguished tone as he wandered around the empty room.

"Lucy would never leave without telling us." Her worried mother assured her to try to calm her husband's uncomfortable hustle a little.

Carina rolls her eyes.

"Please, you're putting on too much of a drama, he's always sneaked out of ..."

Jungkook's mother's outrageous heels stormed in.

Behind her husband walks with a long face.

“Have you seen Jungkook?” Her mother added in a panic attack. It was not common for her son to leave the party in the middle of a conversation. She had been worried since she saw him leave in a hurry.

The glass opening was what twitched the nerves of everyone present. Immediately everyone turned in alarm to find a Jungkook with his shirt stained with mud. His mother covered her amazed mouth when the poor and trembling Lucy appeared behind him with her tousled dress and red neck. But undoubtedly, what caught the most attention was the boy that Jungkook so skillfully dragged by his mother's velvet carpet.

"Lucy! OMG, what happened?"

Her mother ran to wrap her daughter in her arms, who soon began to cry when she felt the heat of the home again.

"This jerk has tried to take her into the woods," Jungkook roared into the air. Wrinkling her nose when the memory of him trying to mark her came magically to knock her good pose down. He released his shirt causing it to drop straight to the floor, the drool hanging and his mouth bloody as he lay dying on the fluffy carpet.

"He?"

Her mother grabbed her shoulders to inspect the mark on her neck.

"No." I assure, licking my lips so I can speak. "Jungkook was on time, Mom."

The woman sighed in relief.

"Thank heaven."

"That happens to you for being anybody," her sister accused in a too despicable tone. Her father turned shocked to his daughter.

"Carina, please, that comment is too much!"

"Tomorrow everyone will know what happened tonight." He pointed coldly at his sister as if it wouldn't affect him. His mother immediately looked at Jungkook's mother, who looked down at the dying individual in her living room.

"I'll try not to talk about it much, but you know what the rumors are like."

"No one will want to marry her," Carina commented in a low whisper that did nothing more than hide her inner joy.

"I will do it."

Everyone watched Jungkook's jaw drop. Everyone except Lucy who had frozen in her mother's arms, sticking her head out to look at him too shocked.

"It is a solution," he commented to his father in an attempt to convince him. Mr. Jeon seemed to think about it as he placed a finger on his chin and turned to seek his wife's approval.

"But are you listening to each other?" What kind of mental dementia makes you think it's a good idea? Do not!

“Carina!” Her mother said in a dominant cry. The girl opened her mouth as she exhaled fire from anger. Heading towards Jungkook so that he could convey his agony.

"It's her problem she has gotten into." I understand that you want to help her but there are many ways.

"It is my decision, father."

Sitting with her hands on her knees as she watched her mother's reflection travel across the room.Combed with a tousled braid that ran down the right side of her shoulder. Looking back into that mirror, she thought that perhaps this would be the last time she could feel the warm relaxation of her space. She tried not to cry so as not to ruin the makeup so exquisite that her mother had taken the time to do it.

He couldn't find the exact words to describe how he felt. Nerves had indeed taken the form of lingering chills. He always assured his crazy and dreamy person that the day they would take his hand would be the happiest of his life, and yet he kept thinking that this situation had been forced.

"Here it is, it was from your great-grandmother, then it happened to your grandmother and then to me. Now it's your turn to take it."

"Why are you crying, Mom?" I whisper in a small smile when she saw slight drops caress her cheeks.

"It's not every day my girl gets married," I croon melancholy as I hooked a loose lock with the blue clasp. I sigh, stroking her daughter's bare shoulders. "We should have had this talk later but the situation has been a bit rushed."

“About what?” She scowled her outlined eyebrows.

"About the rules in marriage, my love."

"Mom..."

"You know what will happen tonight, Jungkook will take you and be his wife. You must have puppies, all you can and ..."

"Mom, I don't want to talk about this. Can you please go away?"

"I know it's difficult, at first it takes a little getting used to but I'm sure my girl will do very well. Jungkook is a great man who has done us a great favor, keep that in mind."

I kiss her forehead lovingly before leaving her thoughtful in the mirror.

Everything happened so fast, in less than a blink he found himself closing his eyes to the roar of applause from the guests. Stop in the middle of an altar full of precious flowers. Being the center of attention and the reason for the excited whistles.

"You may kiss the bride."

Lucy gulped when the priest's words broke through all the screaming. His eyes ceased to outline the flowers in a nervous air. The seat next to him shifted back, implying that Jungkook had risen. Lucy took the fabric of her skirt and tightened it anxiously before getting up. Raising her chin little by little in a situation that seemed more eternal than the cycle of the earth. Connecting their eyes for the first time since they had made the pact in that stone seat. Jungkook sighed when he noticed how his bright pupils faded as the agony continued to rage. Guilt gnaws at him like a disease that destroys everything in his path.

He moved just a little closer to receive her rejection in a fearful gasp. So, banishing the desire he had to caress that fleshy mouth with his lips, he decided to bring a kiss to his forehead and walk away as soon as possible. Lucy, who had closed her eyes not to witness out of embarrassment, opened them in surprise to find a Jungkook further away than she ever walked to the garden with the guests.

He had hardly had a bite of the wonderful cake that Mrs. Jeon had prepared. The food had danced with her fork the short time dinner had lasted. The dance was more awkward than I imagined. Everyone exhaling tender sighs while the couple glowed in the middle of the garden. Envious women who wanted to take their place, themselves as men who longed to feel what Jungkook's hands touched as she delicately adjusted herself on the bare area of his back. They were both tense.

I kept thinking about what would come next, there was less left for the evening to end and the guests to leave. With the end of each song his greatest fear was approaching, he should spend the night with Jungkook.

A couple of Jungkook's cousins dragged her away to talk about marriage issues. However, Lucy was absent and lost in a sea suffocated by a storm of nerves. Himself, when they gave more than two in the morning, one of the cousins took her with complicit laughter to her room. He left her alone saying goodbye with a wink that he did not see as he fell into bed.

Very soon, the door opened in a scandalous screech, standing firm with her back stretched up as she turned to see her husband. He was shocked when he saw how shabby he looked, his tie untied and his vest buttons undone with a shirt half out.

"I'll sleep in the room at the end of the hall to let you rest." A hoarse voice accompanied by an unstable babble. Lucy raised her eyebrows when she could smell alcohol filling the room. Looking more closely at his appearance, he noticed how the red cheeks and lost eyes gave rise to the thought that the stains on his pants had not been water. He looked really tired as he leaned his back against the door to stand upright.

"But this is your room," she whispered persuasively. Jungkook waved his hand away as he crawled over to his dresser to grab his nightwear.

"Never mind."

Puzzled by his sudden stability, she was left with the word in her mouth when Jungkook closed the door two seconds later.

Two weeks later.

Like every waking up in the last days, there was a part of her that wanted to continue sleeping, to sink her head into that fluffy pillow and forget about her problems. But ignoring them wasn't the best option, still, he spent as much time as he could in the isolated room that had been on his property for a couple of days.

After the wedding night a cold air had crept in between them, Jungkook hardly spoke a word that was not strictly necessary, whether it was a good morning or a goodbye. When she left the room, he seemed to notice her presence and go to the garden with some excuse without any reliable argument. He would be lying if he said that this contempt did not hurt him in the deepest, ignoring her had become his favorite activity.

So, she was pleasantly surprised when she went down to breakfast to see two cups on the table.

"Good morning." He nodded as he walked past him so he could sit down.

"Good morning." Unlike her shyness, Jungkook seemed much more awake and with an overwhelming air that made that distressed sensation ease somewhat.

Lucy picked up her fork and began to eat silently with overly careful bites as she noticed a gaze piercing her from the other end.

"When you finish breakfast I want to teach you one thing."

True to his word, after devouring what was left of his plate, Jungkook rose from the table and she followed behind. He felt a swirl of emotions that he could not stop.

What she wasn't expecting was for him to lead her to a huge library that she hardly knew existed.

"It is huge," I admit in a scream that he confessed the wonderful surprise that had been. The books placed perfectly on the bookshelves almost perfectly, you could tell that it was an important place for Jungkook since the brightness of his eyes gleamed menacingly.

"It is entirely yours." Feel free to pick up any book you want, although we can always go to town to buy more.

"With the ones here, I think that's enough." My God! ”I shout excitedly when I visualize a golden cover more than familiar among so much wood. She raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth surprised to find that type of book, there. “Do you have the story of Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf?” She furrowed her eyebrows in a grimace accompanied by a small smile. It was so striking that he had a children's tale among great classics that he could hardly see that Jungkook's cheeks had camouflaged a soft red.

"It was my favorite when I was little, I didn't fall asleep unless my mother read it to me at least twice." He confessed, exhaling those childhood memories. He smiled, imagining the situation of a little Jungkook between blankets as he begged his mother to start his reading. Although it died down in the same way that a feeling of remorse arose, he no longer spent time with his parents, least of all with his mother.

"You should have given him war ..."

Her velvety voice led him back to reality. Her smile just appeared when I watched from afar as Lucy's small feet leaned to reach the book. A feeling of tenderness similar to that of the other time caused him to walk to offer his help.

"Wait, I will ..."

But Lucy had already managed to catch him and they collided almost unintentionally when she got down and he lunged forward. Her back pressed to his chest harder than last time, feeling the hot breath falling into her ear, making her goose bumps. He swallowed and turned around, leaning on the shelf. Her fingers gripped the book with maddening anxiety as she realized how close they were so painful between them. Jungkook had a hand on the shelf next to her head for support, aware or not, that he was cornering her. Jungkook raised his hand in a delicate caress to her chin to get a better view of her clear eyes. The arm she had supported was closing the distance at too slow a speed, torturing her with the prospect of her dilated irises. His dark gaze kept her in place, almost instinctively or because she was amazed by that intense gaze. Her lips parted as he brought his thumb up to stroke her chin in small circles. Lucy closed her eyes to heighten the sense of pleasure, barely aware that Jungkook was approaching tortuously slow steps toward a single destination. She lifted her head a little to give him better access when she felt the brush of his nose on hers followed by a small contact with the soft skin of her approaching lips.

"Mister Jungkook your guest has just arrived." The voice of one of the house servants caused Jungkook to walk away immediately and Lucy to hide her face placing the book on her warm face.

“What guest?” I snort, trying to sound as kind as possible being aware that I had interrupted. The elderly man left the library without answering. Jungkook rubs his palm over his face to calm down and not kill whoever has come to his house without warning. Something told him that his parents' absence had something to do with the surprise guest. I glance at Lucy apologetically which the girl received with an embarrassed nod.

Through the hallway upstairs, he could already smell a peculiar perfume. The citrus smell was unmistakable, I just hope it was a mistake and that it really wasn't who I felt.

Unfortunately, going down the stairs to his huge mansion, he realized that his sense of smell had not fooled him.

"Cousin Kook but how long without seeing you!" Have you put on weight? ”Burlon, with the biggest and most false smile he could show as he followed his steps up the stairs. Jungkook snorted more than annoyed as he glared at his father, who kept a serious expression next to his wife.

“What is he doing here?” He didn't hide his anger in an ironic tone like his cousin did.

"He came on behalf of the neighboring town." I have invited you for a few days to file the sloths, please be kind.

His father's pleas caused him to sigh.

"Yes, Kook treat me like a princess." His maniacal laugh made his hair stand on end. He clenched his fists trying to control his wolf from taking over. However, another sweet smell made her look up quickly toward the stairs. "But what have we got here?" I had heard that you were married but the rumor had not reached me that your wife was such a beautiful specimen.

Lucy was halfway there when she felt the other alpha's piercing gaze from below. Her stomach clenched when she felt his eyes travel as far as he could without cutting himself. I look at Jungkook terribly self-conscious but he barely looked at him and he was already grunting at his cousin.

"Taehyung called me, did you ..." I walk in a flattering air to where she was when she finished going down the stairs to gently hold her hand and plant a kiss on the back, leaving her with a shiver. His dark eyes were similar to Jungkook's but much more mischievous. With nothing more than to compare both smiles that although they were too far away, Jungkook's toothy smile was as pleasant as the square of that flirtatious wolf.

"Lucy, please go." More than a plea, it sounded more like an overly demanding order. The vein in his neck already looked too visible, implying that his patience was running out.

"What? No, why so soon?"

Lucy looked at Jungkook for answers but only got a neutral and overly intense gaze.

"Listen to me."

"You are a curmudgeon, Cousin Kook."

"What a heady smell, shit, I had never smelled such a smell." How lucky you are to fuck, I almost become like a small wild omega when its perfume has gone up my nostrils.

"Signature." Gag. Slipping the folder with the papers into a noisy slip.

But Taehyung smiled mischievously.

"It must have been a pleasure being paired with someone so cute," he commented. I borrow a pen from the desk to capture his signature. They were just papers that agreed to the new territory deal. Delimiting their land so that there are no misunderstandings when hunting. Jungkook was deeply upset with his father's actions, he could have brought his uncle, at least he would not have to endure such high alpha airs. She didn't want him here, much less knowing that Lucy was close. He was jealous, damned jealous. Because although he trusted her, not so much in him.

"It is not your fault." Now get out of my sight.

"Oh come, we are family, there are no secrets between blood brothers. What was it like to take it? Delicious sure. What legs and what small breasts so well placed, how does your ..."

"If you talk about my female again with those words." No. ”He patted the table as he got up, a shout rumbling dominated by his primitive impulses. He had to calm down or he would end up transforming and slitting his neck. She closed her eyes, hiding her fiery red irises as she ran her tongue over her raging lip. "If you ever talk about my female again, no matter what it is, I'm going to rip your throat out with my fangs."

"Well, it hit you hard."

"Stay away from her, Taehyung." Don't force me to follow through on my threat.

"Relax, you're a little tense," the brown-haired boy lied, rising to rest his hands on his cousin's shoulders. Jungkook identified the fact as a mockery, finally roaring at Taehyung so that he would take his hands off her. Fangs coming out to impose dominance, Taehyung ended up walking away as he raised his hands to the air, hiding with an awkward smile how much his howl had stunned him.

"You better not notice your scent near her."

"Too bad my beloved uncles can't join us for this delicious dinner," Taehyung mentioned as he devoured a piece of meat with a pleasant smile. Jungkook rolled his eyes, then looked at Lucy to verify her condition. She looked awkward, too self-conscious about dining with someone she didn't know.

