#in short it not only met but surpassed my expectations and now i m going to go to sleep and cry. goodnight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1kook · 4 years ago

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new parent syndrome

— kim namjoon x (f) reader

SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.) WARNINGS dilf!joon, dreamy husband joon, loving parents au, jimin is also a dad, bathtub sexy times, exhibitionism 😳 kinda sorta, tiny praise kink, joon calls her wifey TT, fingering, cunninglingus, doggy style, it’s kinda cheesy n romantic /.\, unprotected sex, …. impreg kink RATINGS m (18+) WC 9.5k

NOTES writing parent fics is harder than i thought :/ i had this idea last week n was like yes, lets write this fic that absolutely no one asked for... except me! <3 so here we are, fantasizing about dreamy dad joon.... as always i have to thank rumu ( @kigurumu ) who is kind enough to edit these n b like that don't make no sense -_- anyway lemme know what u think !! enjoy !!

No matter how hard you try, the letter f refuses to fit itself into Hyejoo’s phonemic understanding. She’s a growing toddler so it’s only normal that there are sounds she still can’t pronounce, words she doesn’t quite get. But her inability to say food or family or friends, which are undoubtedly the three most important things in her three year-old world right now, is definitely a setback you didn’t see coming.

Your worrywart husband has taken matters into his own hands, using the power of Google and about twelve parenting books to create an extensive, one-hour-a-day, mini lesson to try and increase her pronunciation skills. Of course, Hyejoo already attends daycare in the mornings while you and Namjoon are off at work, and gets sufficient learning done there. So she can’t exactly sit through Joon’s lectures, no matter how pretty he tries to decorate her flashcards. She’s still tiny— she’s still your baby, and you want her to enjoy the last of her daycare years before you’re forced to submit her to the worst twelve years of her life (also known as compulsory education).

But as you’ve mentioned before, Namjoon doesn’t quite feel the same way.

“She can’t sound out the letter,” he mopes in bed that night. He’s laying down beside you, face smushed against your thigh. The lamp on your side of the bed is the only thing on, casting a faint golden hue on his cheeks.

This conversation has occurred a variety of times these past few weeks, and you’ve just about ran out of every comforting reassurance possible. You settle on stroking a hand through his hair. There are emails to respond to and clients to check in with, but there’s also a huffy husband in bed beside you who quite pitifully crawls up into your arms.

It’s with his face between your boobs that he speaks again. “What if she’s getting made fun of at school? Or her teachers think she’s dumb?” You roll your eyes. “My baby is not dumb, __,” he says, as if you don’t know. “Her IQ came back above average when I took her to the development specialist that one time, remember?” You have half the mind to tell him an IQ test on a three year old isn’t exactly valid, but there’s already enough stacked on his plate. Finding out he wasted a hundred bucks for an invalid test would just be the cherry on top of all his worries.

Water clings to the very tips of his hair, remnants of his bath with Hyejoo. Namjoon is getting older now, nothing like the dashing grad student you had met what feels like a lifetime ago. There’s bags under his eyes, bags that surpass any all-nighter-pulling college student’s, induced by none other than the sheer power of becoming a parent. And still, he retains his beauty, looks like a doll with his skin so dewy from his skincare routine, lips puffy and red and kissable.

He looks up, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his lips, his familiar scent making you melt into his arms. When he pulls away, there’s still a subtle furrow between his brows.

“Hyejoo is fine,” you reassure him, carding his brown hair out of his face. He leans into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Our girl is the smartest three year-old out there,” you huff, feeling the slightest bit annoyed that he could even insinuate otherwise. “And if she was having problems at school, you know I would be the first one in there, fighting all the other moms.”

Namjoon relents, face falling back into its haven between your tits. “Okay,” he mumbles, muffled from the way his plush lips drag against the soft skin over your sternum.

The subject of Namjoon’s worries is in the other room sound asleep, not the least bit concerned with measly letters and sounds. It’s really only Namjoon who is, his stack of letter flashcards glaring at you from on top of the dresser. “Your mother hen is showing,” you tease as he slips beneath the covers, leaning over you to flick off your lamp. Just like everything else in your house, his t-shirt smells like him. It’s a natural, woodsy scent that floods your nostrils and makes your toes curl when he comes so close.

Namjoon snorts as he settles beside you, beefy arm pillowing your head as he pulls you close. “I’m not a mother hen,” he says, hand on your waist, the tantalizing expanse of his neck before your eyes. “I’m the rooster— the cock,” he snickers, and you reward his terrible attempt at a joke with a pinch to his side that has him retreating to the other end of the bed.

Hyejoo’s best friend in the entire world— or, as she says, her best pren in the entire world —is none other than Park Yerin from daycare. As the universe would have it, Park Yerin is also the one and only daughter of your college philosophy seat neighbor, Park Jimin.

Crossing paths with him later down the road was not something you could ever anticipate, especially when you and Jimin were never that close in college to begin with. It was the only class you had with him in all four years, one where you had quietly acknowledged his charisma and occasionally shared homework answers, before never speaking to him again. You could have greeted him on campus, as you often crossed paths. But Park Jimin was a walking friendship magnet who seemed to bring with him a parade of followers everywhere he went, and approaching him required three layers of strategic planning if you wanted to catch him alone.

So bumping into him at the entrance of Hyejoo’s daycare six years later comes as a bit of a shock. You had never pegged him as the type to settle down so quickly— you don’t mean to label him, but there were certain college stereotypes that he fit like a glove —but there he was, carrying the tiny love of his life who’s currently dressed in a bright pink Minnie Mouse dress.

Unsurprisingly, just like her father, Park Yerin has the same enthralling personality that makes everyone in the three to four year-old daycare class want to be her friend, and your sweet little Hyejoo is not exempt.

Long story short, out of all the kids at Sunny Side Daycare, Yerin is Hyejoo’s favorite, and Hyejoo is Yerin’s favorite.

So now it’s been a little over a year since the two girls have established their friendship, which means it’s been a little over a year of acquainting yourself with Jimin again. He’s a house husband, something you never expected, and he loves his daughter like no other. Some afternoons after daycare are spent with Jimin and Yerin at the nearest coffee shop, watching the girls haphazardly scribble over every piece of paper they can get their hands on while the two of you catch up.

Overall, you’re happy Hyejoo can have a friend like Yerin, and secretly, you're also happy you can finally befriend a fellow parent as nice and put together as Jimin. On top of that, Namjoon’s liked him on the few occasions he’s met him; the two have even gone out for drinks.

However, befriending Jimin and Yerin comes at a cost, and that cost is seeing your little girl grow up.

It’s your turn to mope.

“Yerin asked her to sleepover,” you groan, sadly patting in your skincare routine the next night. Namjoon is somewhere behind you, his naked back glaring at you through the reflection of your vanity mirror. He’s so broad and big, sleep shorts clinging to his waist as he lotions up his body post-shower. There’s a thin gold chain around his neck that glints everytime he moves around, biceps flexing and bulging in plain view until he finally slips his shirt on. There was a time in your life where his back could not go more than two days unscathed, your rabid (read: horny) claw marks painting rosy trails down his spine. These days, you can barely remember the last time he’s held your hand.

“Who?” he asks once he’s settled beneath the covers with whatever book he’s reading now and his thick-rimmed reading glasses.

“Who else,” you say, tugging your night robe closer to your chest as if it’ll prevent your heart from breaking anymore than it already was. “Hyejoo’s first sleepover,” you sigh.

You take it harder than you imagined. In the back of your mind, you’ve always known your little girl was growing up— hello, you were literally watching her grow more and more inches every single day —but you had convinced yourself she would stay your baby for a little while longer. As much as you wanted her to see and learn about the world, you selfishly wanted to keep her home too. She was your baby, your only one at that.

At least Namjoon feels the same way. “Absolutely not,” he squawks, abruptly slamming his book shut. He’s usually really meticulous about lining up his fancy bookmark right on the line he left off on, so his sudden carelessness tells you all you need to know about how he feels.

You sit down beside him, hand over his. “It’s Yerin’s birthday,” you inform him in what you hope is a comforting tone; unbeknownst to him, you’re trying to reassure yourself as well. “And Jimin said he and his wife are gonna be there the whole night.” You trust Jimin, you really do. If there’s anyone who’s more in love with their kid than you and Namjoon, it’s Jimin. He would never let anything happen to his Yerin, and by extension, he would never let anything happen to your Hyejoo. He’s a good dad.

Namjoon rubs at his eyes. In the span of two minutes, he’s aged about five years. “No,” he sighs softly, squeezing your hand tightly. “Once she starts going to sleepovers she’ll start wearing makeup and getting into relationships and having her heart broken—“

A kiss is enough to silence him when he gets like this, his warm breath fanning across your bottom lip when you pull away. “She just wants to wear tutus and sing Baby Shark right now,” you murmur, hand creeping up over his chest. His heart is beating fast as hell beneath his t-shirt, feels like it’ll burst straight out of his chest if you don’t calm him down.

He’s the bigger worrier out of the two of you, has a classic case of paranoid parent syndrome.

It’s no secret that Namjoon has a big brain; he’s an educated man with a respectable job. For every problem he encounters, he can procure a variety of solutions with different approaches. He’s always prepared and part of you thinks he’s a huge reason you managed to survive those first few weeks as a mom. Unlike you, who had attended a whopping two mommy classes in preparation for your upcoming child, Namjoon had studied up on parenting. A lot. He had read books and reviewed scientific studies, had learned about development on the chemistry level and the social level, did all he could until he was confident in his own dad abilities.

But, for every solution Namjoon can find, there are always twenty-eight other factors to worry about.

“What if she has an allergic reaction and Jimin doesn’t know what to do,” he pales, death grip on your hand. His matching wedding band digs into your skin and you have to wrestle his hand away before he accidentally breaks your finger. He nearly broke your neck once when you were in college, had almost sent you to the ER mid-thrust because he had underestimated his own strength while trying to choke you.