"Yes, eat and be quiet."

"Were you always so irascible or is it because I'm close to your female?"

Lucy, who until then had been quietly eating, raised her head to Taehyung quite surprised. Flashing nervously as she clarified in her head if what she had just said was true, or just the result of her joking nature. Jungkook had to hold back a groan to stay seated and not jump at his cousin's neck.

"Shut up and eat," he growled menacingly. Casting out your voice I recorded with as much impatience as shame. Lucy was listening to everything, and if she could perceive, just a little bit, discomfort in her. Taehyung would end up in the backyard with his head buried in the ground.

"Why are you reacting like this?" A moment ago you were yelling at me that if I approached her you would nail my fangs.

"With permission," she apologized in a too embarrassed whisper. Jungkook frowned too sadly when he saw her almost run to disappear. He squeezed the fork showing his white knuckles with a thirst for blood, specifically, that of his cousin. Giving Taehyung a voracious glance, he ran after her to try to explain.

It was a relief to him to see her climb the stairs.

"Sorry, it is martyrdom to dine with someone like him." I shouldn't have asked you to come down to dinner with us. ”He spoke too regretfully. Lucy suspended her leg and turned, holding on to the railing. She contracted when she saw true overwhelm in Jungkook's dark pupils, at least he had come looking for her.

"Yeah, it's kind of weird," I whisper. I go down the steps to shorten the distance, staying a couple higher to place his eyes on a level with his. Taehyung's inappropriate comments had made her more uncomfortable than she would like to admit, but that had not been the main reason she had decided to run away. "What she said ..." soft babble. Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed too hard. There was illusion in its brilliance, so much so that Jungkook was almost blind. She could feel the intensity with which her heart beat, nervous about an answer. "Is it true?"

"It is not so, I just warned him that he will not approach you. He did not mean it, well, unless he makes it clear." He ended up confessing. Lucy pursed her lips, she had avoided his question.

"Would you only do that to him if he got close to me? Why?"

He didn't know what, but his chest heaved with excitement, if he could ever know that Jungkook saw her as a female and not as the girl he had been forced to marry to keep his bond.

"You should have listened to the endless barbaric things he said about you as if he were an omega in heat." I don't want him to be near you, that's all.

"Your female said."

Jungkook straightened his back taut, his shoulders haughty from the rise of his chest in alarm. He felt anxiety in her, a need that was mortifying him. She didn't want to hurt him, because if she did, he would.

"Yeah, well, don't take it into account. Taehyung says a lot of nonsense. It's the only thing he's good at."

"I don't know why, but I have a feeling you're hiding something from me, Jungkook."

"I'm not hiding anything from you."

"Then why do you run away to the room farthest from the hallway every night?" Gripping the railing too tightly. She was agitated, annoyed by her cowardice.

"That's my business," he growled before walking out the other door.

Lucy tried to go down the steps to follow him but suddenly, her belly contracted curving her towards the railing. She moaned a little dizzy, thinking innocently that it was from eating so fast at dinner.

Drowned in her own sweat, anguished by the heat so suffocating that itchy between her legs. He opened his mouth and roared impatiently. Had a month already passed? As he could, he got out of bed almost dragging himself across the floor to get urgently to the bathroom kit. She opened the closet with so much anxiety that the products were scattered on the floor, the occasional shampoo spilling its contents. He didn't care too much, now he had more important things to take care of.

"It can't be," I sob. Her belly contracted so powerfully again that she ended up on her knees. She did not recall having been so suffocatingly hot. She felt the moisture between her thighs when I rub them out of necessity. Now he understood that rush to unite male and female when they were just beginning to be considered adults. Females were usually warm once a month when the full moon shone high in the dark sky. Also, he had known, from the many books he had read on the female body, that, as you turned years, the need for you to be taken was getting stronger. Until now, I hadn't felt the need to get fucked so badly.

I was involved in a pretty serious problem. Its heat had never passed without the inhibitirios and if it hurt now, he couldn't imagine how it would roar when midnight will come.

As best he could, he managed to hold himself up to go back to bed. With beads of sweat and red cheeks trying not to faint on the way. A delicious smell began to cloud her senses, these being much more receptive when his heat possessed her, a smell of honey, delicious honey coming from the closet. I drag my feet toward the cabinet, licking his mouth at how dry it was. When he opened its doors, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth fell open at the overpowering scent of the hanging garment. It was his jacket and his fucking scent.

Lucy slammed the door when she felt lucidity for a second. He had to go back to bed, even if he didn't want to, he had to. He couldn't continue torturing himself with her scent because that would make his situation worse.

But it didn't last long, her belly throbbed furiously again, taking away the little sanity she'd tried to establish. Her legs couldn't be any more wet from the exhorted amount of lubrication that was expelled from her vagina. His hole closing around nothing, urgently demanding to be filled by something, by an alpha's cock.

She opened the doors like a desperate woman. When the garment ripped, its scent not only penetrated her nose, it also contracted her belly even further. Lucy, lost in that exciting scent, ripped the jacket from the hanger, breaking it into a thousand pieces. He brought the garment up to his nose and breathed in its scent.

She growled completely overpowered, controlled by her scent, she ended up running down the hall in search of him.

I needed it to ease her.

He needed me to fuck her so badly.

He wanted his fucking cock between her thighs.

"Jungkook ..." I sob at the door. Anxiously scratching at the wood when I try to open it to find it closed. Jungkook woke up suddenly as a desperately sweet scent rose up his nose roses. I gasp, looking down at the sheets. His cock throbbed in need as I heard her moan behind the door.

He got up, sweating from his hands and his mouth suddenly dry. I put her ear to the door to hear her better.

"Get away," he growled. Lucy gasped needlessly, feeling distressed at his rejection. What he didn't know is that, Jungkook was controlling himself, he was using all his self-control not to knock down the door and fuck her in the hallway, open her beautiful legs and sink his cock deep inside her until he shouted her name.

"Please ... It hurts so much." His needy little howl was too devastating. Her irises took on the reddish color of her wolf when she squeezed her thighs and her wonderful lubrication rose up her nose. He licked his lips anxiously, too overwhelmed. He put his hand on the latch. I gasp at the anticipation.

But he shook his head away from the door.

"Go back to sleep, Lucy." He growled back. "I don't want to hurt you."

Jungkook slammed his fist against the door. Why did everything have to be so unfair? Why should he have known her like this? He cursed in fury when he heard him walk down the hall. He had perceived disappointment, sadness, much pain. Damn, he didn't reject her because he didn't want her, his damn erection screamed to sink into her tight pussy, but, the feeling of guilt was still installed in his chest.

He didn't want her to think he was taking advantage of her.

Too overwhelmed by shortness of breath, she ran to the nearest balcony. His hands hit the railing in anguish as he crashed into it. He stretched his neck back, his head back, the cool air calming his anxiety a little.

"My God, I've been following your scent all over the hall." A hoarse voice appeared from behind. Scaring her too much. Turning, he encountered Taehyung's mischievous pout. She clung to the wall as much as she could when she saw the air brazenly smelling. "Are you okay puppy?" I can help you with something?

"I don't think you can help me on this," I stammer in a hoarse tone. He didn't like the threatening look with which he was running her. He watched her with lust, his intense red eyes as he approached with slow steps.

"I think so," he assured. He smiled, gleaming his tongue in one step through his fangs. "But, I'm confused." Why aren't you fucking your husband? ”She scoffed, giggling wickedly at the need on her face. Delighting in the wet sweat that stuck her nightgown to her skin. Then, in an act that couldn't scare her anymore, Taehyung seemed to hit something on his head, stopping abruptly with a too dark, mischievous glow. “It hasn't taken you, yet.

"No, he, yes ...

"Don't lie to me or burn in hell, needy puppy," I whisper too attracted by my gasp. He strode over to me to stand in front of me, lightly imposing his body. I swallowed saliva burdened by the smell of pine that began to rise up my nose. Taehyung smelled great, but it wasn't the scent he wanted. I felt too small under his piercing predatory gaze. "Damn, how could I have rejected you and more when you have your heat?"

"He has not rejected me, I am the one who has decided to go through this." I tried to face him, thanking the cold weather for helping me to reduce the suffocation a little. But, I didn't count on him also being able to take advantage of the movement of the air to better inhale my scent and to know, through my heartbeat and my fear, that he was lying.

"But how capricious is destiny and what a beautiful coincidence. My parents are crazy because I do not commit myself, it is not my fault that the betas of my town are not pleasant to me. Like ... like you."

"You should listen to Jungkook and go back to bed."

I tried to get under his arm but he immediately got in the way.

"Oh! Wasn't it you who had decided not to relieve yourself?"

"I have to go," she sobs. This was getting out of hand, he could perfectly feel the need in his eyes, in the evil play of his tongue on his fangs.

"Don't go, going through the heat without a male is very hard." I can help you, let me ease you ...

"I'm already taken ..."

As I pulled my face away from his hand when I tried to stroke my cheek, I became hysterical. My heaving chest being stopped by his. I was very close, I wanted to go. Damn, I should have stayed in bed.

"Trickster pup, I can smell how needy you are from here." Just let me ...

"I warned you not to go near her." A deafening roar came from the balcony entrance. Taehyung stopped cornering me by turning abruptly. I shrugged my stomach full of fear. Jungkook roared furiously at his cousin, he was really afraid that in one of these he would jump against him and kill him. His gaze was so threatening, red irises, his chest heaving as he blew air out of his mouth.

"I have only offered my help." I was greatly surprised when I perceived fear in his tone, Taehyung seemed terribly terrified by the way he looked at his white knuckles.

"I'm going to slit your throat so deep that your pathetic alpha blood stained my mother's carpet," he roared. She screamed in fright when in overly striding strides, she approached Taehyung and lifted him up into the air before slamming his back against the wall. The chestnut groaned disoriented, coughing as Jungkook began to squeeze his neck.

"Jungkook ..." I sob scared to see him lose control like that. The muscles in his back tensed, then he dropped Taehyung's body to the ground, letting him cough from lack of oxygen.

"I told you to go back to your room, Lucy!" Damn it! ”He turned to her with all the rage in the world. Lucy cringed against the wall when she saw him approach.

"It's not even my room!" All this would not have happened if instead of marrying me you had married my sister! ”She cried. He ran away with tears clouding his sight. She couldn't take it anymore, she couldn't take her rejection, her screams anymore. She urgently needed to sink her head into her pillow and cry until she ran out of water on her body. She never imagined that she could yell at him like that, look at him with such contempt.

She entered the room slamming the door. She didn't care that Jungkook's parents heard her in her little tantrum. He ran to the bed and sat down as he placed his hand on his chest.

The door opened, then slammed shut more loudly than hers.

"Get up, let's talk," he demanded. Standing in front of the bed with his arms crossed. He was too irritated, he needed to control himself but that would require a time he didn't have.

"I don't want to talk to you," she denied as she drove her tear-stained gaze to the bed. She didn't want to look at him, she felt so humiliated and despised.

“You are an unconscious, how could it occur to you to wander around the house knowing that there is another male nearby that can smell you?” He growled, moving his arms from side to side, losing control. Thinking of everything that could have happened if he hadn't arrived on time, of the consequences that would have ruined everything. The moment an alpha marks you, you lose any chance of belonging to another male. The beta bite was easy to replace. But Taehyung was an alpha, if he had marked his precious neck, goodbye, because that would mean that his scent, his blood, his everything would belong to him. And that, that bitter feeling had him too upset. He didn't want it to belong to anyone but him, from the first time he smelled her, from the first time he saw her, he knew in the depths of his heart that this female would be for him.

"Do you mind?"

"Of course he does, you're my wife!"

“I am nothing of yours, nor have you even taken me!” His dominant roar caught him off guard. Accustomed to keeping situations under control, I let Lucy get up and push him away. Jungkook did not move, he was simply surprised by how really upset he noticed her. He felt so much disappointment, a craving so strong that it clouded his character. One more push, a heartbreaking sob, Jungkook caught his hands before he continued to hurt himself. Suddenly, all the anger, all the jealousy left her body, changing into a feeling of guilt. A terrible and distressing feeling of sadness. I hear her heart pound, her irises swell. She wasn't mad at him, she was mad at herself. That feeling ended up confusing him.

Lucy, still defeated by exhaustion, continued to stir in her arms, screaming, crying, pleading for him to leave. Jungkook ended up overpowered by his instincts, drawing her tightly to him. She was silenced by the touch of his hot breath on the sensitive skin of her upper lip. He swallowed, the alpha's fingers clenching his arm so eagerly that he would swear that tomorrow he would have bruises on his skin. I avoid eye contact, closing my eyes, tilting my head to avoid being controlled by her red irises.

"You haven't even kissed me ..." he confessed with all the pain in the world. Opening her eyes to send him a heartbreaking look, full of broken illusions. Jungkook stared at the deep detail of his yellowish irises. His fingers tightened more intensely, he could not control himself, less when the smell of his heat impacted urgently on his nose. Much less when an anxious moan emerged from her perfect lips after rubbing her thighs. Her eyelids half closed with excitement. Its brilliance startled at the bad need to be reciprocated.

Jungkook couldn't take it anymore, too much emotion, too much demure. He could no longer hold back, he had lost because he had fallen before his most primitive self. Jungkook squeezed his arm again, emitting a hoarse moan when he inhaled thoroughly. His smell. Damn it, it was dripping. It was ready for him, so that he would take it as he had wanted so much.

"Jungk ...

But he had already silenced her. He slammed her against the door to press her against his body. He grabbed her by the neck and brought her to his desperate mouth. Her lips parted wide, not caring that he was being too rough. He had been too long ignoring her wishes, now they would be more than rewarded. Lucy's eyes tightened at the addictive taste of his saliva. He groaned, letting his inner wolf take the reins, reaching up his hair to clench his hair in a fist as they eagerly ate their mouths. There was a moment when Jungkook parted his lips, causing such a flattering snap that he almost lost his identity. She, seized with excitement, ran to glue their mouths together, but Jungkook held her in place in an overly revealing growl. Lucy gasped in agitation from shortness of breath. Jungkook groaned before dominance kissing her again. Their kiss was so dirty, full of passion and accumulated lust. Out of necessity, Jungkook's hands slid down the curve of her waist until they reached her hip and clenched them eagerly. She stifled a pleading moan. He kept going down terribly slow, squeezing her bottom, making it collide with the protruding bulge that caged his pants.