“Hyejoo doesn’t have any allergies,” you remind him, giving up on your awkward half-seated position as you clamber over him. His thighs are full beneath you, tense up as you move over him and he manhandles you into his chest.

He’s not done. “What if she asks Jimin for a fizzy drink and he can’t understand her?” His eyes are owlish beneath his glasses, covered in what you can only describe as a visible sheen of absolute terror. “What if he thinks she’s saying ‘pissy’ not ‘fizzy,’ __— what then?” It’s amazing, really, how a man who graduated cum laude can hypothesize this many disasters pertaining to a four year-old’s sleepover.

In the other room, Hyejoo calls for you, so you gladly take the opportunity to remove yourself from Namjoon and his spiraling thoughts. “Look,” you say, tightening the sash of your robe as you get back up. “I’m gonna go tell her that she can go to Yerin’s sleepover tomorrow,” you tell him, giving him exactly three seconds to groan dramatically, before continuing, “and you figure out how to turn that big brain off by the time I come back.”

Luckily, the cause of Hyejoo’s sudden wake up is a tiny bug bite she got from playing outside that just won’t stop itching. “Mommy, it hurts,” she whines, digging her nails into the tiny red mark by her knee.

“Uh huh, lemme see,” you order, turning on her bedside lamp to illuminate the space. Her room is the prettiest shade of yellow, fitting for a ball of sunshine such as herself. “Were you playing by the flowerbeds?” You ask, running a finger over the mark a little too weird looking to simply be another mosquito bite.

She knows she’s not supposed to play near the flowers— the bugs like her a little too much. It’s with a hesitant little nod that she confesses to it. You give her a pointed look. “You’re not supposed to play too close to the flowers,” you remind her, a tiny scolding for now.

With a sniffle she responds, “not by the plowers.”

A little bit of anti-itch cream has her settling, and by the time you return to your bedroom, Namjoon is out cold.

“How old is Yerin turning?” Namjoon asks her at the door, heartbreak clearly painting his features as you help Hyejoo into her shoes.

“Pour,” she beams, her tiny hand held up to show four stubby fingers. She has Namjoon’s pretty smile, an honest look in her eyes that makes you want to put her in your pocket and never let her go. Alas, Yerin’s sleepover party starts at five and Hyejoo has been trying to leave since noon.

“Pour,” Namjoon repeats, shooting you a pointed look as if to say see. He had fought the decision up until the end, had even tried to tactically convince your daughter to stay home by getting a head start on preparing her favorite food. And well. She said no. So now the two of you are stuck having dinosaur chicken nuggets for dinner without her.

She’s got her little travel bag on now, tiny feet stuffed into her ladybug rain boots because it had rained last night and she’s awfully addicted to jumping in muddy puddles. She’s absolutely adorable, your little girl, and you think Namjoon might’ve let out a tiny sob earlier. (Or maybe it was you.)

Namjoon joins you at the front door. “Be good,” he warns her. His eyes are suspiciously wet, but you don’t say anything because yours are too. You’re both crouched in front of her, her big eyes glancing back and forth between the two of you without a care in the world. Mixing your self-assured personality with Namjoon’s (mostly) composed attitude was quite possibly the worst genetic crossover to ever happen; Hyejoo doesn’t even seem remotely bothered by the fact she’s spending her first night away from home. Meanwhile, you and Namjoon are on the verge of a joint breakdown.

Anyway, Namjoon gives in first. “Love you forever, princess,” he tells her, their ritual expression, and kisses her forehead.

She accepts it and then, in an unexpected turn of events, surges forward to hug him around the neck. “Love you pporever, daddy,” she repeats, and your heart feels so painfully full at the sight, like you just unlocked a new life achievement from seeing your daughter and her father be so cute together. You don’t get to coo at them for long, because then she’s giving you a warm hug as well, the same phrase muttered in your ear.

It’s the hardest thing about parenting.

Seeing your kid slowly broaden their horizons, meeting new people and learning new things. Leaving home. (Granted, she’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon but even that feels like an eternity away to the dramatic parents you and Namjoon have become.) The second goodbye on Jimin’s doorstep isn’t any easier, especially when Hyejoo tugs on your arm and asks you to “say night to daddy please” for her, and your heart breaks just a little more. Jimin flashes you an understanding smile but all you want to do is punch him in the nose for ever telling Yerin what a sleepover is.

You get home and Namjoon is in a calmer state by now, some old sitcom he hates playing on the TV. Usually, this time of day is reserved for his daily phonemic lessons with Hyejoo, drilling the f sound into her tiny brain, so you guess this is his preferred method of coping in its place: torturing himself with some boring television show.

“Hey,” he says, and you crawl into his lap with a sad sniffle. “Shh,” he soothes, hand on the back of your head as he guides you into his chest. You’re actually crying now, which is super embarrassing in itself considering you scolded Namjoon for this exact behavior last night. He doesn’t mention it as he pats your back, stupid sitcom paused in favor of soothing you with the deep vibrations of his voice. “Hye’s gonna be back tomorrow, baby.”

“I want her back now,” you huff, vaguely aware of how childish and silly you sound. The tables have turned, and you find yourself wishing you had the same emotional fortitude as Namjoon now. All those parenting books have clearly amounted for something. Somehow, you will the feeling back into your body and pull away from his chest. You must look a mess because he doesn’t even try to hide the amusement on his face. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Namjoon laughs, deep and hearty, with his eyes squeezing shut from the force. “Come on, wifey, those chicken nuggets aren’t gonna eat themselves.”

It’s quite possibly the most boring evening you’ve had in years.

(The internet calls it new parent syndrome, where you’re so undeniably in love with your first child and the parenting experience that the rest of the world is put on pause.)

You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)

Kids are prone to asking weirdly philosophical questions, a fact that had greatly delighted you when Hyejoo first started speaking. Who am I? What’s money? Why not? It could get annoying sometimes, trying to answer all of Hyejoo’s curiosities. But as you begin on your second batch of dinosaur chicken nuggets, all you can think about is how Jimin gets to answer them tonight.

Anyway, seven rolls around and you and Namjoon are bored. You can only watch so many episodes of Seinfield before you get tired of feigning interest, so you retire from the living room for the night. “I’m gonna take a bath,” you tell him, but he’s as brain dead as you by now.

A second later, “lemme join.”

It’s been a while since the two of you have squeezed into the bathtub together, usually assigning each other days to individually join Hyejoo. So it’s really not either of your faults when you realize a second too late how small the space is. One on each end, feet bumping into each other with every movement, it’s like trying to squeeze two feet into one shoe. You try to readjust yourself, but the bath flooring is slippery and you nearly take away Namjoon’s procreative abilities with a mighty kick.

To make a long story short, you end up pressed against his chest, Namjoon’s thick thighs framing you as you relax into the steaming water. Instinctively, he reaches for Hyejoo’s bottle of baby shampoo that sits on the tub’s ledge and only catches himself just as the first droplet is meeting his palm. “Oh, fuck,” he sighs, quickly closing the lid before he can waste any more precious product. “Shit, I’m so sad.”

You snort, sinking farther back into his chest. He’s warm and soft in all the right ways, the hot water making him slippery. “What did we even do before Hyejoo?” you ask, reaching into the deepest crevices of your mind for answers. Namjoon’s hand comes around, fingers sprawled out over your knee, the one you have propped up and breaking the water’s surface

He makes a rather vague sound, something like I don’t know, as he lolls forward, forehead on your shoulder. “Go on dates,” he responds eventually. “Fuck like crazy.”

You roll your eyes. “Besides that,” you chide, pinching the back of his palm. “Don’t we have any hobbies? Any interests?” He doesn’t answer, which is all the answer you need. Why didn’t you get into puzzle solving back when it was a trend? “Is this what our life has become? Crying in a bathtub at seven pm because our emotional support child isn’t here?”

“Our only child,” he corrects. Namjoon tries to placate your looming existential crisis with a kiss to your shoulder, lips against wet skin, that he trails up to your neck. “And what’s wrong with going on dates and fucking?” he murmurs, hands around your stomach. “That’s how we got here,” he teases, and you’re not sure if it’s the warm water or the way his voice is like melted chocolate dripping down your body, but you become all too aware of his presence at that moment. Particularly, of the plush lips mindlessly kissing your shoulder, the wet smack of their motions.

Another kiss, this time right below your ear. It has your head rolling to the side, exposing more skin for him to kiss up on. There’s still that overwhelming cloud of worry in the back of your mind, but it’s gradually nudged away by Namjoon’s warm hands on your skin. Sensing your weakening resolve, Namjoon strikes again. A hand slips down over your stomach, brushes over your belly button and finds itself between your thighs. “You used to love date nights, baby,” he says, the pad of his pointer finger grazing your clit.

It’s been so long since you and Namjoon have been alone like this, months since you’ve been able to touch him beyond a simple make out session, a halfhearted grope beneath the sheets. Your daughter, as much as you loved her, made intimacy impossible for the two of you. She was always around, always looking for one or the both of you, so there was never time to even think about getting frisky.

Only now, with his finger circling your clit, do you realize the blessing in disguise that was your daughter’s first slumber party away from home.

His finger nudges your clit, flicks it teasingly. “Why don’t you let me take care of you, hm?” he hums, the hand that had been soothingly stroking the inside of your thigh coming up to rub at your breasts.

“Yes, please,” you whine. Resting your head on his shoulder leaves Namjoon with a clear view down your front, lips kissing and sucking along your neck. His huge hand palms your breast, massaging the sensitive skin. You hadn’t realized how sore you’d been until now, his nimble fingers pressing deliciously into the skin. If your nipples weren’t already hard before, they certainly were now.