"God I want to fuck you so badly." He almost drowned out his voice when he returned he felt the moisture of his crotch wet his needy erection. Lucy gasped in pain, a fear in her eyes making him stop abruptly. "Lucy, if you don't want us to ... We better stop now."

But she was too fucked up, she was still scared, but it wasn't because of the situation, or because of him, she was just panicked not to like him without clothes.

"I want to," she whispered, pulling her mischievous tooth closer to stretch her lip. Jungkook placed his open palms on his waist to bring his noses together and thus, not miss the detail of his dilated eyes.

"Fuck," I howl. Desperate, he urgently kneaded her butt making her moan. He crushed his hands on her thighs to lift her up. Her legs encircled his waist, her small body matched his so well. Jungkook didn't waste much time finishing taking her to the bed to throw her on the sheets. Her back bounced up the nightgown, revealing to her anxious eyes the sweet skin of her velvet thighs. Lucy, excited, tried to rub her thighs to calm the itch in her crotch, but Jungkook didn't let her. She crushed her hands to his skin and spread her legs too desperately. His hand went to his sweaty face, letting his fingers run in soft caresses down her neck, licking his lips at the sight so appetizing. He let his hand roam the endless ends of her collarbones, gently skirting the bone until she fell into the valley of her breasts with her nipples presenting herself enthusiastically to him. I knead one of her breasts while sighing. Lucy cried, dropping her head. Her delicious sweaty neck exposed for her mouth. I couldn't be more excited to mark it. Jungkook raised his corners to form a delightful smile, his eyes directed to the dark stain of her panties. "I can smell from here how needy you are for an alpha's cock."

"Please ..." I sob disturbed by the uncontrollable need I suffered. Her back was curved forward so as not to lose the sensation of his touch. With her legs open for him. Jungkook reached for her panties and gently squeezed her fingers. Making them wet and a little sticky. Lucy gasped, groaned, all she could emit was coming out of her half-open mouth. Her nightgown was almost ripped from her weak, dying body. Her nipples greeted him erect with excitement. On instinct, Jungkook licked his lips imagining what it would be like to have those beautiful, round and perfect breasts in his mouth. Another in his place would have lost his mind, ripped his pants off and started to fuck her, but maybe it was the time he had thought about having her so he wanted to have a little time, enjoy his body.

He took off his shirt, revealing his majestic figure, those broad shoulders, well-marked pecs that gnashed with the desire of his mouth to try, his damn abs, and above all, that path of pubic hair that disappeared through his pants. Those who hid something much more attractive. Jungkook threw his head back leaving the sight of his wide and shiny neck as a reward for how wet the accumulated sweat had left him.

"Give me time, honey." It's been a long time since I've wanted to know the taste of your skin. ”I whisper under a persuasive tone. I put my mouth to her neck to start distributing wet kisses and small bites that did nothing but leave her wanting more. I stick my tongue out to run it inside her neck, her hot breath contrasting against the wet area leaving her completely on edge. Lucy tried to close her thighs but found Jungkook's hips. Her nipples tightened from the pressure of his chest coupled with hers. His hand hooked into her silky hair to stretch from the roots. Jungkook growled disgust bringing his mouth to hers anxiously. Lucy opened her mouth when she felt the pressure of his tongue on her lower lip. I kiss her hard, hard. The nails superficially scratched his broad back as he came down to attack her neck again, this time, much stronger. There was no more compassion, he kissed her, mojo and bit as he wanted.

Like the hand between their bodies to knead her breast urgently, she embedded her nails into his skin when her nipple cried out in pain from the pressure just exerted.

"Oh, Jungkook," she moaned uncontrollably as she felt her teeth roam over his collarbones. His bites, despite being, a little strong, there was some love in them, an affection that was represented with kisses to calm the bruises. He caressed with the surface of his lip until he reached the sensitive skin of his halo, which he wet with his tongue and introduced into his mouth. The salty taste of his skin was too addictive, he was sure, when he had the privilege of clenching his nipple with his teeth, that this game had made him a gambler. It parted, leaving a click too suggestive to slide into the other.

"Shit, from the first time I saw you I wanted to do this." I speak against his skin creating tickles. Lucy moaned as she punched the sheets when her separation was with a suction. "If your pathetic boyfriend hadn't been there, he would have ripped your clothes off and fucked you right there."

"I would have left you," I sob. Too lost in how her tongue sank slowly into her navel. Her body spasmed slightly as she felt an overly suggestive kiss on top of her panties. The pressure of his mouth had been so wonderful that I swear at that moment, that when he took that garment out and kissed her again, he couldn't live a single day without it. Jungkook let out a too hoarse laugh, his breath hitting her folds directly as one of her fingers pushed aside her panties.

"Would my bitch let me pierce her sweet kitty with my huge cock?"

Jungkook stretched his mouth with pleasure as his eyes never stopped looking at his needy gaze. Lucy swallowed nervously, anxious that her lips that brushed her tender spot would drop a little further. Jungkook licked his lips one last time before crushing a sweet kiss right in the center.

"Jungkook ..." she howled agitatedly as she felt more pressure from her sinful lips. Her tongue came to play an important role, starring in a walk between her folds leaving her with a dry throat. "God, yes! Jungkook please ..." She kept screaming ecstatically, and somehow, she loved it. His cock vibrated with enthusiasm inside her pants. She loved his pleading as he kissed her inflated clit. He brought a finger to the scene, stroking its red button so he could stick his tongue down. Lucy moaned uncontrollably with her legs too restless, Jungkook held her open with one hand while the other pressed her palm against his center, before taking the liberty of inserting a finger. His hole cutter sucked easily. A compassionate scream succumbed strongly when she felt what her first orgasm was. Her cheek was resting on the pillow with her mouth open for better breathing. Her belly rising and falling. Her legs dropping from exhaustion.

Jungkook broke up to enjoy his work. Seeing her so agitated just with his tongue made her want to tear her apart. I eagerly remove his pants to release his needy cock. Lucy's eyes widened at the noise and she looked at her. It was much larger than he had expected with the wet pink tip of his own precum. Jungkook moved his cock, stretching his skin, letting the beta's ears hear the wet snap of her masturbation. Her mouth became water but that did not remove the fear that began to help her. It was her first time, she had had an orgasm lubricating her entrance much more, however, that did not block the thoughts of how that would fit inside her little hole. She started to panic because until now she hadn't noticed the pain the first few times.

She tried to get up off the mattress too agitated but Jungkook wrapped her neck to lay her down again. Her red irises caused yellow ones to appear. Lucy began to stir from lack of oxygen while complaining in sobs. Jungkook groaned dominant, leaving her completely still. Pleasure clouded her mind again, leaving her under his control.

"Spread your legs for me, darling," I order too impatiently. Lucy spread her legs, clearing the way for her moisture to hit her nose again. With his free hand he brought the tip of his cock to his hole, letting just his touch cause impatient moans. I run the tip to lubricate with his moisture, Lucy dropped her head while panting too far. "Shit, your little wet kitten is soaking the tip of my cock. Do you want it inside you?"

"Yes," I sob. Spreading your legs wider if possible. Jungkook groaned satisfied at his submission. Her fingers closed enthusiastically in his throat.

"A lot?"

"A lot..."

Sliding slowly so as not to harm him, finally, he introduced the first centimeters, causing both screams of pleasure. Jungkook started to get dizzy when his tight entrance pressed his walls against him.

"Shit, I won't be able to control myself, you're too close." I sob, letting out a shaky gasp. Too much pleasure was beginning to impose his impulses on his clarity. It was her first time, she really didn't want to split her in two, but it was so hard to stay steady when as he entered, inch by inch, she urgently spread her legs wider.

"Don't do it, take me however you want." You are my alpha I am at your disposal.

She was so good that she took away what little sanity she had forced herself to keep. He placed himself faithfully on top of her, trying not to crush her completely. He slid his hand down her throat to the nape of her neck and pulled her into his desperate mouth. Their tongues were too anxious. She felt Lucy's nails adjust to her skin, her other hand stretching the strands of her disheveled hair. The kiss was cut off by her when Jungkook made his first lunge. Her head fell limp to the pillow, offering her neck without realizing it. Jungkook grabbed her hips to improve her fit. Lucy moaned again and he smiles on the skin of her chin.

"My sweet submissive puppy." He kissed her ear with a too dark tenderness. Lucy gasped as she let her lips stutter meaninglessly. Jungkook clenched his hips eagerly as he picked up a much more predatory rhythm. He ended up panting hoarsely against his ear. "Tonight I'll settle for taking you like that, spreading my legs as I sink the way I want." But the rest of the nights I want you with your ass up showing me that delicious ass.

"More, give me, more." I almost shouted. Disoriented by the cloud of pleasure that clouded her mind. Her nails leaving small furrows of reddened skin. His hands melted into her hips celebrating a devastating rhythm. It was no longer controlled, the need to make her moan was much stronger.

"Do you like how I fuck you?" I whisper agitatedly against her ear as the head of the bed hit the wall with fury. "My good bitch is going to carry my puppies."

"Yes Yes."

"Shit." He closed his eyes ecstatically. He had never felt such pleasure, it was as if all his instincts would rise to a thousand and his belly was about to explode in a wonderful way.

Lucy gasped as the pressure returned to her lower abdomen. He brought his hands up to his neck when Jungkook lovingly assaulted his neck again. Lucy groaned in shock as she felt the sharp tips of her fangs crash against her warm skin. He didn't even know why they had appeared, Jungkook had only become aware of his presence when he tried to kiss an old ribeye.

"Take me," she gasped in overwhelming anxiety. Jungkook put his hand to his neck, turned his head to his liking, and finally sank his fangs into his flesh. Jungkook stopped his movements to prevent the wound from getting bigger. Not realizing that the orgasm overwhelmed them when she decided to drink his blood. When they were removed, two small holes were marked on his neck that would later disappear. Creating a bond for life. Lucy pressed her cheek to the fluffy surface with more than surprise. Feeling his cum dripping inside her, hitting her walls with enthusiasm as her small contractions milked him patiently. She was suddenly deeply excited.

A few minutes later, Jungkook came out of it. He lay on the bed with one arm tucked under his head. Lucy snuggled into his chest a little shy as she felt Jungkook's hand tighten on her hip to pull her closer.

"Why did you take so long?" She murmured a little self-consciously. He had just realized that he had been screaming too enthusiastically. She blushed embarrassed. Still a little dizzy, she crushed her cheek to his warm chest. His breath fell heavily against her hair, relaxing her.

"For fear of letting my impulses dominate me. I didn't want to hurt you."

"That time..."

"Yes, dammit, there was nothing I wanted in the world more than to eat your mouth and put your butt on my father's desk." But I shouldn't, we barely knew each other and I didn't want you to form a wrong image of me.

Lucy put a hand on her chest and looked at him with her eyes open.

"And what image do you think I have of you now?"

"I don't care, because I'm going to do what I told you, Lucy." I love you every night with me.

"Do you love me?" Jungkook managed to perceive her emotion, as her heartbeat ran wild inside her chest, giving her away completely.

"I don't love you, I love you."

They both drew a too cute smile.

"Me too, alpha."

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sunnyborabora · 5 years ago

Text

Obsession (Suhø x Reader)

You’re in love with a man you know nothing about, but it doesn’t stop you from falling deeper and deeper.

Hi! Here is a little drabble to celebrate EXO’s comeback that was a real masterpiece! Junmyeon bias wrecked me hard I am still crying ndnbhdhdhd Anyway what did you think of the come back? And the concept? I loved I am still crying over it.... I tried to write x exo Suhø differently than I would write Junmyeon. I feel like he would be a mastermind, cold and calculating, violent in his acts but eager to find his own identity and not to just be the other version of Suho. Tell me what you think about it!

Tags: Super explicit smut, porn without plot, soft bdsm,Suhø has feelings, kinda sad tho :/

« You like it, don’t you ? » You were like paralyzed as he was whispering in your ears all those obscene things. His hard rock chest was pressed against your back and you could feel his muscle contract. « Babygirl has been bad, so so bad » You could sense his smirk in his words, the way his large hand was serpenting along your neck to tighten around your throat. Your breath itched as his hold was becoming tighter. You couldn’t see his face but you knew. And maybe it was better that way. You were already so intoxicated by him, you knew how his appearance was something that would fuck up your brain even more. « Suho please… -Oh come on… I can’t give it to you so easily » How did you even find yourself in this situation. You were just an innocent cashier, all you did was being nice. And maybe falling in love with the guy that always came into your shop to buy food. He was fascinating. You couldn’t stop looking at him, your heart racing every time he was coming into the store. His hood low on his head, you were only able to see his dark eyes accentuated by strong brows. You were unable to look at him in the eyes, this man was truly sending shivers down your spine. He was coming more and more, every time enticing the most embarrassing reaction from you. Your body was reacting to his in a way that you couldn’t explain. He was seeing this, you, how you would blush, how you would look away. How you seemed to wait for his arrival. But today has been different. The day your relationship took a turn was when you had a night shift. He had not come yet and it was almost the time for you to close the shop. You were on your way to close when someone entered. But it wasn’t who you hoped to see. « Sorry sir we are closed ». But you really didn’t have the time to react when the stranger pointed the gun at you. You dropped your keys, your body going numb with fear. « Give me the money, don’t tempt anything » And you didn’t. You rushed to the cashier and opened it as fast as you could. As you were handling him the money he grabbed your wrist making you tumble and tripped. « Get up ! » You yelped in pain as his hold tighten around your wrist. « The fuck is happening ? » You turned toward the entrance as a deep voice resonate in the space. It was the man, his familiar silhouette triggering a flow of emotion. Tears started streaming down your face as you try to get away from the man holding you. « Don’t get closer fucker ! Just go and I won’t shoot your dumb face ! » He didn’t move a muscle. The way the artificial light was hitting his face was making him look intimidating, scary even. You felt the grip on your wrist becoming loose and you yeet yourself out. You felt the man turn around and expected to get shot, but you didn’t. You heard a big boom behind you and the scream of pain of someone. You turned around to see the raider on the ground. « Are you okay ? » You couldn’t answer, your throat so tight it was impossible for you to speak. Burning tears erupted from your ayes as you collapsed on the ground. You felt too strong hand on each side of your shoulders. « You’re not hurt right ? » You shook your head still crying. « Stupid girl. Putting yourself in dangerous situation. » He put you on your feet and you fell in his arms still weak from what you have lived. He let you hug him, taking comfort in his embrace. After a moment he grabbed your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks. « What if I did not come hm ? What would you have done ? » You did not answer. What could you have done ? Nothing. But him being here, him who saved you, and who was now holding you. « Hmm, baby is not answering », he smirked, his face coming closer to yours. « You look so scared, so fucking hot » You did not even blink when his mouth crashed into yours. It was violent, his hand clenching even harder on your jaw. « Stop, please » He released you, his mouth coming near your ear. « You want me to stop Y/n ? Are you sure ? » You started shaking in his arms, when his other hand winded along your curves. « How do you know my name ? -The question is what do I not know about you ? Pretty girl that always waits for me to come in hmm » He grabbed your ass, making you jump. « Call me Suho babygirl » And you did, whispering his name as he drags you in the storage room. For the first Suho fucked you senseless. Making you forget your fear, your insecurities. You were bent over the bench as he was trusting in you. Your knees were weak, but his strong hold on your hips was not allowing you to fall. « Fuck, Y/n, you're so tight, so fucking tight, so much more than I imagined » You tried not to think too much about how he imagined you two together before. But the slaps of hips against your ass was so loud, he had so much strength and a sort of animosity that could not be contained. You weren’t seeing anything as he was just moving you along his dick as he pleased, but you could feel something shifting behind you. He groaned deep, and you came for the third time on his dick, almost fainting. You couldn’t put a name on the type of relationship you had. Suho, as he told you to call him, never came back to the grocery store. He just knew where to find you. And every time he came, he would fuck you, so good you would almost lose your mind, and he would leave. You didn’t know anything about him, and he would never tell you anything. That was the rule. Sometimes, you would wonder, as he was settling besides you on your bed. With time, he was staying a bit longer every time. Sometimes he would hold you in his arms, letting you pass your hands through his deep red hair. His blue eyes were closed as if he was savoring those little moments. Even if you were doubting it. Today wasn’t different. He just seemed even more on the edge than usually. He pushed your skirt up around your waist, and you heard him catch his breath. « Fuck… » he sighed. You pushed your hips back towards him almost involuntarily, but he resisted. You let out a quiet whine as you watch him walk around you like you were a prey. He was wearing that obscene red suit, the color of his hair. It wasn’t buttoned up, and you could clearly see his chest and abs. His hair were styled in a way he looked like he had horns. « Now I can do anything I like to you, for as long as I like, » he said, his voice smooth but laden with danger. « Yes, » you say in a voice barely more than a whisper. « You wouldn��t disagree right. Babygirl would let me do anything to her. -Yes, I would. -Even if what I want is to break you? » He said, his voice deep and dark, as if he was mocking you. « Go on the bed baby, bend over and let me see that ass of yours » You did as he told you. As if his voice had a hypnotic power over you. He walked slowly back towards you, never taking his eyes off your body. You bit your lip so hard you thought it might bleed, trying to contain yourself as you heard him unbuckling his belt. Suho wasn’t a man of many words except when they were dirty, but his actions were even worse. Within seconds, you feel the biting pain of the leather striking your bare ass. Before you could respond, it was followed by another, harder blow, and you cried out as your body is ravaged by the perfect combination of pleasure and pain. A third loud crack echoed around the room. You clawed at the bed with your fingernails, gasping for breath as he slowly dragged the belt across your tender skin. You’re expecting, no, craving, the next one, and he knew it. Even without looking at him you can feel the sadistic smile on his face as he teased you. « I want you to ask for it, » he said, and you could swear his smirk was audible. You took a deep, shaky breath in and exhale slowly. « Please, Suho, fuck... » you cried softly, your voice shaking. He seemed satisfied with that, and you heard the belt swishing through the air before cracking across your skin one last time. Your body trembled as he traced the red marks with his fingertips. His touches wandered down to your inner thighs, making you moan softly. His own breath caught in his throat as his fingers wandered a little too far, and he felt how wet you were, how desperate you were for his touch, for his body. He pulled you up roughly by the hair, earning a small yelp of surprise from you, and turned you to face him. He stared at you for a second, but you could see it, his eyes glowing orange now, before kissing you roughly. It took you by surprise, because usually he would take on your hand and knees like an animal, it was unusual for him to kiss you. The only thing you were aware of was him, how his tongue was in your mouth and his hands were pulling your hair and grasping at your body and God, how much you wanted him. You didn’t know before knowing him, that it was possible to want, to love someone that much. Because even if you were doubting his feelings for you, you knew you loved him deeply. When his lips finally left yours, you gasped for air, and suddenly his lips were on your neck. You moaned into his hair, taking a deep breath of his scent, your voice wavering as he gently bit you, sending electric shocks through your body. Satisfied with your reaction, he bit you harder before sucking on the soft skin of your neck until he was satisfied that he had marked you. Marked you as his. He left another hickey on your thigh, as e was on his knees. It wasn’t usual. He would never put himself in a situation that would make him look inferior. But today he seemed particularly attentive. His warm breath was dangerously close to where you wanted his gorgeous face the most, and it took every ounce of self-control you had just to restrain yourself from clutching at his hair and redirecting him yourself. But you knew better. You knew you weren’t authorized to touch him. He looked up at you with his dark blue eyes, just seeing him looking at you like that, like a hawk watching you, that made you moan.When he finally parted his lips from your body, he took a step back, taking of his jacket, showing you his sculpted body. It was like he had been made by the gods themselves, but knowing him, he probably would a demon coming straight from hell to torment you. He unbuttoned his trousers, letting them set on his hips. He grabbed your ankle, drawing you closer to him in a swift motion. Something was different today. He looked into your eyes as he entered you. You sighed deeply, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he filled you. He started slowly, fucking you with long, deep strokes, but as you both lose control he picks up the pace, fucking you relentlessly against the wall. He was looking deep into your eyes, his mouth hanging open. You were so tempted. You wanted to put your hands in his beautiful hair, mess it up. You wanted to touch him. You grabbed his biceps trying to stabilize you, your weak whimpers slowly turning into long, shaky cries of ecstasy as he brought you closer to orgasm. Just as you’re about to climax, he laughed, a quiet, dirty, sadistic laughter in your ear. « Yes come on princess come around my cock », he husked in your ear, as he kept trusting, faster and faster, as you come, throbbing around his cock. His trusts never stopped and you felt like you were going to come all over again. « Don’t… stop…Suho » you moaned in his ear and you hear him groaned. You sighed his name out loud, and he looked into your eyes and bit his lip as he slowly ran his fingers up your thigh again. He groaned under his breath as he felt you clench again and again. You simply nodded your head and moaned softly in response, mentally begging him to give you more. He pinned your hands above your head as he brushed his lips against the hickeys on your neck, then the bruises on your ribs, before leaving a trail of kisses from between your breasts, downwards, until he was looking up at you. His eyes had a weird orange tint. He grabbed your hips, pulled you towards him and gave you what you needed the most. You entwined your fingers in his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers as you scraped his scalp and cry out his name over and over again like a sacred mantra as he trusted in you hard, his hips rolling between your thighs. You came again, screaming his name as you hug him tightly. Seconds later, He was back trusting in you again, abusing your cunt again and again. He’s sensual and slow, occasionally pausing to catch your gaze or lightly kiss your lips. And you think you might cry. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, your bodies moving as one. You clung to him, slowly coming undone in his arms again and you hear him groaned and finally you felt the moment when the last string of his control gave out, he gave into his pleasure entirely, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let himself go, his body shaking slightly as he came deep inside you, so deep inside, so much you thought his cum already dripping out of your cunt. The intensity of it wrenches another crashing wave of pleasure from your body. Feelings you can’t describe soar through you, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your voice gives out, cracking as you try to call out his name one last time.You stayed in each other's arms as you give and take from each other. It was the first time it ever happened. He was on his side, hugging you, still inside you. You felt so incredibly intimate. Tears started streaming down your face. « Don’t cry... » You couldn’t help yourself. You felt like something was wrong. « I have to tell you something… -What ? -I won’t be able to come for a while… » You knew it. You clutched your hands around his arm, not wanting to let go ever. « Y/n ? » You didn’t want him to leave. Every time he was disappearing after coming to see you was like he was taking a piece of you with him. « Don’t leave me. » He wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He seemed tormented. « Just stay safe while I am gone okay ? » You nodded still not letting go. « I’am not going anywhere right now, you can sleep. » His eyes were shining a weird hue. His red hair were a mess falling on his forehead. He looked so beautiful. You tried to fight against sleep, perfectly knowing that once you’ll be gone into Morpheus’arms, he’ll leave. But you couldn’t help it, weirdly enough you never felt this safe. Before falling asleep, you took a last look at his face, seeing him looking at you. « Don’t forget about me Suho. -I will never » He hugged you and you closed your eyes.

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taebinzdimples · 5 years ago

Text

You are the Father

Pair: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Namjoon had been your boyfriend for four years and your now husband for three. He was winding down from his American Tour and it was their last one before their band disbanded. As hard as it was for him, he was ready to stay home and start a family. You couldn’t be happier to tell him the news.

Warnings: There isn’t really any except form pregnancy talk, smut and, small celebratory sex.

A/N: I got this idea from @amethysthope and I just had to write it! The idea of Namjoon as a father has been gut wrenchingly soft so I hope you guys enjoy!

When you first met Namjoon, you never knew just how drastically he would change your life. Meeting through your mutual friend, Jimin, it was hard to keep you two away from each other after that. “Love at first sight” most would say. You had to agree. Something drew you to him instantly and he to you.

The band life and schedule made Namjoon hesitant for date you at first, and it scared you as well. However, after a year of flirting, talking, small dates, and just about everything else, you two decided to make it official. At first the fans were skeptical, but they wanted Namjoon to be happy and he was with you. Eventually, you learned to get over the press, the fans, pretty much everything, and accept that your boyfriend was an Idol and he loved it.

It was three months after Namjoon had returned from a tour and asked you to marry him. Now three years later, you’re married and BTS is wrapping up the last of their tour. It was late and you knew Namjoon would try to call when it wasn’t drastically late into the night to talk to you. They had two more cities to play before he came back and BTS would be done.

It was a sad thought to think about. You watched them because of Jimin and they were the reason you got together with Namjoon in the first place. To see them no longer together broke your heart. But, time moves on, and there are just some things we cannot control.

You laid in bed watching tv when your phone began to buzz. You should’ve been sleeping, but you really missed him. “Joonie.” You said playfully as you answered. He smiled softly at you through though the camera lens and it made your heart swoon. “Hey (y/n), how are you doing?” He asked as he set his phone down so he didn’t have to hold it.

“I’m okay. Really missing you.” You told him as he nodded. “I agree, I miss you too. But, I’ll be home Saturday, so you don’t have to wait much longer.”

The thought of having your husband back home and in your arms was teasing to your heart. He smiled at you and you watched the dimples in his cheeks become deeper. God you loved those dimples. It was the first thing you noticed about him. The day you walked into the practice room to grab Jimin for lunch, Namjoon had been laughing at something one of the other members had said and from there you were in love.

It was silent for a moment when Namjoon spoke again. “(Y/N), I’ve been thinking..” He started slowly watching you as you nodded. “What is it love?” You asked seeing the look on his face.

“Well,” He continued, “I was thinking, when I get back, do you think we could start our family?”

This shocked you. Not because you weren’t ready or anything, mainly it was just because you didn’t think he would ever bring it up. You had mentioned it a few times here and there to each other, but with his busy schedule, you didn’t want to start until it was all said an done. You didn’t want to raise a child alone.

Your heartbeat began to race and your smile was big. “Of course Joonie. I would love to grow our family.” You told him happily and his dimpled smile for bigger. “Really?” He asked you and you nodded excitedly. “Yes! Namjoon that’s all I’ve wanted since I met you. You, me, a baby or two, and a dog of course.” You giggled. Namjoon wasn’t always so big on the dog idea, but he loved you so much, he would do it if it made you happy.

“Then when I get back, prepare for all the sex you can possibly have.” He smirked at you and you just laughed shaking your head.

—-

Saturday.

Today was the day. Namjoon’s flight would be in soon and you couldn’t wait to see him. You had cleaned your penthouse a million times over, even if Namjoon had hired someone to do it for you. You didn’t care. You had to distract yourself. You had taken every calculation to make sure you could get pregnant. Within the week, you had went to the OBGYN to make sure you were able to conceive and bear children, as well as make sure you wouldn’t have any pregnancy risks.

You had tracked your ovulation every single day and this week was perfect. Your ovulation cycle would end Monday, so the gap wasn’t particularly big but enough to at least try. You had also made sure to buy some early response pregnancy tests. You weren’t going to be upset if it didn’t happen right away, but you were just happy to try.

3:00pm.

Namjoon would be home any minute. You had offered to go to the airport to pick him up but he had told you that Jin was going to drop him off. They had one final meeting before the final goodbye. It wasn’t like they were saying goodbye to each other, just go-go life they had experienced.

Suddenly you heard keys jingling. Your heart began to race. The door knob turned and you stepped into the middle of the way as Namjoon looked up seeing you. The tears in his eyes were obvious and you could tell it was hard. It hurt because you knew he was saying goodbye to his family and that was the hardest thing to experience.

He walked over to you and pulled you in his arms as you wrapped your around his neck. He was taller than you, so you had to stretch and stand on your toes a bit. “God I missed you.” He said burying his face in your neck. You inhaled his scent as you held him. “Me too.”

—-

You sat at the table eating as he talked about the final leg of the tour, and what went down at the studio before he came home.

“They said in maybe three years, we can talk about a small reunion or something. I think we’re all just happy to have our own time and work on ourselves.” He said stuffing a bit of ramen into his mouth. You nodded. You didn’t really understand how this stuff worked, but then again, you weren’t a K-POP idol.

You could see the tiredness in his eyes as you watched him. You didn’t realize how long you had been staring until he called you on it. “Do I have noodle on my face?” He smirked tilting his head. This made you chuckle but you shook your head. “Not at all, I’m just excited to have you home and to myself.” You cooed softly.