He traps one pearled nipple between two fingers, the sudden pinch making you hiss. “Easy, now,” he chuckles, his low tenor paired with his wandering hands making your eyes roll back.

Namjoon liked to use a higher tone around the house. He read somewhere that children prefer lighter, sweeter tones, so the last few years have been spent listening to him lighten the tone of his voice for the sake of your daughter. The deeper, growlier voice that had first made you fall in love with him became a rarity in your household, reserved for quiet nights in the living room or long drives where Hyejoo was asleep in the backseat. Only then does he unleash the gravelly qualities of his voice.

Then, and apparently, now.

His doll-like lips press against your jaw, suck lightly enough to make your body tingle. “Do you remember how it was the first time?” he says suddenly, his hot breath against your neck.

Namjoon’s got your clit trapped between two wandering fingers, has your pussy twitching with the vibrations of his voice alone. And for some reason, he’s trying to reminisce about your first time sleeping together.

“N- Not really,” you confess, subtly reaching down. You cover his palm with yours, hoping your touch will encourage him to carry on with his actions. It doesn’t. It just leaves both your hands hovering over your pussy, your thighs instinctively closing in on them to keep him there. Namjoon responds to that, releasing the breast he had been gently massaging in order to pry your legs apart. He does it so easily, despite the way your legs feel tight as hell, and the fact makes you whimper.

Once he’s got his hands back between your thighs— this time, he uses one hand to carefully part your quivering lips, the other one gingerly pressing down against your clit to draw the most heavenly sensations out of you —Namjoon feels the need to dive into a recap of your first fuck. “You were so cute,” he laughs, and you don’t know if you should take offense. Well, considering you're married and have a kid now, it’s probably too late to say anything anyway. His hand suddenly switches gears, three fingers joining together to begin caressing them over your throbbing clit. “Kept talking to me so politely, even when you were creaming my cock.”

You scoff, but it gets cancelled out by the moan he draws out of you. “D- Didn’t know you that well,” you remind him, your thighs twitching. You desperately want to buck forward into his giving hands, want to feel the true power of those long, pretty fingers on your cunt.

Behind you, Namjoon’s cock grows thick, his breathing a slow and steady pace by your ear. You can already imagine how heavy he is, the vein that runs along the underside and throbs with each new bit of stimulus he receives. Normally you would reach back and try to offer him the same helping hand he gives you, but your thighs feel wobbly already. Your libido has been dormant for so long that even just the barest flick of his thumb has you dissolving into his arms like this is your first time.

It’s as if Namjoon’s sensing your inner battle, a muffled laugh against the side of your neck. “This is about you,” he reminds you. As much as you want to protest, a sudden hard rub against your quivering lips has you gasping for breath. “Give me a kiss,” he commands softly, nudging his nose against the side of your face. It takes a second for you to ground yourself, draw yourself away from your building pleasure, to turn toward his waiting lips.

Namjoon kisses you slowly, like he’s taking his time with you. For the first time in a long time, he truly can. He doesn’t have to worry about a certain someone waking up in the middle of the night or walking in or anything along those lines, lips molding against yours. Plush as always, the faint taste of dinosaur chicken nuggets clinging to his lips. It makes you laugh a little, drawing away with an airy giggle. Namjoon smiles at your reaction, murmuring a soft, “what is it?”

You shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as he continues his circular motions against your clit. “Nothing,” you pant, finally getting in your first thrust against his fingers. “I just really need you,” you say instead, pushing his hand harder down against you.

You’re feeling a little antsy, having been deprived of this sensation for so long. Namjoon knows this, which is why he very purposely slows down. “There’s no rush,” he smirks, placing a kiss against your chin. “How do you want it, baby?”

The inside of your brain is a scrambled mess, filled with fantasies and ideas that have been plaguing you for months. There’s so much you want to do, want to try, but it’s like your brain completely blanks out when he asks. It’s just as you’re beginning to formulate a thought that you’re interrupted by the sound of your ringtone in the other room. Your husband’s arms tighten around you. “Don’t go,” he says quietly, the tip of his nose running along your neck. It’s so tempting to stay here, to let yourself go in his arms and chase the pleasure you’ve been craving for so long.

But the endless possibilities of who exactly could be calling wins over. Was it work? Was it your parents? Jimin?

It is with a heavy sigh that you reach for Namjoon’s hand, slowly pushing him away from your cunt. “I’m sorry, honey,” you frown, standing up out of the tub. Your legs really do feel like jelly, and you nearly slip and crack your skull on the porcelain edge. Luckily, Namjoon is there to steady you with two secure hands on your waist. “I’ll make it quick,” you reassure him, dropping a kiss on his pouty lips as you fasten a towel around your body.

The phone is just starting up its final ring when you reach it. It’s Jimin, and you’re torn between being thankful that you’re getting word on Hyejoo and full blown panic from the fact Jimin is calling you while Hyejoo is in his care. The unease has you accepting the call without a second more to waste. “Hello?” you say, hand tightening on the front of your towel. Stray water droplets trace ticklish trails down the backs of your thighs.

“__?” comes Jimin’s sweet voice. It’s normally soothing, but right now it has every hair on your body standing on end. Before you can even respond, Jimin is jumping headfirst into a whirlwind of a conversation. “Sorry for calling so late, but I just wanted to check in on you, babe. I know you were really panicked about Hye’s first night away from home, but don’t worry! Me and the missus are doing everything we can to make sure she’s fine.”

His confidence reassures you, lessens the weight that had been sitting on your chest all afternoon. But at the same time, you find yourself wanting to throttle him.

Your gorgeous, sexy hunk of a husband is sitting in the other room, cock at full mast and ready to pleasure you to the moon and back, and here you are listening to Jimin brag about how good of a caretaker he is. You were definitely going to make Jimin pay for this.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, toying with a stray thread on your towel. “Really,” you drawl, and you can practically see Jimin’s ego swell over the line.

“Yup,” Jimin agrees, and by the sounds of it, doesn’t seem like he’s hoping to end this call anytime soon. You want to shoulder part of the blame; you had been extra sad and mopey when you dropped your daughter off. On top of being a good dad, Jimin was also a good friend. It was only naturally he wanted to reassure you when he could.

Still, the memory of Namjoon’s wet chest was calling out to you.

“The girls are playing princess in the living room with the missus right now,” Jimin chats on. “New dresses and everything— the Yerin Birthday Special —and they asked me to be their handsome prince!” You sincerely cannot wait for the day you get to introduce Jimin to your right fist.

“That’s great,” you offer, not that he’s really listening. He’s too busy talking about Yerin (and making sure to include Hyejoo in for your sake) and how amazing it is to watch your kids grow up before your very eyes. And while you agree with the sentiment, you really wish he had called you and told you this earlier, when you were at the peak of your motherly meltdown. Not now with Namjoon waiting for you in the bathtub. Was the water even warm anymore?

The mind blowing orgasm practically slips from your fingertips the longer Jimin talks. “Anyway! Enough about them. I’m thinking of trying out that blueberry bread recipe that aired on TV last night. You know, the one they had that actress make.”

You’ve just about resigned yourself to listening to Jimin talk about his love for pastries for the next thirty minutes when something brushes up behind you. “What the fu—“

He’s so tall and broad, practically covers your entire frame when he stands so close. And his smile is so pretty when he aims it your way. “Sh,” Namjoon murmurs, gesturing towards your phone.

“__?” Jimin calls. “Everything alright?”

Namjoon nods eagerly, the hands on your waist properly positioning you in front of him. It’s with a shudder running down your spine that you respond. “I’m fine,” you tell Jimin, letting go of the front of your towel when Namjoon abruptly pushes you over. The white comforter infused with both of your scents comes all too close, your elbow barely managing to reach out in time to catch you.

Wide eyed, you turn to throw Namjoon a scandalized look over your shoulder. He meets you with a close-mouthed smile, the dimples in his cheeks making themselves known. His chest is drier now, the smooth planes covered in a thin dewy glow and a spattering of droplets he missed. There’s a towel around his waist that’s barely doing its job, especially when you catch sight of the erection tenting beneath it.

“As I was saying,” Jimin rambles on. Namjoon nods towards the device, refusing to move again until you finally turn back around to finish your conversation with Jimin. “That actress fucked it up so bad. They really give anyone with a pretty face screen time these days, huh? At least I know how to properly preheat an oven.”

You nod. “You do make the best cookies in town,” you respond, a ball of anticipation building in your throat from the mere fact Namjoon is standing behind you.

It’s completely warranted once you feel two cold fingers trail up the back of your thigh, your towel gradually pushed up to drape around your waist. The air in your room is a little chilly, and the goosebumps that raise on your skin are partly due to that, as well as the ghostlike touch of Namjoon’s fingers. “Pretty,” he murmurs, so deep and gravelly it has you shuddering.

Two fingers dance along your skin, and you subconsciously jolt away when they meet the tender skin around your pussy. By your ear, Jimin says, “if I completely fuck it up, we’ll just pretend this conversation never happened. Deal?”

Using your own body against you, Namjoon lets one finger dip just the smallest bit into your quivering hole. You clench up, thighs trembling when he eventually pulls it back out and traces your own wetness over your folds. “Perfect,�� you bite out, clutching at the sheets beneath you as Namjoon reaches for your forgotten clit. It’s still so sensitive from your little fun in the bath, and it takes every ounce of strength in you to hold back the whiny gasp in your throat.

Behind you, Namjoon suddenly presses in close. One hand on your hip, he gently encourages you onto the bed. Your knees sink into the mattress, one less strain on your legs. “Good girl,” he praises quietly, rewarding your behavior with a finger sinking into your cunt.

“Joo—“ you almost slip, burying your face into the sheets just in time.