He stood up coming over to you pulling you towards him. “I didn’t forget you know. I still want to start our family.” He said softly putting his forehead to yours. “I know. I just didn’t want to make you feel like we had to try right now.”

You put your hand on his face cupping his cheek. The feel of his skin beneath yours had your body igniting with a burning fire. He looked at you as you made your way to his hair feeling the softness of it between your fingers. You had this man memorized like your favorite and you knew exactly what ways to touch him before he caved.

His breathing became softly staggered but you could tell. He leaned down pressing his lips to yours as you let out a small moan. You missed him. Eight months he had been gone, and eight months you had to take care of yourself. Toys weren’t as fun as the real thing.

The kiss became heavier and sloppier and you needed this man now. Like,

Right now.

You broke the kiss as you took his hand leading him to the bedroom. Of course, you had a plan of action. You wore his favorite bra and pantie set, and even cleaned yourself up a little. You had lacked in the shaving department for the past month, and your toenails and fingernails lacked a good mani-pedi.

All these things you wanted to have done because you wanted it to be perfect. Of course, you knew Namjoon didn’t care about that stuff, but you wanted this to be perfect for you too. He slowly lifted your shirt up as his fingers teasingly touched your skin.

Your body shook from the small intimate touch, but you were ready to give into any desire he asked of you. He threw your shirt god knows where into the room, and your hands were reaching for him. He didn’t stop you. You undid every button, but slowly as your anticipations made the heat for each other grow. He stood before you shirtless, his broad chest heaving as he took each breath. His shoulders broad in all of their glory.

He drank you in. The beautiful white lace accented your skin and the way your stomach was flat and toned. You had silently thanked him for getting you a trainer. You never needed one before, but you always wanted to keep up with Namjoon when it came to certain things, and sex was one of them.

The kiss had picked up the intensity that it left in the kitchen and Namjoon was practically ripping your pants off before you could even blink. He laid you down as his body weight sank you into the mattress. It was just you in your bra and panties, and Namjoon in his boxers. You needed to be closer. You needed to feel his skin touching you. You were craving it like a ravenous dog who hadn’t eaten in months.

He moved his wet kisses down to your neck as you moved your head to the side to give him more access. He moved up to your earlobe lightly tugging on it. Your moaned. It was one of your sweet spots and he knew it. Even tortured you with it from time to time. You moved your hand down and palmed him through his boxers. “Fuck.” He hissed as he felt your hand on him.

Your body arched in response to his harsh wording. Namjoon rarely cussed, and when he did, it was usually because your mouth was wrapped around him giving him blowjobs. Finally, you were both naked and his head was between your thighs.

You didn’t want to wait, you were practically dripping from how bad you wanted him, but he wasn’t going to give in so easily. “Patience (y/n), I want to take our time. We have all night.” He teased as he flicked his tongue against your clit. Your back arched and he smirked. What a beautiful view he had of you. “Namjoon,” You groand. “Please.”

You hated begging, but you missed him. It wasn’t even about trying to get pregnant, you just needed him. Of course, your cries were ignored as he comtimued working you over with his tongue. You felt a finger enter you and your toes curled. Gripping the sheets, you put your head back. He worked you over and it was driving you crazy.

“Don’t come.” He commanded and that made you almost smack him.

“Namjoon, either you fuck me, or you let me come.” You retaliated. You weren’t in the mood for games tonight. It’s been eight months and all you want is to be fucked into next week by your husband. You felt him stop and your head was spinning. Being brought close to your climax then pulled away from it was making you mad.

“Nam-“ You were cut off by your own cry as he entered you. The sound that escaped Namjoon’s mouth drove your senses mad. Your husband was the sexiest man alive, and you had him all to yourself. “Oh my god.” He groaned as he started moving in you.

You felt a small pain since it had been awhile, but soon it subsided and your body was responding to every single bit of him. You were gripping the sheets, your body was arched, your head was back, and you were in ecstasy. You pulled him down to you as you kissed him. It was sloppy and needy but you didn’t care. The small clashing of your teeth against him only turned you on more.

He was hitting you g-spot over and over. He was angled so perfect and it was making your body start to shake. You knew this wouldn’t last too much longer because, your husband had been gone, there was only so much you could do yourself.

“Fuck Namjoon! I’m so close!” You whimpered as he wrapped your leg around his waist. He went deeper hitting you in just the right way as he smirked. “Come for me (y/n).” He grunted. You couldn’t hold it back much longer, you had to release. “Don’t make me tell you again.” He warned and that was all it took before you exploded around him.

Your cries probably had been heard through the whole penthouse, and you were silently thankful that you had given your housekeeper the night off. You made a mental note to take of the sheets tomorrow.

Riding out your orgasm and Namjoon came. He stayed in you for a moment to recover before pulling out. The feeling was bittersweet. He moved climbing into the bed as he pulled you to him. “I missed you (y/n), so fucking much.” He said putting his nose into your hair. “I love you.” He spoke softly.

“I love you too Joonie.” You said softly before you both passed out.

—

1 month later.

You sat in the doctors office waiting as you sat in the gown. You had taken multiple tests and all of them, except two, had come out negative. You were confused. You and Namjoon had been going at it like rabbits and only two tests came out with plus signs.

Jimin shuffled in the chair next to you. You were going to ask Namjoon to come, but you hadn’t told him about any of the tests because you didn’t want to disappoint him. “What if you’re not..you know..?” Jimin asked as you internally groaned. Maybe you should’ve asked Namjoon to come with.

“That’s why I’m here Jimin. To get a finalized answer.” You replied. Before Jimin got another word out, there was a knock. The doctor stepped in and she gave a bright white toothed smile. “Are you (y/n)?” She asked and you nodded. “That’s me.”

“And is this the father?” She asked shaking Jimin’s hand. He chuckled and shook his head. “No ma’am, I’m just here for emotional support.” He told her and she nodded. “Of course. Well, the results came in from the test. It came up positive.” She said happily and that made your heart beat quicken.

“Really?” You asked practically falling off the small bed and she laughed. “I’m sorry, it’s just, all of my other tests came out negative except too. I thought maybe the two positives were possibly false.” You explained and she nodded. “Of course. Lucky for you, all of our tests are 98% accurate, so you should have a healthy baby in you.”

Your stomach burst into butterflies. Before we begin, I just need you to fill out this paperwork which just states you’re okay with the ultrasound.” She explained. You nodded taking the papers and reading them quickly over before signing.

She took the clipboard back as she set it down slipping on her gloves. “Alright, I’m going to apply some gel to your lower stomach area. It’s going to feel a bit cold.” She warned you. You took a deep breath as she rolled up the gown a bit before applying the gel. Your body jumped in response and you felt your cheeks turn red. “I’m sorry.” You apologized and the doctor chuckled. “It’s a normal response, don’t apologize.” She said lightly.

She took the probe and began running it over where she put the gel. You watched the monitor and saw nothing but basically grey. The doctor searched and finally landed on something. “Ah, there you are.” She said softly as you looked at the screen. “Where?” You asked as she looked at you then back to the screen. “Well, this little bean right here is your baby.” She said leaning forward touching the area of where the baby was sitting.

You felt your stomach drop. Holy shit. It was a little bean.

Jimin leaned forward scaring you a little since you had basically forgotten he was in the room. “Holy cow (y/n). You really are pregnant.” He said taking your hand and you squeezed. You all watched the monitor as the bean sat there minding it’s own business.

When it was finished, you cleaned up the gel and got dressed. The doctor had went to print the pictures and you were in complete awe. You were pregnant. Not only were you pregnant, you were pregnant with Namjoon’s child.

Jimin looked at you before asking, “Are you okay? You look like you might be sick.”

You chuckled softly shaking your head. “No, I’m okay. I’m just shocked. I really was scared that I might not be pregnant.” You told him honestly and he nodded. “Really (y/n), congratulations. You and Joon are going to be great parents.” He said touching your shoulder. You hugged him happily.

You just wondered how you were going to tell Namjoon.

—

When you arrived back home, Namjoon was nowhere to be found. You had heard some music playing from his little studio he had made and went to see him. He was working on making a new track and you didn’t want to mess with him. Even if he wasn’t in a band anymore, he still had work for do. He was still an artist and loved to write lyrics. You knew he would either collaborate on songs, or sell the ones he wrote.

You snuck back down the hallway and headed to your room. You set the bag of stuff down that you had grabbed on your way home and took a deep breath. Placing a small hand on your stomach, you smiled.

Pregnant.

You were actually carrying a child. You took out the small box and placed the baby onesie inside and the picture on top of it. You closed it and tied the bow neatly. You went to your bedside table grabbing a pen and grabbing the card you began to write.

“The only thing better than having you as my husband is..

Having you as the father of our child.

Baby Kim due in 9 months.”

You clicked the cap shut on the pen and took some tape before taping the small card to the box. You walked back down to the hall where you heard the music still going. You knew it would be a little but before Namjoon found the box outside of his door, but you were just happy to be able to tell him in some way.

You had just finished showering up. You pulled your towel around you before sliding the door open. You didn’t heard the music playing anymore but you didn’t think much of it. He was probably writing anyway. You walked to your bedroom as you stopped seeing Namjoon sitting on the bed with the box in his hands. Your heart was pounding.

“Joonie?” You said softly as he looked up. “Is it true?” He asked as he looked at you. You bit the bottom of your lip as you nodded. “It’s true.” You said softly. He set the box down before standing up and walking towards you. “You’re really pregnant?” He asked almost in disbelief but it was more shock and happiness mixed into one. You nodded again and he pulled you to him.

“I’m really going to be a father?” He asked you and you slightly chuckled. “That is what you wanted isn’t it?” You teased. He moved to look at you and nodded. “More than anything in the world.”

You saw the look in his eyes and before you could react, his lips were on yours. The heat between you two picked up quickly and you were on the bed. He didn’t hesitate with his pants before spreading your legs and entering you.

Your groaned as you felt him fill and stretch you. “Namjoon..” You panted as he thrusted into you. “You’re all mine baby.” He smirked at you. And you were, you were always his. From day one you had always known that this man...

Was the love of your life.

—

2 years later.

You were sitting on the floor with your son, Ian. He was attempting to walk on his newly found legs that he didn’t know he had. It made you giggle as he used something to balance on. He had a good mop of brown hair on his head but he had his fathers eyes. He squealed in excitement as he balanced. “Come here love!” You called to him as he squealed again.

He didn’t take more than a step before falling into his butt. It made you laugh as he stood up walking over to him. “Come here love, lets get you something to eat.” You took him to the kitchen placing him in his high chair. “Pears or bananas?” You asked him as he happily patted on the small table in front of him.

You nodded. “Bananas it is.” You agreed with the nonexistent answer that your son gave you. You had just finished grabbing the food as you felt movement in your stomach. “Hello princess.” You said placing your hand on your stomach. Six months pregnant with your second child, you couldn’t be happier.

You sat down to feed your son as the front door opened. “I’m home!” Namjoon sang which made you and your son laugh. “Da!” Ian squealed as you looked at him. “He’s home!” You said as Namjoon walked into the kitchen.

“There you three are. I thought maybe you guys had left me.” He smirked as Ian reached out for his father. Namjoon walked over picking him up as he ticked Ian’s stomach which sent him into a fit of laughter. Your heart was warm for the pair. They were bonded and it was obvious Ian would learn to be just like his father. He set him back down as Namjoon kissed you softly. “And how are my two favorite girls?” He asked placing a hand on your stomach. “She’s active today.” You told him as he smiled. “Three more months and we’ll finally get to meet her.” He said happily.

You nodded. “I can’t wait. Hopefully she won’t be as rambunctious as the little one over there.” You laughed as Ian was making a messy display of his banana food. “Well would you look at that! You’ve made quite a mess little one!” Namjoon chuckled grabbing a wet cloth to clean him up.

He walked over to Ian as he started wiping off his face. “How cute that you would act like just your dad when it comes to food. Messy.” Namjoon chuckled.

“Then it’s a good thing that you are the father.”

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san-station · 5 years ago

Text

A Quiet Place AU / ATEEZ (Post-apocalyptic)

Chapter 1

↝Word count: 1772

Description: In a world full of silence and dangerous creatures seeking for blood, a group of friends have to survive for their own good and find the safe place they’ve heard about months ago.

Pairing: OC x San.

Note: This story is entirely fictional. The written universe is an adaptation of John Krasinski’s movie A Quiet Place, some terms or actions may or may not be included in the film.

WARNING: The followed story contains descriptions of violence, explicit wounds, mention of blood, death, depression. If you are easily disturbed, please, stop reading for you own good.

A/N: Hiiii, this is my first serie ever. I hope you like the beginning~! Sorry if there are some typos. Don't be shy, comment what you think about it ;3.

・・・・・・・・

Watch Your Steps

We had to rush, except none of us moved, our feet glued to the cement as if it was still fresh. We knew we had to run but again, none of us could assimilate it. The sound that lasted a millisecond wasn’t even the loudest, however they could hear the smallest chirp of a cricket in the deepest forest, the purring of a cat under a lot of sheets or the yawn of a baby before going to bed as silent as the wind blowing slowly… No matter if we were on the top of the skyscraper, they always heard.

It hit my shocked face when the growls started. I was tired, thirsty, my legs hurt and I hadn’t eaten a proper food in forever; who would’ve thought that a fucking pile of beer bottles hidden behind the door of a small bird house located on one of the rooftop’s corners could ruined three months of surviving the craziest era humanity ever lived. Once the bottles stopped rolling through the wooden floor, my lungs felt fire due to the air I retained, my hands started to shake inside my coat... and it hit me again. We need to fucking run, was the only thing on my mind, but I was not being the reasonable person I was, the common sense was off the place and so were my hopes.

Since I was a child, I thought heights were the scariest thing in the world. The moment I stepped into the rooftop I was already hyperventilating, but it couldn’t compare to the feeling of being chased by those bloodthirsty creatures, and I knew I wasn’t the only one thinking about that, of course. The two people with me had the same expression on their faces. Seonghwa, the guy on my right, tall, blue eyes, body shaped, black hair and paternal instinct, looked at me with wide eyes; he quickly put a hand over my mouth and shook his head violently, words couldn’t be exchanged at that moment, not when we were that close to be slaughter, but his eyes could tell everything. Don’t scream.