A devastatingly slow pace, his finger just barely moving in and out of you. The bulk of your pleasure is coming from that bundle of nerves towards your front, but the teasing gesture isn’t appreciated anyway. When he leans over you, breath against your neck, you feel the length of his cock against your thigh. “He’s asking you a question,” Namjoon whispers, “answer him, baby.”

You nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he presses himself closer. Jimin hasn’t even noticed your lack of participation, mindlessly humming a song. The sounds of a running sink highlight his vocals. “Oh, absolutely,” you babble. “I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“Ha!” Jimin scoffs. “I knew I could always count on you, Miss __,” he snarks playfully.

The hand toying with your clit comes around your waist, fingers stroking against your folds from this new angle. A silent moan has you writhing forward, unconsciously away from him as Jimin babbles on the other end of the line. He’s none the wiser to the lewd acts happening on the line, listening to the sound of his own voice. Namjoon lands a mean little bite against your shoulder, plunging his finger deeper inside of your clenching hole.

Paired with his teasing fingers, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your moans, biting your lip until it stings. “Fuck, fuck,” you whimper against the sheets, holding your phone as far away as possible from your mouth as a litany of curse words spill from your lips. Namjoon chuckles at your dramatics, not like he has his fingers deep inside of you right now or anything.

“So cute,” he hums, removing his hand from your clit to snatch your towel away. It gives way too easily, messily thrown over the edge of the bed. With your back completely exposed now, Namjoon wastes no time trailing a line of kisses up your spine, finishing off with an especially wet and hard one behind your ear. “Hang up now.”

His permission sets your body on edge, drawing your phone close again. Jimin is talking about dinner or something, you don’t even know. Not an ounce of remorse fills you when you clear your throat and hurriedly announce, “I have to—“ Namjoon’s cock, finally uncovered by his towel, presses against your folds and you nearly lose it. “—I have to go now, Jimin,” you say, leveling your breathing as best as you can.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Jimin says, thrown off by your sudden departure.

The mushroom tip of his cock kisses your clit. “Fuck— I really have to go.” And you hang up, chucking the phone off to the side hastily. With your hands both freed, you scramble onto your back, meeting the amused gaze of your husband behind you. “Fuck me, now.”

Namjoon laughs, reaching for the towel barely clinging onto his waist. One suave swoop later and it joins yours on the floor. “You did good,” he praises, lowering himself between your spread thighs. You roll your eyes, grabby hands reaching for his hips until he’s sitting snugly against you, cock resting over your throbbing cunt.

“Yeah, yeah,” you snap, the tight feeling in your tummy growing with every second that passes. Namjoon isn’t as unaffected as he pretends to be, a pearly bead of cum appearing at the tip of his engorged cock. “Just fuck me now.”

He raises a brow. “Missionary?” As if it’s the first time.

“Is there something wrong with it?” you ask anyway, self-consciously reaching an arm over yourself to cover your naked breasts. They’ve pebbled over just from his stare alone.

Namjoon hesitates, the hand on your hip drawing slow circles with his thumb. Eventually, he responds with a halfhearted shrug. “It’s not the best.” This is news to you, and you find yourself sitting up at the sudden bomb he’s dropped.

He’s still hard as rock between you, his dick laying almost artfully against your slit. You really just want to throw aside all reservations and begin grinding against him, penetration be damned, but now Namjoon’s got that thoughtful quirk to his lips. The one that usually accompanies any big brained idea, so you settle down, nudging him with your thigh until he’s looking at you again. “Penny for your thoughts?” What you really want to say is please fuck me like I’m just another cum rag of yours and make it hurt, but alas.

Namjoon sits back on his haunches. “I read somewhere that on your hands and knees is the best way to get pregnant.” You choke on your own tongue, face ablaze from his forward statement. Meanwhile, Namjoon is looking as relaxed as ever.

You hadn’t really discussed children after Hyejoo. The wordless agreement had been that sure, you were both down for another kid sometime in the future. But the exact date had sort of been murky. Hyejoo is three now, and you heard from another mom that it’s difficult for children with wide age gaps to get along. You don’t want her growing up being far removed from another sibling.

But also, now?

It’s like Namjoon knows your thoughts before you even do. “Alright, wifey, say no more,” he says, leaning down to place a kiss against your lips. “I’ll get the condom, alright?”

And then he’s stepping off the bed, every muscle of his toned body flexing as he swaggers over towards the dresser. He’s a walking dream, the physical embodiment of all your crazy sex fantasies, and he wants to fuck a baby into you. Your pussy says yes, but your rationality is still on the fence.

You roll onto your side, head propped into your open palm. “You want another baby?” you ask tentatively. Namjoon shrugs, carefully opening the new box of condoms you had bought half a year ago.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have another kid,” he answers, procuring a tiny foil packet from the box and returning to his spot between your legs. It’s like staring at a marble statue from this angle, the defined planes of his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous slope of his nose, the sharp angles of his face. You really lucked out.

Your decision comes just as he’s easing the rubber over the tip of his cock, the swollen head just barely enveloped. You place a hand against his wrist, earning his attention. “Take it off,” you mumble, and you swear on your entire life he swells another inch.

“Oh, baby,” he groans, hastily throwing the condom somewhere across the room. He rolls over you, bulging arms sweeping you up into his embrace, lips capturing yours in a sloppy kiss. You whimper, letting his tongue push itself past your lips. When he pulls away, it’s with a wet pop and glistening lips. They’re so puffy now, flushed a nice rosy color, that makes him look even more handsome when he smiles down at you. “Gonna look so pretty all pregnant,” he beams, placing a chaste kiss against you one last time before he’s hurriedly rolling you onto your stomach.

You hide your bashful expression against the sheets, suddenly feeling very shy before him. But then Namjoon’s cock is running along your lips and you’re left a shivering mess. “Please just fuck me,” you beg hoarsely, and Namjoon obeys.

“Whatever you want, wifey,” he teases, and before you can call him out for his cheesiness, he’s pressing his thumb into your aching hole once more. “Is this okay?” he asks, somberly for the first time in what seems like forever.

“I’m okay,” you confess, a little shyly now that you know his true motives.

Namjoon chuckles, quickly removing his finger from inside of you to give your ass one soothing pat. “Going in,” he warns you, and finally, you’re rewarded for all your struggles. It’s only as his mushroom head squeezes in that you realize you could have done with a bit more stretching, but that thought fades away the more and more he pushes in. “Fuck,” he groans, the low intonation of his voice making your toes curl.

If it’s not his voice, it’s the sheer length of his cock inside of you. The girth makes your spine tingle, has you muffling a pitiful whimper into the comforter beneath you. “Relax for me,” he directs, and then suddenly he’s placing a palm against your back, pushing you further down. “Hips up.”

You groan. The normally soft fabric of the blanket feels like hell on your sensitive breasts. “I’m trying,” you whine, pushing back onto him in an effort to familiarize yourself with his cock again. It’s been so long since he’s been inside of you like this, since he’s filled you so well, that your body acts a little stupid now. He hasn’t even begun thrusting and you already feel like you’ll cum just from this.

The angle is different than your usual style, has him moving along every inch of you as he sinks in. Two big hands grab at your waist, manhandling you closer to him until you’re just like he wants you to be. “There we go,” he sighs, and with him motionless, you finally relax. It’s about a two second pause before he begins to draw himself back out. “How do you want it?” he grunts, but it’s lost beneath the moan that escapes you. It’s the same question he asked you in the tub, right before Jimin called, except this time you have an answer.

“Fast,” you gasp, the pain from the stretch finally, finally, melting away as your body grows accustomed to his presence inside of you. “Do it fast, please.”

Namjoon does as he’s told, waiting until he’s pulled out until the tip to satisfy your requests. And then he’s off.

Your body isn’t as young as it once was, left a little worn from the entire child-bearing process. Sometimes you wonder how exactly you and Namjoon would fuck until sunrise before, how your sex drive was so high that it allowed such a thing to happen. Admittedly, there’s currently a stiffness inside of you that has been there for a while now, and you barely remember how you got rid of it before. Apparently, this is how.

Namjoon’s hard cock rams into you once, makes you release the most embarrassingly loud moan at the sudden intrusion, and it’s like all those months of tension that built up in your body are melted away. His cock pushes past your folds, creating a lewd squelching sound that would otherwise leave you mortified to learn it came from your body. You shudder, desperately pushing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to feel it again.

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he growls, snapping his hips forwards. His skin slaps against yours, leaves you feeling tender from the brutal movements of his body. But at the same time, it feels absolutely terrific.

Your lips are still coated in your own wetness, have him noisily moving in and out. “J- Joon,” you whimper softly, but you doubt he hears it over the sound of his own labored breathing. “More.”

He responds with a sudden piston inside of you that has the tip of his cock nearly kissing your cervix. “More?” he huffs, the hand on your back pressing down until you fear you’ll become one with the mattress. “You want more?” You nod hurriedly, somehow managing to stretch a hand down between you to toy with your clit. The brush of your own fingers has you bucking back onto him in surprise.

Wordlessly, he speeds up his pace, thrusting his hips into your velvety walls at a faster speed than before. It’s a weird sensation, a sort of ticklish feeling m that makes you tremble with each roll forward. You can’t say the two of you have done it in this position a lot, always preferring the more romantic missionary position to anything else, but this experience was quickly making you an avid believer of its validity as a top tier sex position.

You swirl your pointer finger around your clit, trying to sync up your shaky touch with his steady thrusts. It’s useless, because every time you feel like you’ve gotten into the same groove, Namjoon one ups you by hauling you back against him. “Oh, f- fuck,” you sob, clawing at the sheets beneath you.

Namjoon groans, momentarily pausing his rapid thrusts to roll his buried cock against you. “Come on, baby,” he husks, the hilt of his cock kissing your folds.

There’s a lot of built up sexual tension inside of you, months on top of months of nothingness. Not to mention that little scene in the bathtub just now. So you’re not really surprised that your orgasm rears its head so early, curling up tightly in your stomach the longer Namjoon fucks you. He’s back to thrusting now, shallow little movements that make you see stars every time his cock glides inside of you. “Joon, I'm gonna...” you rasp out pitifully, grinding back against him.

“Whenever you want,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss against your shoulder. It’s sweet, but on top of that, it has him pushing in further than before, finally pressed against that sensitive spot inside of you that makes your entire body lock up. You sob, thighs quivering when he reaches an arm around you. It’s almost romantic how your hands meet, his fingers covering yours as he guides them over your clit slowly. “Give it to me, baby,” he croons, lips pressed securely against your neck. He leaves soft kisses there, smooches really, that make you melt.

Another shallow buck of his hips forward and you’re cumming, breaths picking up until they accumulate into a choked wail against the sheets. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” you cry, your thighs spasming from the force of your first satisfying orgasm in months. Namjoon holds you through it, slowly thrusting inside of you until he’s drawn out your entire orgasm.

The new added pleasure makes his movements sound even wetter, dirtier even. “That’s it,” he purrs, pushing himself back up to his full height behind you. You feel absolutely boneless beneath him, laying limply against the mattress as Namjoon repositions your hips for himself. “Can I finish like this, sweetheart?” he asks anyway, thumbs drawing a soothing pattern along your hip.

You can barely catch your breath, so you settle on a halfhearted nod that has him huffing out a laugh.

For some reason, Namjoon fucks you harder once he knows you’ve had your fill. Like he’s trying to draw another orgasm out of you, but is also the least bit concerned with you. Honestly, it works. He moves fast and hard, like he has no regard for your pleasure, and for some reason that turns you on more than it should. It’s this weird fantasy of yours, to be mistreated by a man as respectful as Namjoon, and you find yourself weirdly fulfilling it now as he fucks his cock into you.

His fingers dig into your skin, wildly bucking into you as he chases his own high, and it’s embarrassing how quickly a second one builds up for you. You moan at one particular thrust, body sensitive all over. “Oh,” you whimper, “Namjoon.”

He grunts, your cries fueling him on as he continues his mad race to the end. “Gonna cum with me again?” he pants, his quick pace rocking you forward. You nod, using your killer grip on the sheets to ground yourself as you weakly attempt to meet his thrusts. “Aren’t you the sweetest,” he hums, and doesn’t let you respond as he continues to jackhammer his way into your pussy at a bruising pace.

It takes a few more thrusts, and one whiny cry of his name— “come on, Joonie,” you whimper, turning to throw him a teary-eyed gaze over your shoulder; he shudders at the sight —until Namjoon is finally tipped over the edge, shooting his pleasure deep into you on the next thrust. It’s warm, paints your walls and threatens to spill out when he finally pulls out.

But Namjoon has read up, using those big strong arms of his to keep you from collapsing onto your tummy as he scrambles around for something to keep your hips up. “It sticks better this way,” he says, a sheen of sweat against his temples when he flops down beside you.

“What sticks better,” you groan, the achy feeling of just having your world rocked quickly settling into your bones.

Namjoon leans forward and places a kiss against your lips, as if saying here, for all your hard work. “You know... it,” he shrugs, hands behind his head as he prepares himself to supervise your post-sex nap, just to make sure you don’t accidentally move around and let his cum leak out. “You did good, wifey,” he praises with another smooch. “Maybe we should let Hyejoo sleep over at Jimin’s more.”

Hyejoo’s return is the highlight of the year.

You pick her up around noon, and your heart nearly grows ten sizes when you see her come running down Jimin’s front steps and into your arms. “Hi, mommy,” she beams, the same smile as Namjoon. And just like Namjoon, you can’t stop yourself from covering her face in tiny kisses. She says they tickle and squirms and squeals in your embrace.

Jimin’s at the door with this weirdly blank look on his face. “Hey, Jimin,” you call out, helping Hyejoo load her bag into the backseat.

“Hey…” he greets, just as Hyejoo frantically begins calling for you to buckle her in. “Um, __,” Jimin says, but you’re a little busy securing the tiny love of your life into her booster seat, so you just throw him a quick glance to let him know you’re listening. Kinda. “There’s something I have to tell you—“

“I wanna see daddy!” Hyejoo babbles from the backseat, wildly waving her hands around as you finally close the door on her. With it shut, her loud voice is drowned out and you’re left raising a brow at Jimin as you round the front of the car.

“What’s up?” you ask.

Jimin comes down the steps, awkwardly hovering by the front of your car. “Um, when we were on the phone—“ Hyejoo knocks her tiny hands against the window, gesturing for you to hurry up. You flash Jimin an apologetic frown at the interruption. “Well, you see. She kinda heard us— well, me—”

Another flurry of knocks, and you can’t wait to relay to Namjoon how excited your daughter had been to see him again. It’ll boost his ego, not that he really needs it to be any bigger. “That’s fine,” you tell Jimin, swinging your door open. Immediately, Hyejoo’s high-pitched voice fills the space between you and Jimin. “You know I don’t mind talking to the missus,” you joke, nudging his side. “She’s my friend too, ya know.”

“Gotta show daddy something!” Hyejoo shouts from the backseat, has this big smile on her face that makes you smile as well.

Beside you, Jimin is quickly falling apart. “No, well—” you drop down into your seat “it wasn’t her who heard—“ You shut the door, lowering the window to thank Jimin one more time. Hyejoo beats you to it.

“Bye, Mr. Jimin!” she says, tiny legs kicking around all wildly in her excitement. You shake your head with a grin, waving goodbye to Jimin one last time as you pull out of his driveway.

“Daddy!” Hyejoo shrieks upon entering your home. Her tiny overnight bag is tossed down at the entryway, ladybug rain boots haphazardly kicked towards the general direction of the shoe closet. Namjoon had been upstairs in his study when you left, but he now comes bounding down the steps at the sound of your daughter’s voice. He cries out a dopey, “princess”, as he scoops her up in his big arms. He does a twirl and everything, so dramatic. But it makes Hyejoo giggle like crazy.

She allows one big fat kiss against her chubby cheeks before she’s shushing him with the news of her announcement. “Daddy, look,” she beams, holding his face between her tiny hands. “I can say the f sound now!”

Namjoon has been avidly working towards this ability for months now. Namjoon, who has spent nights reading every page of every child development book possible, who has spent hours decorating pretty flashcards for her, who has sectioned off time from his busy schedule everyday just to go over lessons with her. Well, Namjoon looks over the goddamn moon at the news.

“Let’s hear it, honey,” you urge, stepping in when his happiness renders him incapable of speech. So he just nods along, looks like a bobblehead doll beside you.

And with both of her proud, sometimes overprotective, parents standing before her, Hyejoo puts on a big grin and says, “fuck.”

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #namjoon fic #kim namjoon fic #knj fic #bts fic #bts smut #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader smut #mine

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chewiedon · 4 years ago

Text

REGRET | TSUGIKUNI M.

the rq didn't go exactly how it was written, but I had no idea what they were supposed to talk about, taxes?

REQUEST: Y/N has been married to Michikatsu Tsugikuni for 5 years and has lived a happy life with her 2 children and husband. One day, her husband decides to leave all 3 of them behind to join the Demon Slayers, he deeply loved Y/N however his jealousy was far stronger, and thus 2 years pass. On a cold night Y/N sits at the top a cliff near her home, with her oldest child dead due to a monster that attacked their old home at night. She wonders how her husband is doing and amidst her thinking a demon approaches ready to attack. Michikatsu kills it and reveals that he had gone back just 2 months after to discover the house reeking of blood and both his wife and offspring missing, and that he had been searching for them. He offers Y/N his haori/kimono (??) in fear that she will grow cold and they just talk.

You and your family didn’t have much money, but you were happy nonetheless. Your husband was a hard worker that took care of his and yours child, everything was perfect. Another child was due in a few short months, and both you and your eldest were ecstatic. In your point of view, but there was a growing concern in your stomach that continued to plague you the growing days. Your husband, Michikatsu’s brows seemed more furrowed lately, and his training has been frighteningly more intense. At first you didn’t mind, you were glad he was improving on the things he was passionate about! Things only seemed to go downhill from there, to the point where he’d pass out for hours on end from exhausting himself too much.

The afternoon was surprisingly quiet, your toddler sat behind you while you folded clothes. You couldn’t help but eye your husband that laid on a futon that was in the other room. He ended up passing out again after training under the hot summer sun. Before you realized it, you were staring at his unconscious state. A gaze with increasing concern.

“Okaa-chan!” A squeaky voice interrupted your focus, “I’m hungry! Let’s have lunch soon!” The child that sat behind you tugged on the fabric of the kimono.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Yuki. I’ll get some lunch going for us then, what would you like to eat?” You smiled sweetly to the child, before quickly setting the sheet that was in your hands down onto the ground.

“Rice balls! Rice balls! Rice balls!” Yuki cheered behind you, dancing as she did so.

“Shhh, you don’t want to wake Otou-san do you? Let’s let him rest,” You reminded her with a sweet tone, your smile only grew as she put her hands over her mouth.

Soon, the afternoon had come to an end and the day had gotten darker that was accompanied by an evening chill. Yuki was munching on some leftover rice crackers that she had found, enjoying the evening before it got too cold on the engawa. Heavy but quiet footsteps were heard, turning around you were met with the intense eyes of your husband.

“Michikatsu, I’m glad you’re up now. I’ll get started on dinner soon,” You said, looking up to him with a gentle smile present on your face.

He gave you a small hum of agreement before watching you scurry off into the home, leaving him alone with Yuki. Unbeknownst to you, he had a massive burden on his shoulders that was eating at him. With a soft sigh, he took a look at his daughter who stared back at him with wide eyes.