In front of us was Misuk, a small and chubby girl with a fearsome attitude who happened to be the other only girl that was stuck with us. She had short blonde hair and the most amusing personality ever (at least for me). She was the one that opened the door nonchalant trying to find bird seed... Oh, I can tell she was really mad at herself; Misuk was the one telling us to be more careful every step we made (even though we knew), and she always put sand or wet dirt on the places where there was none to prevent any of us from stepping on false. Oh, Misuk…

My body began to feel numb and the cold wind wasn’t helping either. Seonghwa’s black hair danced with the breeze along with his clothes, he was wearing a long beige sheep coat that Yunho had made two months ago, skinny black jeans with ripped knees, sneakers too dirty to remember their original color because of the lack of water and a sharp knife on his leather black belt. The handle of it had his initials, “P.S”, engraved in silver with a lovely handwriting. Misuk had her natural outfit when we had to go scavenging for supplies, a pair of worn blue jeans, old black Converses, a brown t-shirt with the logo of NASA and a big black jean jacket with some alien patches. Funny, she loved those things before they arrived, after realizing that she actually liked the little friendly green buddies like E.T instead of the monsters that came to Earth. Well, after a while she found another affinity: collecting some alien fragments from their dead bodies for her own pleasure.

Misuk was a weird kid, but everyone liked her in their own way. I, for example, used to have some discussions about provisions or night shifts with her ‘cause of her lack of leadership and consciousness; I always preferred order, and everything had to be calculated, at least in this madness. But she was a free spirit, she never listened when Seonghwa or Hongjoong made a statement about her, she never cleaned when it was her turn, she sometimes laughed way too loud on our soundproof room and got all of us shhhing her,… but you gotta stick together in this if you want to survive.

Thirty minutes ago we were on the crusade to find more supplies for the rest of the group, it was the calm day #438 after the attack, creatures with hypersensitive hearing showed up on Earth after a meteor shower impacted in December of 2020. We head through the city once the sunrise illuminated the area. Seonghwa, Misuk and I were the assigned crew for the task of recollecting provisions for, at least, two long months. Well, we assigned ourselves because we’d been in those walls for like forever. San was pissed about it, but we didn’t care… now I think it was not a good idea after all.

“Jiyeong,” Misuk called me with sign language when she stopped walking in the middle of the deserted road that connected our place with the city ruins we were heading to. Misuk’s hands followed a sequence while moving her lips simultaneously, “we should split to find more rations by ourselves, right?”, she shifted her bag from one shoulder to another and gave me a bright smile.

I hesitated. The last time we splitted up, we never found Jin, he was Misuk's brother and a friend to all of us. Hongjoong still blamed himself for allowing that option for starters.

“I think it’s better for the three of us to stay together…”, Seonghwa signed with his hands covered by brown leather gloves thanks to the cold air that surrounded most of the city in late February. We both nodded in agreement, not before Misuk rolled her eyes at him and kept walking over the scattered sand that created a path of silence down our bared feet.

The city was an hour left on foot, people obviously forgot about the cars after the sound of the engine roaring was too loud and mortal for all of us. Step by step we got closer and the city buildings risen before us; sometimes (more than we needed) we found other individuals on the streets doing the same we’d been doing for months: surviving. On good days, we found families or old friends walking silently and moving on from their houses to others. On bad days -not my favorite ones to be honest- there were suicidal types of people that transformed the atmosphere completely just to put everyone around in danger. It wasn’t funny running or hiding for your life when you did nothing for them to come for you… I disgusted those kinds of people that believed they could choose who lives and who dies. Moreover, there were days when nothing happened, like almost these three months that we stayed underground with enough supplies in our soundproof room that allowed us to speak when we needed the most, we just went outside to find more provisions or walk and watch the sunset; but nothing last forever, supplies were almost running out and we had to finally get more.

The rooftop we ended up praying for our lives was our last searching point, Misuk wanted the bird seeds so much that she insisted on going all by herself after two long hours, she said we were slowing her down, however you couldn’t be alone out there. Not when they could hear you anytime.

I could listen my thumping heart on my ears; the growling became louder, closer, and the unpleasant feeling in my stomach gave me nauseous. Seonghwa stared now at Misuk; she had a deadpan face and decided to close the bird house slowly with her right hand while her left hand rested on her mouth for preventing her of letting out a gasp. I shook my head. Just leave it like that!, I wanted to scream at her. But when the beer bottles rolled again and collided with a seed bag inside the little house, it felt dry on the floor with the most horrendous echoing sound. I swallow hard, my head hurt and the shrill shout that came from the rooftop door activated all my senses. My brain proceeded to watch everything in front of me as if it was on slow-motion.

One creature broke the door with a clean slam, a second one followed its entrance. Their knife-hands cut the metal with a perfect precision and distant howls filled the place when one of them jumped higher that a human being could ever do. My shaky breath was held by Seonghwa’s hands when I stepped back, my fingers reached his owns and I squeezed them as tight as I could against my mouth. Misuk turned around as fast as she could when the hand of one creature slammed into her stomach in within seconds, the deafening sound of her ribs breaking made the tears instantly fall down from my cheeks to Seonghwa’s gloves, she gasped. The sore flesh was vividly cut and her eyes, wide and green, looked to the sky while her body jerked on the floor with a thump. The enormous hollow in the center of her belly straight away scattered overflowing blood all over the floor, and the rest of her body rested on the cement, still she found a way to turn her head into our direction and gave us a sad smile. Red drops were now on our clothes and faces, some of her large intestine and lungs were being eaten by both creatures making grumbling noises. It looked like they were having a Thanksgiving meal and we were probably the desert.

Then, a creatures pulled up its head and the sides of it was wide open as we saw the sound sensors vibrating, trying to reach for more victims nearby. Seonghwa and I could only watch the scene petrified. A tiny groan left Misuk’s throat with her last breath and I gasped in silence while my soaked eyes blurred part of the view, the ripping sounds of bones and flesh continued and I felt Seonghwa’s chest shake a little on my back, but he kept his head high aware of the beasts in front of us. I don’t know if he closed his eyes, I just know we stood there still watching our friend die and hoping we wouldn’t be next.

(…)

Masterlist

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suits · 5 years ago

Text

closer to fine.

Can be read here on ao3

Words: 7.3k, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Relationship: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Fandom: IT 2017, IT 2019

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Temporary Amnesia, Post-Break Up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Richie gets his heart broken on a Thursday.

Richie gets his heart broken on a Thursday. He can’t even say he’s surprised. Confused, maybe. Definitely dejected. But not surprised. He's always had a hard time holding on to the good things in his life, so why should Eddie be any different? That doesn't make it hurt any less, though.

He wishes he could say it starts out like any other day, but something like dread makes a home somewhere deep in his chest when he's woken up at noon by two text messages from Eddie.

12:14 - Baby: We need to talk. 12:14 - Baby: Can I come over?

Nobody likes a "we need to talk" text, but cryptic undertones aside, since they started dating all those years ago, Eddie has never once asked for permission to come over.

He tries to brush it off. “It’s probably nothing.” Richie thinks to himself, laughing at his inane ability to jump to the worst possible conclusions, ever. “There’s plenty of shit he could want to talk to me about in person. Maybe he wants a dog, a little Pomeranian or something cute like him, or maybe he wants to move in together, or maybe he’s ready to take our relationship to the next level, or maybe...”

Richie sends back a quick “of course. see u soon” before he forgets, then busies himself with taking a quick shower and making a breakfast smoothie for the two of them.

It's 12:47 when Eddie knocks on his door. Eddie never knocks anymore. Richie gave him a key years ago so that he didn’t have to.

He opens the door warily, stepping back to let Eddie inside. His Eds was wearing a knit cap, and scarf to combat the harsh winds, and Richie was pretty sure that those were mittens on his hands, God his boyfriend was the cutest. “Eds,” Richie greets, going in for a hug and kiss, but Eddie shakes his head, grimacing a little. He steps back to put a little bit of space between himself and Richie.

“Let me start off by saying that I love you.” Eddie mumbles, staring at the carpet.

“Okay?” Richie prompts, confused. His eyes search Eddie’s face. “Eds, come on, my floor isn’t that interesting. Please look at me.”

Eddie does, and his eyes are wet with tears that haven't yet spilled over. ”And I know that you love me,” He continues.

“Yes,” Richie nods emphatically, “more than anything.”

Eddie takes a deep, shuddering breath before soldiering on, “But this isn’t working out anymore. We’re,” He gestures between the two of them “not working out.” He doesn't say much more than that, doesn't try to explain himself. Richie wouldn't have wanted to hear it, anyway. “I’m sorry.”

It's one of the rare occasions that Richie Tozier has nothing to say. He nods slowly, mouth agape, like he wants to speak, but no words will come out.

They spend seconds or minutes, Richie has no idea, just looking at each other. Richie’s eyes were desperate and imploring, Eddie’s, glazed and distant. They're only standing a couple of feet apart but Richie's never felt further away.

Eventually, Richie breaks the silence, gesturing towards his kitchen. “Smoothie?” he offers weakly.

Eddie just looks at him some more. His eyes are sad, but his face is determined. He sighs once, and shakes his head ‘no’ before he turns on his heel and leaves. Richie can only stand there and watch, dumbfounded, as the love of his life walks out of his front door, and out of his life.

”But you love pineapple and spinach.” Richie whispers to the empty room.

He doesn't get a response.

Desolation and depression were old friends of Richie’s; in the sense that even if he could find a way to forget about them, ignore them, avoid them all together, all it took was one bad night and they were back in his life with an intensity like they missed him. They were good to him like that.

“ S' good to me. Than' you.” Richie slurs to his empty bedroom. “I missed you guys, too.”

He might’ve had too much to drink. It's been a while since he drank alcohol, and it's just really hard to keep track of how much you've drank when you’re not actually trying to keep track. The only thing Richie knows for sure right now is that he needs a lot more alcohol to make it through the night.

Richie checks his phone for the time, ignoring the unopened text alerts he’s been getting for the last two and a half weeks it’s been since Eddie dumped his ass out of the blue. It reads 1:17am, which means that he has about forty minutes until the dive bar closest to his place starts locking up.

It's a 15 minute walk, but he makes it there in 10.

“Richard.” His bartender (and sorta friend) Monty greets him when he stumbles through the door, limbs awkward and uncoordinated. “This is the fifth time I'm seeing you in as many days... and you look worse every single time I lay eyes on you. Anything you want to talk to me about? I can have this place cleared out in five minutes flat, just say the word.” A couple of people in the bar look up at that, but he pays them no mind.

Richie's touched. If he wasn't so fucking drunk already, he would've sat down and had a heart to heart with Monty about how the man he thought he’d marry someday just up and fucking walked out on him. But alas.

“Monty...Montague...Mont Everest... Mont-pel-er... You know like the capital of Virginia?”

“Vermont, but continue.” Monty corrects playfully, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“You say potato. Anyway, as much as I'd love to wax poetic about the five foot six inch cutie that broke my heart, I'd much rather forget that the last two weeks of my life even happened. What’ve you got for that?”

“Prayers, Richie. Lots and lots of prayers. But in the meantime,” he slides two glasses filled with something brown and strong towards Richie.

Had Richie not been such a fuck up, he never would’ve went to the bar that night. Had Richie not been so goddamn stupid, he probably would’ve noticed the group of men lurking in the alleyway across the street early enough to avoid them.

Had the alcohol not effected his judgement and sense of self-preservation, he wouldn’t have felt so tough, he wouldn’t have opened his mouth, he wouldn’t have started that fight.

Had Richie Tozier not been Richie Tozier for once in his life, he wouldn’t be laying on his back in a barely lit alley at 2:30 in the morning with at least a couple of cracked ribs, a possible punctured lung, and a head injury that was bleeding steadily.

Richie doesn't bother calling for help, wouldn’t be able to get the words out anyway.

He can't help thinking that if this is it for him, then there are worse ways to go.

“Worse than bleeding out in alley surrounded by trash and piss and shit and God knows what else? Richie that's disgusting.” a familiar voice in his head reprimands.

“Chill... Edward...Cullen,” Richie rasps, wincing in pain. It’s the last thing he remembers before the darkness overtook him.

Eddie makes the biggest mistake of his life on a Thursday. He never should’ve picked up his phone and texted Richie that morning, stressed off his ass, and mad at the world. He shouldn’t have put on his stupid coat, or got in his stupid car, waited in stupid traffic, to show up at boyfriend’s apartment to break up with him. And for what? Because Eddie was feeling insecure about how Richie felt about him? Because Eddie was worried (for whatever fucking reason) that Richie would get tired of him? He feels so fucking stupid.

People always assumed that Richie was the impulsive one in their relationship, acting before reacting. But Eddie knew firsthand that Richie is, and always has been, more calculated and levelheaded than he could ever dream of being. It took a lot to get Richie riled up, especially since he’d stopped drinking, but Eddie was constantly on a short fuse.

“Such a little ball of fury, you are.” Richie would tell him, pinching his cheeks. “Not enough room in your body to hold all your anger, Eds. So cute.”

“I’m not a little ball of fury and I'm not fucking cute, Richie!” He would yell back. And Richie would just smile at him like Eddie had just proved his point.

Eddie misses him the second he walks out of the door.

He decides to call Bill when he gets to his car.

"Hey Eddie, what's up?" His best friend greets, and the words come pouring out before Eddie has a chance to stop them. He talks until he's out of breath, and then he talks some more. He would've kept talking, too, if—

“I’m sorry,” Bill interrupts, “I must’ve misheard. You did what?”

“I broke up with Richie.” Eddie repeats, irritated.

“That son of a bitch—did he hurt you? Do you need me to—” But Eddie nips that one in the bud real quick.

“No, Bill, he didn’t hurt me. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Bill’s voice sounds confused, “Then why?”

Because I’m a mess with chronic anxiety and self esteem issues and twenty-four years worth of emotional baggage and Richie deserves so much better than me? He thinks but doesn’t say.

“I don’t know, Billy. I really fucked up this time.”

Bill doesn't agree nor disagree with that statement. Instead he says, “It’s okay. You just need to figure yourself out, Eddie. Take some time to think about what you want, that's the most important thing. You have to be your first priority, or you'll never really be happy.”