“Yuki-chan, it’s time to come inside,” Michikatsu requested, his voice monotone and dull.

The girl let out a small hum before standing and dusting off her purple kimono, then heading inside, her father following behind the girl. You could be seen starting a fire on the clay furnace that was in the kitchen. The kitchen was hardly that though, it was a small room filled with wood and sticks and a furnace. You were spaced out while looking at the straw and wood that was burning, waiting for the water set above it to start boiling.

“(Y/N)?” A rough voice took your heads out of the clouds, turning your head to look over your shoulder meeting your husbands’ intense eyes once more. “Can I talk to you?” He added.

You let out a small hum, he squatted down to your height where you were crouched close to the floor. He grabbed your face, his fingers around your jawline which forced you to look at his face. You let out a small yelp of surprise when he yanked your face closer to his, the tips of your noses mere millimeters from touching.

“I have to talk to you, it’s important.” Michikatsu said, his voice strict and filled with reason. You couldn’t do anything but clench your jaw in anticipation.

Putting your hand around his wrist to support your weight, “What is it, is something wrong?”

“No, I’m going to leave soon. Final selection is going to start the day after tomorrow. I need to surpass my brother and join the Demon Slayer Corps.” His voice wasn’t as monotone, but took a more serious approach.

You let out a small hum, your brows furrowed in frustration. “So… You’re going to leave?” It was more of a rhetorical question, because you already knew the answer.

“Yes,” His voice and expression were unwavering as he stared deep into your eyes.

“Tomorrow?” You whispered with caution, you couldn’t deny the frustration that was bubbling inside your stomach.

He nodded, and you hummed back. His grip on your jaw loosened allowing you to move and continue with what you were doing before, your husband was leaving. You didn’t want to try and stop him, you respected his wishes to leave and the last thing you wanted to do was hold him back. But… What about you? You had Yuki to take care of and you lived about an hours’ walk away from the closest village. Not to mention you were 3 months expecting another one of Michikatsu’s children. The extra workload seemed stressful, but you should be able to adjust smoothly. Demon slayers make good money if you can do it right, but money shouldn’t come at the risk of your husband's life. Not that he was doing this for money, he was doing it so he could surpass his brother, you decided to respect his wishes. You kept quiet and served him and Yuki dinner, and Michikatsu told the petite girl while she chewed on her wooden spoon.

“Eh? Go away? Where? How long?” Her eyebrow creased, tears swelling in her eyes. Yuki then started to sniffle and rubbed her eyes before her father could answer her, “I don’t want you to leave! It’s no fair!” She claimed.

“I don’t know how long it will be, but I promise to visit when I can. This is really important to me, Yuki.” He paused and waited until Yuki looked at him, “I need you to take care of your mom for me? Can I count on you?”

“Yeah… Yeah,” She was still a sobbing mess, all you could do was smile at the two.

But, why now? Why not a week prior so he could help prepare for you and your daughter instead of just leaving you high and dry. You knew as his wife it was your duty to support him, but you couldn’t help but feel a little negative.

And you had every right to.

How long ago was that? One, maybe two years ago?

You depended on Michikatsu to protect you if something like this were to happen, even though he had no way of doing so. How would he know this would happen? It’s not his fault… So why when your life flashed before your eyes you held on to your vision of Michikatsu.

There was blood, so much blood. You woke up to the blood curdling scream of your eldest daughter, a demon had sunk its teeth into her neck. You shook, and you ran. You grabbed your youngest who cried in fear from the fresh blood of his sister that was on your face.

“Hah? You think you’re going somewhere?!” It sneered at you, dropping Yuki’s lifeless body on the floor as if she was some kind of dog toy. You had your son tucked into your chest and ran as fast as your legs could manage, this unknown adrenaline kicking into your body. It only lasted so long, tripping over a larger rock and falling on your side. You felt a searing tear of the flesh in your leg, the burning sensation of the skin being ripped open. You screamed, hoping some Godsend creature would come and rescue you. Another rush of adrenaline had kicked in as you kicked the monster away with all your might, and the chase had begun once again. You forced your legs to move, you subsided all pain and resisted the urge to limp. Tears made way to your face as you had begun to cry out of fear that this demon would end up taking you and your sons’ life away. Running through the woods, no shoes or socks, you prayed. You prayed for your husband to come back before you died, you’d do anything to see his intense eyes again.

Michikatsu, why did he have to leave? No, it’s not his fault because he didn’t want to live his life in a small shack that stunk of breastmilk. He wanted to live his life. You can respect that, but not now. Your lungs began to become sore, and every part of your body felt like it was on fire. How long have you been running? Is the demon still behind you? You knew if you slowed down or stopped running you probably wouldn’t be able to start running again, you were finally out of the woods and into a big clearing. Long grass that was up to your hips bathed your figure. Your legs went from a sprint to a walk, then crashing onto the floor. Your child’s cries rang in your ears as you tried to soothe it between heavy breaths, you laid on the ground with him in your arms trying to muffle his cries with your chest. You couldn’t hear anything but the now muffled and softer cries of the child, and your own heavy breaths. Your lungs were still on fire, and your body fell completely limp. Your eyelids were beyond heavy, the stinging in your leg pulsing with more pain by the second. Your entire being was numbed from the exhaustion.

Everything was hopeless at this point, you were going to die here from blood loss or that demon is going to come and kill you both. You couldn’t go and get help, and your son was way too young to do anything like that safely.

“(Y/N)?! (Y/N)!” At this point you refused to believe your ears, you lifted your head above the grass to see a tall figure yelling out your name.

Hope swelled in your chest, as you began to recognize that tone more and more. He came. He came back. Michikatsu came back!

“Michi-” You weren’t able to speak or move as a pulse of pain spread throughout your entire body.

“(Y/N), (Y/N)! Where are you?” You raised your hand, it shook in the air as your husband ran to your limp body.

The first thing he did was hold your face to his, touching his cheeks to yours making sure you were real. He held you tightly, but not enough to hurt you.

“Is he okay? Where’s Yuki?” He lifted his head as if to look around you for the small girl.

Grief swelled in your chest, “Gone, the demon got her… I’m so sorry.” Was all you could manage to say, warm tears made their way freely down your cheeks. You whispered bitter apologies over and over to him.

He hummed, stroking the side of your face, “It’s okay, you’re alright and that’s all we need,”

He wrapped his haori around your shoulders once he noticed your shaking. Burying the remains of your eldest daughter was hard, but the hardest part was cleaning out her room where her blood stained the wooden floors. Michikatsu stayed and soothed you the entire time you were crying as you scrubbed her liquids out of the wood. He didn’t know what to do except pat your back and tell you it was going to be okay.

And that’s all you really needed.

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer angst #kokushibou #kny x reader #kny x reader angst #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #michikatsu tsugikuni #x reader #reader insert #anime x reader #kny x reader domestic #domestic reader

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chayacat · 4 years ago

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (25)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

Trust. When you are in a relationship, with friends or family, trust is the essential thing to make everything go well, in addition to fidelity for the case of a couple. When you trust someone, you tell them about your fears, your doubts, your suspicions, everything you want to talk about and you know that the person we're talking to, help us or keep it all to him. In the context of work, trust is also important! It’s above all the centerpiece of a good company. A company where all employees have trust in each other and their bosses is a good company, whatever it is.

Sometimes trust is put to the test. Some succeed and see their success rewarded by a stronger friendship, a more united couple, more close-knit colleagues. Others fail and see everything they have earned so far crumble. But trust can unfortunately also be a weapon of manipulation. How many people in this world have betrayed other people in the name of their personal interests? Far too much, unfortunately. Making someone believe that they can trust you, to betray them better afterwards is one of the most horrible things that can happen. Because then you don't trust others anymore, you see bad people everywhere and believing someone is almost impossible.

But sometimes... Fear surpasses reason and trust. When something bad happens to you... something horrible, you're afraid of the judgment of others. Because sometimes even your closest friends, who you can trust the most can hurt you. You are afraid of the reaction of your soul mate because even if you know him for years, you never know how he will take what you will tell him. And in your case.... It's very complicated.

For several days now, you've been making the hundred steps in your head. Stressed, worried, even terrified of the reaction that Jed might have if you ever tell him that Ghostface.... almost stole your virginity. What would he think of you? Would he blame you? Would he be heartbroken that you didn't tell him about it before? you've been in a relationship for a short time, but still... Jed is a lovely boy whose character you don't know. He doesn't seem like the type to get upset but beware, the quieter ones are usually the most dangerous. And when they explode... it's better not to stand next to them.

“What do I do? What can I do? And most of all, what am I going to do if he takes it badly?? I don't want to destroy such a young relationship... I never want that to happen anyway! but... if Jed took it badly.... I wouldn't know what to do. Or say.” You said to yourself, terrified to see Jed leave you and never talk to you again.

“Uh... Excuse me miss... I'm here to do the job interview. I'm not late?”

You raise your head to face a young woman, who was holding papers in her hands. Since you posted your job offer, several people have contacted you to get the job. You have juggled several CVs and cover letters and have retained only 6 of them. For two places. It was very hard to choose from all these people... they all had interesting CVs, but you couldn't keep them all. the coffee is not very big after all.

“Not at all, you arrive right on time! Please sit down.” you said to the young girl before taking her papers gently. “Amy... I saw in your CV that you had done a lot of studies in sales as well as an apprenticeship in pastry. I also saw that you had worked a little in the sale. You know, this café is new, and it's a lifelong project. I want to go as far as possible with this coffee and be able to entrust it to someone trustworthy. You understand?”

“Of course! Don't worry, if you recruit me, I promise to make sure that my work is only beneficial to your coffee! I promise to ensure a service worthy of your establishment and to respect the rules and practices that you apply.” respond Amy, a little stressed, looking at his hands from time to time.

“Ha ha you can relax don't worry! I'm not going to eat you! I'm a very nice person, believe me.”