“How’d you get so smart, huh, Big Bill?” Eddie asks, genuinely grateful that he has such a patient and protective best friend.

“Someone in this group has to be.” He chuckles, and Eddie curses him playfully.

They talk for a little while longer; about school, and work, and Bill’s upcoming date with Stan. After saying their goodbyes, Eddie's surprised to see that he feels a little bit better.

Bill's right; Eddie needs to figure himself out, get his head right. He knows it's gonna take a long time but he owes it to himself (and hopefully, someday again, to Richie) to be the best version of himself.

After a couple of days of moping and self-pity, things are starting to look up for Eddie. He isn’t necessarily enjoying “single life” but he's beginning to relish spending time on himself. He even takes a couple of days off from work to focus on his self care. He buys ginger tea and detoxifying face-masks and everything.

It's been two weeks and three days since their break up when a call wakes Eddie up out of a restless sleep.

“What?” he grouses at the unknown heathen who likes to call people at — he squints at his phone screen — 4:16 in the morning.

“Edward Kaspbrak?” A female voice intones.

“Speaking. Who is this?” He asks, immediately more alert.

“Marianne Nelson from Silver Lakes Hospital. There’s been an accident involving a Richard Tozier, and he has you listed as his emergency contact. How soon can you be here?”

Gays can’t drive, my ass Eddie thought as he pulls into a parking spot. He makes it to the hospital in record time and barely breaks any traffic laws to get there. No use to Richie if we both end up in the ER, he reminds himself.

Let it be known that Eddie Kaspbrak hates hospitals. Has ever since he was a kid. It's 100% due to the fact that his mother made him spend more time in emergency rooms and clinics than he did at school or with his friends.

That’s all behind him, though, at least for the moment, because the only thing on his mind right now is getting to Richie quick as possible. Marianne wouldn’t tell him anything over the phone, so he's completely in the dark, has no idea what kind of condition Richie is in.

“Edward Kaspbrak.” He announces when he reaches the receptionist's desk. “I’m here to see Richie Tozier. He’s my b—” Eddie cuts himself off. “I’m his emergency contact.” After his identification is verified, the receptionist politely gives him directions to Richie’s room.

Eddie doesn't exactly jog there, but it's a close thing.

He’s seen Richie sleeping in the past, countless times, but he's never looked so small before. And so pale. Richie's hooked up to all types of IVs and machines, he has cuts and bruises littering his face, and part of his head is shaved—but despite it all, he still looks very much like the boy that Eddie fell in love with so many years ago. He'd be reminiscing if he weren't so fucking scared.

“You can go in.” Calls a kind voice from behind him. Eddie nods without even looking to see who the voice belongs to, before he steps into the room and shuts the door softly behind him.

Eddie’s heart was going to beat out of his chest. Is that even possible? He thinks hysterically, then laughs a little, completely on edge. At least I’m in a hospital and they’ll be able to fix me right up. Good as new.

He makes himself as comfortable as possible, folding like a pretzel in the hospital chair. The room has magazines and a TV—for entertainment or distraction, he isn't sure—and there's coffee right outside the door if he needs it, but Eddie isn't planning on leaving any time soon. He stares at Richie’s sleeping face and hopes to God that he's resting well. “I’ll stay with you forever if you’ll let me." Eddie says, barely loud enough to be heard over the ventilators. “I'm so sorry, I won’t ever leave you again.”

He doesn’t get a response.

The first time Richie wakes up, he notices the lights. Too much, too bright, he thinks. They make his eyes sting and his head hurt, but he's out again before he can say anything about it.

The second time, Richie's more alert. He hears the steady beeping of machinery, smells the overpowering scent of clean, sterile. He can’t turn his head, though, can’t get his eyes to focus on anything, and before he knows it, they're fluttering shut again without his permission.

The third time Richie wakes up, there are big, brown eyes peering down at him. He recognizes those eyes before he can focus on the face they belong to. Eddie. Those heavenly brown eyes blink in surprise before they disappear from his line of sight. Richie vaguely hears yelling, but he can’t make out the words.

Next thing he knew, there're people all around him, nurses and various hospital personnel writing things down, and poking and prodding at him.

“Richard,” a voice that isn’t Eddie’s calls, “You won’t be able to talk just yet, but blink twice if you can hear me.”

Richie blinks twice, confused.

“Good to have you back with us, Richard. Do you know where you are? Blink once for no, twice for yes.”

Richie blinks once.

“You’re in the hospital. I’m Doctor Hasaan. You got pretty banged up the other night, but we’re going to take care of you. You’ve got some broken ribs, a subsequent punctured lung, and a pretty nasty concussion. Do you remember what happened?”

Richie blinks once.

“There was an accident, Richard. A pedestrian found you in an alleyway downtown, and called 911. I’m not surprised you don’t remember any of it, you hit your head pretty hard and your blood alcohol level was high when you were brought in." And that can't be right, Richie hasn't drank in years.

"Are you in any pain right now?” Dr. Hasaan questions.

It’s almost as if his question brings all of Richie’s sensory neurons back to life, and he's only just began to notice the aching pain in his head, throat, and chest.

Richie blinks twice.

“Alrighty.” The good doctor says, “We’ll give you something to help with that.” One of the nurses puts something in his IV. “Try to rest, Richard. We’ll have that tube out of your throat in no time, and you’ll feel much better once you can breathe properly on your own. Is there anything we can get for you right now? To make you more comfortable?”

Eddie, he thinks, bring him back in.

Richie tries to blink twice but his eyelids are so heavy, and then, in the blink of an eye, he's asleep again.

Richie wakes up with a start. His chest is tight and his throat is on fire and he can’t fucking breathe. He feels like he's drowning. Is he dying? Richie weakly struggles for a minute with the IV in his hand before a soft hand on his arm stops him.

“Richie, calm down.” Comes an angelic voice. He knows that voice. He loves that voice. “You’re panicking, it’s okay, baby.” The angel soothes.

Delicate hands hover around Richie’s face like they want to caress him, but are too afraid. God, what he wouldn’t give to have those hands on his face.

It takes him a second, but Richie is eventually able to come back to himself, focus his eyes on the man standing beside him, focus his ears on the steady beeping and mechanical breathing of the machines surrounding him.

He carefully reaches one trembling hand up to his mouth, onto the uncomfortable tube that was forced down his throat. Eddie gently slaps his hand away from his face.

“Don’t touch it, Richie. Relax, okay? Let me see if I can get your doctor in here.”

A couple of minutes pass before Eddie comes back into the room, smiling widely, while Dr. Hasaan follows a few paces behind him.

“Richard,” greets the doctor when he walks in, “Great news. We’re on pace to get you extubated today. I’m sure that thing must be bothering you, huh? The ventilator’s providing minimal support now, so most of that breathing is all you, kiddo."

Richie gives two shaky thumbs-ups, careful not to jostle the I.V. too much, lest he upset Eddie again.

It's got to be the most uncomfortable moment of Richie Tozier’s existence. The process doesn't take more than a minute or two, but there's a lot of choking, gagging, and saliva sucking—and not even in the fun way. Once the tube is out, though, Richie only feels relief. And a little sore.

“It’s all done, Richard, you did great.” The doctor praises, as he discards some tools onto the table beside him. “Hold still now, I’m going to insert an intranasal cannula, just to be safe...”

Richie lets the doctor do doctorly things while he lets his eyes roam around the room. They settle on Eddie, who’s been hovering anxiously on the other side of the bed. He's wearing a too big hoodie and a pair of skinny jeans. His hair is curly and unkempt, so unlike Eddie. His face looks relieved, but his eyes are so tired. So sweet staying here with me, Richie thinks.

“Alright. Why don’t you try and say a few words for me? It might be uncomfortable at first, but the more you work at it the easier it’ll get.” Dr. Hassan states reassuringly.

“Just like...the first time...I gave you... sloppy top...right, Eds?” Richie croaks, then he threw a wink in his boyfriend’s direction.

Eddie’s face twists in a strange combination of horrified amusement. He looks like he wants to laugh—or maybe cry—but instead he just purses his lips together and shakes his head. Richie grins back.

The doctor rolls his eyes and asks if Richie felt up to answering a few procedural questions.

"What's your full name?"

"Richard Tozier."

"What year is it?"

"2019."

"Who's the president of the United States?"

"I know...but don't make me say it."

“Excellent, Mr. Tozier," Dr. Hasaan chuckles, "you’re well on your way to health. Your lung and ribs should heal on their own in a couple of weeks, but there's no reason for us to hold you hostage here any longer. Your short term memory should come back to you gradually. You're set to be discharged no later than tomorrow afternoon. Because of the severity of your concussion, however, I'm going to ask that you have another adult at your home to monitor you for 48 hours."

"No problem, doc... I got my... Eddie Spaghetti to take care of me." Richie smiles as wide as he can without his lips cracking due to lack of hydration.

He doesn't notice the way Eddie's eyes shift guiltily to the floor.

Eddie might've been driving too cautiously.

"Eds...I know you're worried...but you might actually...be driving in reverse." Richie complains as another car speeds past them.

Eddie ignores him and grips the wheel tighter. I've hurt you enough already, I can't do that to you again Eddie thinks. What he says is, "Yeah, and if I speed up and hit a pothole and your stupid ribs slip and puncture your stupid lung again, then you'll be mad at me."

Richie laughs, but it's bitten off like it hurt him, and Eddie winces. "My Eds...always...so damn dramatic."

They spend the rest of the car ride in relative silence, save for the quiet humming of the radio, and Richie's occasional labored breathing.

"Oh, fuck." Richie voices miserably when they arrive at his complex.

"What?" Eddie asks, worried. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm okay, Eds." Richie reassures, "I just remembered...that I live on the third floor."

Oh, fuck.

"I'm not carrying you up three flights of stairs because your landlord is too cheap to get the elevator fixed." Eddie says, mostly serious.

"You couldn't...carry me up those stairs...to save both of our lives...Spaghetti head." Richie jokes, "Come on...little man...we've got some...climbing to do."

Eddie might not've had asthma when he was younger, but it sure as fuck felt like he did now.

Carrying their bags and about 30% of Richie's body weight feels like a workout, but he feels guilty almost instantaneously when he hears Richie struggling to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry, baby." Eddie says, forgetting himself for a moment. He rubs his hands up and down Richie's back soothingly. "You okay?"

"Fine, Eds. Let's keep...going."

They make their way down the hall to Richie's door, where Eddie reaches under the "did you call first?" welcome mat to retrieve the spare key Richie keeps hidden there.

"Where's yours at...Eds? Need me to...get a new one made?" Richie asks, gesturing to the spare key in his hand, and Eddie blanches.

"No? No, I just left mine at my place. I'm an idiot." He lies, and Richie just looks at him kind of odd.

"That you are...Spaghetti Head."

Once they're inside, Eddie helps Richie settle comfortably onto the couch, before going to Richie's bedroom to drop off his bag.

"Bring me...my heating pad, please, Eds?" Richie calls with some difficulty.

"Yeah, sure, Rich!" Eddie calls back, but when he steps into Richie's bedroom, his heart hits the floor.

Now, Richie isn't the tidiest person alive, so Eddie's used to picking up after him a bit; sometimes folding his laundry, but it's never been like this before. There are empty bottles of alcohol littering his floor, half-empty food containers left open, clothes thrown haphazardly over almost every surface. This, Eddie knows, is what depression looks like for Richie. This is what it looks like when he's given up.

"I did this." He gasps quietly to himself, looking around the room in horror. "I did this."

"Eds?" Comes Richie's worried voice from his position on the couch. "You get lost?"

"Just gimme a minute, Richie!" He snaps, way harsher than he intends. Then much softer, "I'm sorry, babe, please just give me a minute, okay?"

Richie doesn't say anything else, and Eddie pulls himself together long enough to go to the supply closet and retrieve Richie's heating pad.

He hands it to Richie wordlessly, and Richie mutters a quiet "thanks". He looks at Eddie like he's a puzzle to be solved, and Eddie can't take it.

"What do you remember from before?' He asks, avoiding Richie's questioning eyes.

"From when?"

"What's the last thing you remember, Rich? Not... not in the hospital, but before that. What's the last memory you have of--of us together?"

There's a pause, and Eddie can see the gears working in Richie's head.

"Oh, I don't...I can't...um...I don't? The movies?" Richie tries. "We went to see that scary movie you wanted to see. The one...with the clowns." He looks so proud of himself, and Eddie's heart just shatters.

Richie's used to his boyfriend being weird; and usually he loves it, but there's something about the way Eddie's been acting since they left the hospital that has his hackles raised.

"Am I...missing something, Eds?" Other than the obvious, he doesn't add, "What's the matter?"

Eddie still looks crestfallen when he answers. "That was over three weeks ago, Rich."

"Yeah?" He asks, and Eddie nods miserably. "Holy fuck. I mean...we knew that there were...holes in my memory. Doc said...things'll come back on their own." He tries to sound reassuring, but Eddie's still frowning hard.

"Yeah, I know but...that's not...it's just that, um, I don't really, um, and—"

"Woah, dude, are you...having a stroke?" Richie interrupts, and Eddie puts his head in his hands and sighs.

"God, shut the fuck up, Richie, this is really hard."

Richie bites his tongue. "What's hard, baby? What's got you...so upset? Eds...whatever it is...it's okay. Talk to me."

"It's us, I mean, you and me, we're um," a pause, "we'renottogetheranymore." He finishes quickly.

That's a silly thing to say, Richie thinks. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Eddie starts, "that you and I aren't together anymore. We're broken up."

The sharp pain in Richie's chest has nothing to do with his broken ribs.

"I broke up with you?" He asks dejectedly, "Eds, I'm—" but Eddie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

"No, Richie, I broke up with you."

And there it is. Richie feels it like a punch to the solar plexus. Thats why Eddie's been acting so strange, keeping something like this from him.

"I don't...why?" He demands, chest aching to keep up with the heavy pounding of his heart.

"It doesn't matter, I should've never done it, I'm sorry—"

"It fucking matters!" Richie explodes. With great difficulty, he stands up off of the couch—wincing in pain during the process—so that he's looming over Eddie. "It matters." He tries again.

Eddie just stares up at him from his spot on the sofa. He shakes his head 'no', like he's resolved on keeping his mouth shut, and the anger is drained from Richie as quickly as it came.