“Sorry... It's just that... my former boss fired me because I didn't follow the rules when it was all the opposite! He said I was an idiot and an incompetent...”

“Well, I'll never tell you that. You're here to learn, and I know you're going to make mistakes. But it doesn't matter! It's by learning from one's failures that one becomes better. And if that doesn't work out, you can always tell me about it. I will never demean an employee.” you replied with a smile.

You both continue to talk for a little while and then Amy left the café smiling, relieved that her job interview finally went well. An hour later, it is the turn of another person, a young man to pass his interview. Compared to Amy, he'd already work in a café, as a waiter. He found himself unemployed because the café in question had closed by judicial liquidation. He had had a hard time finding work in this domain because in his area, coffees were scarce, there were mostly bars. That was one of the reasons why he came to live here. He really wanted to work here but would understand if you took someone else. He used to it now.

But you reassure him by telling him to not lose hope. That he always ends up finding a job even if it's not in what he knows. He gave you a slight smile while rubbing the back of the skull and then, like Amy, he left the café after an hour. You stretch while blowing a good shot before you get up to serve yourself a fresh fruit juice. As you begin to serve yourself, lost in your thoughts, you startle slightly when you feel two hands taking you by the waist. Then a slight laugh that you would recognize between a thousand. You turn to do that Jed who was always so adorable with his eyes and angelic smile.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you... You look exhausted. Did these interviews go well?” He asks, dropping a quick kiss and getting you closer to him.

“It went very well even. I've already talked to each of them, and their profile is interesting, it's going to be very difficult to choose.” you respond, kissing him back.

“I know you're going to make it. You don't have to feel guilty about those you can't take. You have to think you can't hire a lot of people right now. But later who knows you can expand? You know what I'd do? I'll keep the CVs of everyone you refuse. Maybe you'll never know you'll have more jobs to fill in the future?”

“I think that's what I'm going to do! Thank you very much Jed. What about you? Do you get along with Wilhelm?” you replied, laughing a little.

“Well, if I'm still here and I'm not in jail... we can say that we can get along with both of us. But believe me sometimes I would like to be sick, to not see him all day ... Are you sure you're, okay? You really don't look good. Do you want to talk about it?” He said, worried about your sad face.

Is this really a good time to talk about it? That's the question. One day or another, he will know. And the later he finds out, the more he'll be mad at you. That's what you think anyway. But if you tell him now... he might take it badly too. Tears began to flow down your face. Jed took you against him, reassuring you as best he could. He exuded a reassuring aura, in his arms, nothing could happen to you. You felt it. He would protect you to death if he had to. You can trust him.

“I am here. Tell me what's wrong, my love. Something bad happened?” asks Jed.

“You promise you won't get mad?” you said, worried.

“I promise.”

“The other night.... Ghostface came to see me... again. He spoke to me... he absolutely wants to make me his... his accomplice. And then he... he pinned me against the wall. he undressed me and he almost... he almost...” you said before crying, hiding your face in your hands, shameful of what almost happened.

“Hey...look at me.” he simply said.

You raise your head to look at him straight in the eye. But it's not anger or anything else that you see on his face... but sweetness.

“You should have told me sooner. I could have done something to protect you. Maybe I could have faced him. If you trust me, then you must tell me when things aren't going well. All right? Never forget that I'd always be there for you.” He said softly, kissing your forehead.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” you said drying your tears.

“You know what? Tonight, you're sleeping at home. I'm not leaving you alone with this sick man again. We're going to have an evening just between the two of us and no one else. I promise I won't let anyone hurt you, is that clear? No one. You've finished your interviews, so we can go do whatever you want, relax. You don't have to think about that. You must be strong, show him that you are not afraid and that you will never be afraid of him.”

You smile at him before kissing him and snuggling up in his arms. You could tell if it was luck or that it was predicted, but you are happy to have met him. Few men, like him, react in this way. But what you don't see my dear... it's the smirk, even unhealthy smile of "Jed" spreading on his face. If only you knew my little... If only you know. But even if you ever find out... It'll be too late. You are completely trapped in his web, and he will never let you escape. Never.

You both leave the café, after your usual surveillance ritual of course, and you spend the rest of the day together. First you go to a bookstore, in order to expand your library. And we can say that you did not take 3 small books ... but a good dozen. You'll be busy with all that for quite a while. Jed had done the same, especially detective novels. You also take the opportunity to buy CDs. And surprisingly, Jed listens to rock. Looking at him, you didn't think he'd listen to this style of music, you expected jazz. Maybe he's listening to it too! But imagining Jed at a rock concert is pretty funny in itself.

Then you do some shopping for tonight's meal: salmon pavement with rice, and a sauce... to fall to the ground. And whipped strawberries for dessert. A good meal in perspective with the one you love. You both go back to Jed's apartment, even if before you go to your apartment to deposit your purchases. Then you go back to Jed's and start preparing everything.

“I didn't know you were listening to rock. I thought you were more... Jazz or whatever.” you said with a smile.

“Well, when I was in college... rock has often allowed me to escape a little. I felt safe, cut off from the outside world when I needed it. I also listened to jazz but... rock helped me a lot. Carla also thought it was weird that I listened to it. It's true that when I see myself... we don't think about that kind of music at all.” Respond Jed, cooking the salmon and rice.

“You are a man full of surprise... I like that. You need help?”

“I just need you to take care of cooking the rice while I take care of the sauce, you'll see... you won't move from your chair. And you should wash the strawberries, too. Put them in a bowl filled with water and leave them in, I have cups in this closet.”

You take care of the rice and strawberries, then set the table. Once everything is ready, you spend the evening laughing and chatting while eating. It was good for you. You needed a little breath. And with Jed, you feel like you'll always have them. Even though the evening was cut off for a while by Jed's job, everything went very well and you both end up on the couch watching a movie... pretty dumb.

“Why in this kind of movie, girls are big fools who get killed by the murderer? frankly they can't put strong women for once?” you said, crossing your arms.

“These were the movies of the time, where the real hero is the bad guy and or the first to die is either the stupid girl or the shy little geek...unfortunately.” Respond Jed with a little laugh.

“But I know that if we were in this kind of situation... You'd protect me. And that for once, the little nerd would be the hero.”

“Beware that the little nerd doesn't eat you raw. If you know what I mean.”

You hit Jed's arm, which laughed before kissing you. Then as the film progresses you feel tiredness invading you. Little by little, your eyes closed. You feel two arms lift you and carry you to bed. You open your eyes slightly to see Jed change. You also change, pricking one of his t-shirts to make pyjamas for the night. Then he comes to bed and takes you in his arms.

“Tell me you always sleep in a boxer or do you still have something a little warmer for cold nights?” you ask with a small voice.

“Well... as long as it's not autumn, yes. Then I have what it takes when the cold weather arrives. But if you live with me... then being able to hold me against you all nights will always warm me up.” He answers with a smile.

“How adorable. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you about... You know what. I was really scared...”

“Forget it. But from now on, you'll have to warn me when things aren't going well. Good night, my angel.”

On these beautiful words, you both fall asleep, each in the arms of the other. That aura of protection that Jed exuded reassured you, soothed you. But if you knew that your dear boyfriend was also the murderer of Roseville... That from the beginning you have dated your potential executioner ... You'd be scared.

And the trust you place in him will fly away. But it's too late now.

You can't go back. You're stuck with the devil.

By your own will.

***

(Well at least I made it right on time! As I said in the last chapter, from May 5th to May 7th, I'll not be there. So Chapter 26 will be released on Friday, May 14th! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the others! I will now rest my brain. Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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thebrochtuarachs · 4 years ago

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To Begin Again, Chapter 11: “Riding”

A/N: I know it's been a while since I updated this story but I hope you like this short little chapter. :) It's been fun revisiting this story and I just love this AU of Jamie and Claire. It’s been a while since I wrote so apologies in advance and as always, comments and suggestions are always welcome. Hope you're staying safe in this pandemic. Love always, M

This chapter is dedicated to @samncait4ever. 🧡 Thank you for being a wonderful friend and fandom ally. Rest in Peace. <3

AO3 / CH: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

XXXX

Jamie and Claire spent the next two days rekindling with each other inside the laird's room, only bothering to leave the chambers once to grab food from the kitchen that will last them for days.

They flitted through talking, eating, coming together, and sleeping ( not particularly in that order ) until they’ve reached another pause in what has been a blissful 2 days.

"Jamie," Claire said softly, a hand caressing the back of his head, "I don't think I've ever been so happy." Jamie rolled to one side, shifting his weight carefully so as not to squash his wife, and lifted himself to lie face-to-face with Claire.

"Nor me, my Sassenach," he said, and kissed her lightly, but lingering, so that she had time just to close her lips in a tiny bite on the fullness of his lower lip. "It's no just the bedding, ye ken," he said, drawing back a little at last. His eyes looked down at Claire, a soft deep blue like the warm tropic sea.

"No," Claire said, touching his cheek. "It isn't."

"To have ye with me again -to talk wi' you -to know I can say anything, not guard my words or hide my thoughts...God, Sassenach," he said, "the Lord knows I am lust-crazed as a lad, and I canna keep my hands from you-or anything else-" he added, wryly, "but I would count that all well lost, had I no more than the pleasure of havin' ye by me, and to tell ye all my heart."

Claire’s heart ached and soared with Jamie’s confession, much more to the fact that his sentiments echo to hers so strongly.

“So tell me all yer heart” Jamie said, “We’ve got time now”

Claire gave a small chuckle but moved to settle a bit more to Jamie’s side. "It was lonely without you," she whispered. "So lonely." She need not say more.

“Do ye regret it?” he asked, not really meaning to dampen their high but a question that came naturally in the conversation.

Claire didn’t even think about not answering but owed it to her and Jamie’s newfound strength to bring up these kinds of conversation in their reunion.