"Why are you...here, Eddie?" He asks, exhaustedly. Just Eddie this time. Not Eds, not baby, just Eddie.

"Because you're hurt, and I need to make sure you're okay, and I—"

"Let me...guess. You feel...guilty?" Richie laughs mirthlessly. "Get out."

"No, Rich, c'mon, I'm here to help you."

"Just, go, Eddie. I'm going to go...take a very careful shower...and by the time...I get out...I want you...out of here."

"Rich—"

"Out, Eddie."

He walks carefully to the bathroom without waiting for a response.

Eddie doesn't leave. Fuck that, he thinks. Instead, he takes on the harrowing task of cleaning Richie's bedroom which he's labeled "The Depression Den" in his head. He starts with the clothes: grabbing piles and piles from the floor and Richie's bed and discarding them into their respective hampers. Once he's done with that, he takes care of the disposable trash; putting everything into bags that'll need to be tossed sooner rather than later. Lastly, he works on the beer cans, and liquor pints that are scattered all around the room. God, Richie must've really been on a bender. Eddie swallows his guilt for the time being and gets to working on separating glass from aluminum to recycle.

The shower's still running by the time Richie's room looks presentable. Eddie carefully, quietly places his ear up to the door. He can hear Richie humming softly and takes that as a sign that he's okay in there.

He makes his way to the kitchen to rummage through Richie's cabinets, trying to find something to cook for them, but Richie's cupboards and refrigerator are bare and depressing looking.

Take out doesn't sound so bad, Eddie thinks.

He's just getting off the phone with the Thai place when Richie comes into the living room

"You're still here." Richie croaks. His skin is still pink from his shower, and he's wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of Spiderman boxers. He's still a head taller than Eddie, but he looks so small, so young.

"Yeah, Rich, I know you're upset, and I understand its a lot, and I'm s—"

"You're still here...you didn't leave." Richie's voice cracks. "You didn't leave me." He takes a hesitant step towards Eddie, expression vulnerable. And oh, fuck, if Richie starts crying its going to set Eddie off too.

"I promised you I wouldn't." At Richie's confused glance, he elaborates. "When I got the call that you were in the hospital, I was so scared. They wouldn't tell me anything and I-I thought the worst. I thought I'd lost you. But then I went to your room, and you were sleeping. You were cut up and bruised," He eyes the healing bruises across Richie's face, desperately wanting to reach out and touch him "but you were alive. And I thought to myself 'I walked away from the best thing in my life, because I was scared.' Truth is, I didn't know what scared was until I saw you lying there, so still...so pale, machines breathing for you. So that night, I promised myself and you that as long as you'll have me, I'll be here. I won't ever leave you again. As long as I'm welcome in your home, and...and in your life, I'll—"

"Stay."

"What?" Eddie asks, eyes wide.

"Please...even if it's just for tonight...just, stay."

So Eddie does.

Richie does a lot of healing over the next couple of weeks. None of it is easy, but that's to be expected. He gets short tempered, and emotional as his memory clears, which the doctor tells Eddie is a "completely normal response to being concussed," but Eddie thinks it's more than that. Richie slowly begins to ease himself back into daily activities like driving, and grocery shopping for himself, relying on Eddie less and less with each passing day.

Eddie tries not to let that worry him.

It's a fair question, and one that needed to be asked, but it still makes Eddie choke on his coffee when Richie asks "So, why did you break up with me?" one day when they're sitting on the couch, watching TV with the volume down low.

"Um, Richie, I-" Eddie starts, then stops.

"Yeah?" Richie raises his eyebrows expectantly, the tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips.

Eddie sighs. He owes Richie an explanation, he owes him the truth. "I was scared." Okay...so...baby steps.

"Of...?" Richie prompts, impatient now.

"You leaving me? I know it's so stupid, now, but at the time I thought you would get sick of me, and you didn't l—" he cuts himself off but its too late.

He doesn't miss the way Richie inhales sharply, and flinches like Eddie just slapped him.

"You thought I didn't love you?" Richie sounds so lost.

"No! I mean, yes, but no! I know that you loved me, remember? I told you that, and I knew it, it's just that, with my anxiety and everything, uh, it's like my head...was playing tricks on my heart and I had to leave, because if you left me I wouldn't be able to take it. And I know that's not an excuse, and I don't mean for it to be. I just, I never meant to hurt you, I swear. If I could take every word back, I would. I never- I'm so sorry."

"You're so fucking stupid." Is all Richie says, then louder, "God, you're so fucking stupid!"

That's fair, Eddie thinks.

Richie puts his hands on Eddie's shoulders, lowering his head until they're eye level. "I have never. Ever." He punctuates each word with a gentle shake to Eddie's shoulders, "Loved anyone the way that I love you. Not even close."

"Richie, I'm so-" Wait. "Love?"

"Yes!" Richie cries, exasperated. "Love, dummy. I love you! I never stopped loving you. Even when I was drowning myself in a bottle," It's Eddie's turn to feel like he just got slapped. "All I could think about was you. You, Eds. You're it for me, I think."

Eddie freezes, feels the tears well in his eyes before he can do anything about it. "You called me Eds." He cries, tearfully.

Richie grins in triumph. "I knew you fucking liked my nicknames!"

"God, I missed this." Richie moans in between kisses. He's got Eddie pinned down on his bed, breathless and panting beneath him.

"Richie, please." Eddie whimpers.

"Please what, baby?" He teases. "You want something from me, you ask for it."

Eddie squirms underneath him, dick already hard and leaking. "Please fuck me. Need it, need you." And Richie groans, grinding his hips down hard, eliciting a shaky moan from Eddie.

"Mmm, not yet, baby. Gonna take care of you. I'm gonna worship every inch of you."

Richie takes his time taking Eddie apart, finding all the spots that drive him crazy, and playing with them until Eddie's a writhing mess underneath him.

"Alright, Eds. Face down, ass up. C'mon chop, chop."

Eddie opens his mouth like he's about to retort—probably to tell Richie to stop ruining the mood or something—before he thinks better of it. He does as he's told, stripping down completely naked before laying face down on the mattress.

Richie hums in approval, kisses his way down Eddie's shoulders, along his spine, feels the tremors that are coursing through him.

"Please, Richie, I need more" Eddie whines, rocking his hips back.

"I know what you need, Eds. Let me give it to you, okay? Gonna make you come so hard. On my tongue and fingers, then on my dick, okay? You just gotta take it." He says it casually, like he's discussing the weather, and not taking Eddie apart piece by piece.

Eddie just whines again, and Richie smirks before he flattens his tongue, licking over Eddie in broad strokes before pressing his tongue inside. Eddie nearly shouts, hole fluttering around Richie's tongue.

There's nothing particularly romantic about the way Richie eats him out. It's wet, and sloppy, and Richie's got spit dripping down his chin as he licks into Eddie until Eddie's trembling at the intensity of it.

When Eddie's whines start getting high and needy, Richie takes pity on him, adding a finger in alongside his tongue, and Eddie groans appreciatively, fucking himself back onto Richie until he adds another.

When Richie crooks his fingers purposefully, searching out Eddie’s prostate, Eddie whimpers pitifully and tries to shift away. “Richie, please…” he begs, but Richie just pulls his mouth away and shushes him, keeping his fingers deep inside.

Richie knows Eddie simultaneously loves and hates getting his prostate fucked. Hates how vulnerable it makes him feel, how it leaves him shaking and non-verbal, even after he's come. Loves it for the exact same reasons.

“Relax, baby,” Richie soothes, placing a comforting hand on Eddie’s hip. "I got you."

Eddie forces himself to relax, and soon enough, he’s whining and sobbing, fingers twisting the sheets, begging Richie for more.

"Good boy." Richie praises. He’s careful when he does this, not exactly gentle, but he doesn’t want to go too fast or hard and overwhelm Eddie, so he keeps his strokes long and purposeful, fingers brushing expertly over Eddie’s prostate. Eddie's hips keep shifting, like he’s not sure if he wants to get away from the sensation or get more of it, so Richie tightens his hand on Eddie's hip, effectively stilling him.

He keeps up his methodical torture for minutes, or hours, or days, before Eddie's granted any reprieve. Even if it weren’t for the almost hysterical whines Eddie’s emitting, the way that he’s clenching around Richie’s fingers, shaking like a leaf, would be enough to alert Richie that he’s close. He keeps Eddie hanging there on the verge of orgasm for a long time, drawing it out of him slowly, so slowly, with precise fingers pressing rhythmically against Eddie’s prostate. “Touch yourself, baby, you’re doing so good, make yourself come.” Richie urges, using his free hand to massage Eddie’s perineum when Eddie brings a shaking hand to his own leaking dick. It’s over pretty quickly after that.

Eddie’s uncharacteristically quiet when he comes, and Richie would be worried if not for the way Eddie’s muscles had locked up so tight before he started trembling something fierce.

Eddie had stayed like that for a few long moments, could do nothing but shake and gasp as his orgasm worked through him in a way that looked almost painful.

When it's over, Eddie drops like a stone onto the mattress, still trembling. Richie's quick to gather him in his arms, rearranging them as best he could so that Richie was against the headboard and Eddie’s head was resting on his chest. That's when he notices the tears tracks running down Eddie's cheeks as the man in question struggles to catch his breath. He runs soothing fingers through Eddie’s hair, waits for him to come back to himself.

"Oh my God," Eddie whispers, moments later, once his soul is back in his body.

"Okay, baby?" Richie asks, genuinely concerned, as he wipes at the tears staining his boyfriend's face.

"More than," Eddie gasps, "It's just a lot."

"Hmmm." Richie hums in agreement. He gives Eddie a couple more minutes to recover before he rearranges them again. This time, with Eddie on his back, legs spread wide around Richie's hips. "I'm not done with you yet."

Eddie looks up at him, eyes wide, and Richie grins. "Told you I was gonna make you come on my dick tonight. You want that, baby?"

Eddie nods enthusiastically, then gasps in shock when he feels Richie's open palm connect with his cheek.

"Use your words, Eddie. You want my dick, then beg me for it."

"Please, Richie, oh my God, please I want your dick, please give it to me, I need it." Eddie's shameless now, past the point of caring what comes out of his mouth.

"That's good, baby. I'll give it to you." Richie says, reaching into his nightstand for the box of condoms they never use anymore.

"Rich...what? Why?" Eddie asks, dubiously eyeing the box in his hand.

"Eds..I..if there was any-" But Eddie cuts him off, head clearer than it's been since they started.

"There was no one else, Rich, I swear, I didn't. You're it for me, too."

"Yeah?" Richie asks, tossing the box somewhere in the corner of his room, smiling down at Eddie.

"Yeah, stupid." Eddie promises, and Richie just has to kiss the grin off his lips.

Richie takes his time pushing in, making sure Eddie feels every inch of him until he bottoms out, hips flush against Eddie.

"Gonna make sure you feel how deep my love goes, baby. Never gonna have to worry again." Richie promises.

"Oh, my God." Eddie whimpers, eyes rolling back as Richie starts to fuck into him slowly.

It's so good, too good, and it's not long before Eddie's hard again. Richie takes notice and doubles his efforts, going from thrusting into Eddie to grinding their hips together, dick a constant pressure against Eddie's prostate. It's too much, too fast, and Eddie damn nears screams.

"Feel good, baby?"

Eddie doesn't respond. Just keeps making these little "ah, ah, ah" sounds like he's about to sneeze. "Oh, fuck, Richie, how are you doing this to me?"

He's crying for real now, taking big, sobbing breaths as his hands frantically grip the pillows, the bedsheets, the headboard, his own hair, anything he can to ground himself against the pleasure that's threatening to overwhelm him completely.

"Don't do that, baby, you'll rip your hair out." Richie chides, dropping to his elbows so that he can detangle Eddie's hands from his hair, and twine their fingers together.

He never once breaks stride, going back to fucking into Eddie deep and slow, each thrust bringing Eddie closer and closer to that point of no return.

And surely Eddie's going to explode. Surely, the human body isn't meant to withstand this kind of pleasure.

"You're so fucking good, Eds." Richie's pace is starting to get falter, tell-tale sign that he's close. "Gonna come for me again?"

Eddie nods senselessly, beyond words. He's pretty sure he's drooling.

"Then do it, Eds. C'mon." And Eddie's right there, so close to the edge, back arching completely off the bed as Richie takes him higher and higher and—

"That's it, baby, you're right there, God, I love you so much, Eddie."

"Say it again." Eddie gasps, fresh tears spilling over.

"I love you." Richie repeats.

"Again."

"I love you."

"Again, again, again!" Eddie shouts as he starts to come, untouched, across his and Richie's bellies.

"I love you, I love you so much, baby." Richie groans, and tumbles over the edge right alongside of him.

Eddie's nervous as Richie drives them to the restaurant; some overpriced Italian place that Mike wants them to meet at. It's not like he and Richie were avoiding the Losers; they still talked on the phone a couple of times a week, but in the light of recent events they had, admittedly, been spending a lot more time with each other. It's been the best and happiest weeks of Eddie's life, and that makes his decision ten times easier.

Months ago, Bill told Eddie to take some time to think about what he wanted.

He picked out a ring that very same day.

What he wants is Richie, always and forever. He's known that for most of his life.

He just hopes that Richie feels the same way.

The ring is heavy in Richie's back pocket as he and Eddie walk into the restaurant that Mike picked out. The rest of the Losers are already there, talking animatedly amongst each other. The conversation stops when they get to the table.

"Well I'll be damned." Mike says, like he didn't expect them to actually show up, he's grinning though, and Richie smiles back.

"Richie Tozier, back from the dead!" Bev exclaims, jumping out of her seat to hug him. He squeezes her tight, lifting her off her feet as he twirls her around. She laughs brightly, and it hits Richie like a brick to the face how much he loves this group of people. How, since they were kids, their little group of outcasts has been his one constant. Something he could always run to.

Bill and Stan smile at him knowingly, and he winks back.

Richie's always had a hard time holding on to the good things in his life, but as he looks around the table at all of his friends, at the man he hopes says yes tonight, Richie finds himself smiling at the realization that he's there's no way he could ever let this go.

#m writes #god I hope this read more link works for mobile users #back at again gays #writing tag #fic: reddie

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