“The time we lost, yes. Brianna, no - definitely not.” She gave him a wry smile and continued. “There are so many what-ifs, the things we dreamed about happening, the future we planned… a part of me wonders what our life would be like if we stayed in the 18th century, raised Bree in that time with Jenny and Ian.”

“Aye, I do ken what yer saying. I spent a lot of time in the cave thinkin’ about ye and the bairn and what she’d look like, how ye’ll be as the lady of the house, something of the like’

Claire glanced at the window where the light was strong through the blinds, telling us that it was probably mid to past noon.

“Jamie, as much as I’d like to stay here another day, Bree’s coming in the evening and we need to get up and put our clothes on at some point.”

Knowing full well that Jamie won’t be the first to comply, Claire reluctantly got up and rummaged through the pile of discarded clothes on the floor to look for some undergarments and pants. Jamie was still not moving, staring at her with hooded eyes she knew so well but she would not budge as well.

“Oh, come on, get up!” She said laughingly as she pulled the blanket off Jamie’s body forcing him to groan in the cold. “There’s plenty more to see around! care for a stroll with me?”

“With ye, anywhere, Sassenach.”

Bree’s last class for the day cancelled allowing her to travel up to Lallybroch earlier than scheduled. Her parents' directions were fairly easy to follow and now, she found herself on the rough path towards a 3-story building that was meant to be her home.

She saw every detail as told by her mother - the arch that bore the Fraser emblem at the top, the handsome three-story manor of harled white, windows outlined in the natural gray stone, a high slate roof with multiple chimney’s and several smaller whitewashed buildings clustered about.

She took it all in and expected to feel all the history to overwhelm her but for some strange reason, it brought her a sense of peace and belonging.

She parked her car and proceeded to knock on the front door. After three tries and no answer, she decided to explore the backyard and found out why her knocks and calls were unanswered.

Over the horizon, Brianna saw two horses racing one another in the open field, the competition clearly fierce.

“You’ve lost your touch on the horse, Sassenach” Jamie called, looking briefly behind him to watch Claire.

Claire commanded her horse to a faster speed, easily surpassing Jamie, calling him out “Sorry, you were saying?” she laughed. “Race you to the stables!”

With her headstart, Claire ran out Jamie and won the race.

Once she dismounted her horse and led her white horse to her stable for some food and water while Jamie followed suit, dismounting from his black stallion.

“I should’ve known you were holding back from me, Sassenach.” Jamie said, walking towards her as she closed the door to her horse’s stables.

“Well, if last night was any indication, you shouldn’t have doubted that” Claire replied, allowing herself to be trapped as Jamie placed both his hands on the stable door, blocking her way.

"I thought you'd be a little sore but I seem to be mistaken" Jamie teased, leaning in for a kiss until -

“Mama! I’m surprised that you can ride...” Brianna began her question “... a horse!”

“Bree! You’re here! I thought you won’t arrive till nighttime” Claire pulled away from Jamie’s arrest and went to greet their daughter.

“Yeah, my last class got cancelled. Roger and Mrs. Graham will come in a couple of days.” she explained. “Hi, Da” Bree proceeded to give Jamie a brief hug as well.

“Well, it’s almost lunch, I think we have pork chops we can easily deep fry.”

“Sounds good.”

The trio walked back to the house where Claire proceeded to the fridge and told Jamie and Bree where everything else in the kitchen are.

“So, tell me about the house” Bree asked as they prepared their food.

Claire and Jamie proceeded to exchange stories, flitting between when Jamie’s father built it, to stories of the Fraser children being born in the house, to when they stayed there for a couple of months after they got married, how Jenny and Ian kept it in the family through the challenging years in the past and how Claire purchased and renovated to what it is now.

“It’s a rather large piece of land, that’s why we need the horses.” Claire finished the story.

“How’d you learn?” Bree asked.

“Well, you know my stories with Uncle Lamb and how we traveled to archaeological sites when I was younger. I had to learn pretty quickly how to ride. And then, when I met your Da, he was a soldier and a stable boy, taking care of the horses, so I got to spend a lot of time watching him train the young kids in the castle” Claire explained.

“Do ye know how to ride, Brianna?” Jamie asked as they fixed the table.

“Uhm, no.”

“I can teach ye! If ye want, of course.” Jamie stammered, hoping he did not push his limits.

“Yes! I would love to.” Bree exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to try but never got the chance.”

“Why not? I thought Boston had good facilities for horseback riding?” Jamie asked. Bree and Claire exchanged glances but came out with it.

“Frank and I were either too busy with the university or the hospital so we never really got to take Bree out to spontaneous weekend trips.” Claire began to explain.

“Our trips are planned months in advance so everyone is free. We mostly went to historical sites or the beach for maximum relaxation but adventures like these didn’t happen often.” Bree followed.

Jamie looked unsure how to proceed based on their stories as it seemed half fun. Claire and Bree picked up on it and decided to continue on baby steps when it comes to telling Jamie details of their life the past 20 years.

“Maybe you can start teaching Bree how to ride later after lunch and we show her around the house” Claire pitched.

“Sounds like a plan!” Brianna agreed with a clap.

They proceeded on eating their pork chops while continuing with exchanging stories about Lallybroch. After lunch, they showed Bree to her room while they all freshened up and took a short nap.

Around 4:00 in the afternoon, they all went back to stables where Jamie introduced Bree to one of the mares, Jilly, gave a little lecture and then let her mount up. Claire was content watching on the side with a basket full of snacks for the afternoon.

“Alright, now, just try and be comfortable on the horse. Sit straight and relax. You know when they say that horses smell fear, it’s true” Jamie said to Bree. “Okay, I’m going to take you on a short walk around.” Brianna nodded and gently held on the reins.

Jamie took the horse for a walk around an open lawn and Brianna pretty quickly caught up with the rhythm. After 5 trots, Jamie put the horse on a gallop as a challenge and his daughter ran with it excellently.

“This is fun!” Bree called out to Claire.

“Wait till you dismount it then let me know again.” Claire joked. “But you’re doing great, sweetheart!”

After two hours on and off the horse, night was falling in and they decided to call it a day.

“I’ll go ahead and start dinner, hope you like carbonara. You two, take care of things around here.” Claire declared.

“I’ll walk her to the stables.” Brianna insisted and took the reins from her Da and walked Jilly back to the stables.

“I’ll follow you in a minute, Bree” Jamie said as Claire went towards him for a snuggle as they watched their daughter walk ahead.

“She’s a natural, Jamie” Claire whispered. “Just like her father”

“Don’t make me cry, Claire. But yes, she is” Jamie pulled Claire tighter and gave her a light kiss in the hair. “I always imagined how teaching and taking our children out on a horse would look like. Now, I don’t have to.”

“Aww, darling. It truly has been the best days and I know there is more to come.” Claire lifted her head and gave Jamie a quick kiss. “Now, go and teach our daughter how to rub down a horse and I’ll get dinner started.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #to begin again #to begin again AU #jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie x claire #brianna fraser #jamie x claire x bree #mia writes again after a long time #canon divergent AU

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lilzebub · 4 years ago

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The Here and Now (Through the Years CH2)

Summary: Five has returned, and no one expected the condition that he would be in. Can (Y/n) and Five navigate the major set backs, thwart the Apocalypse, and resume their happily ever after?

Five Hargreeves x F!reader Word count: 11k total

Warnings: TUA typical violence, angst, awkward interactions, brief mention of spicy time, brief description of depression Also posted on AO3!

She stared blankly at the young man that stood distressed on her porch. “Five…I….Hurry up, get inside.” Her hand darted out to grab the sleeve of his tailored blazer, and she quickly dragged him through the threshold. He awkwardly stood in the foyer of their house, with his hands shoved in the pockets of his shorts. “(Y/n) this is a nightmare. I’m an old man trapped in this body. Ever had growing pains and indigestion at the same time?” He glowered up at her. A quiet snicker escaped from her lips. “You think this is funny? Huh?”

The snicker sparked a roar of laughter that erupted deep from her belly, and Five could do nothing but stare blankly at her. He considered the last time he saw her looking genuinely this amused by something was the day of their wedding after they had tossed his Commission tracking device.

“I mean, no. It’s not funny. It’s just…ridiculous. I waited all this time. Counted all these days. And you show up here….like….” she gestures vaguely. “It’s absolutely absurd, and honestly, kind of unfair. Here is was, expecting my 100% normal, thirty year old husband to poof into my house today. And I get the awkward teenager slash old man version of you. This is too much.” She dramatically wiped tears from her eyes.

“Okay, are you done now?” Five stated frankly, with no hint of irritation. He opened his arms to her and she met his embrace, throwing her arms over his shoulders.

“It’s really hard to hug you like this. You lost a few inches in the fray, buddy.” She pressed a kiss onto the top of his head. He pulled away from her to protest, but she just pulled him back in tightly.

“Come on my grumpy little man. Let’s get you over to the Academy and see if your family can possibly help with this. They’re used to things outside of the ordinary.

The couple walked down the street, awkwardly meeting the glances of everyone around them. The uniform jacket was telling, and it was apparent that everyone was shocked to see the prodigal son of the Umbrella Academy, alive and in the flesh, looking exactly how he did nearly fifteen years ago. A man pushing a two seat baby stroller gave them a wide berth on the sidewalk, and gave (Y/n) a double take.

“(Y/n) (Y/L/M/N)?” He proclaimed, causing Y/n to screech to a halt. She turned to face the man, quickly glancing down at the stoller.

“Um, yes? It’s actually (Y/n) Hargreeves now, but yes, that’s me.” Realization dawned on her, and hit her in the face like a runaway freight train. “Uh, how are you, (ex F/n)?”

“I’m great! So great, it’s really fantastic to see you! I’m just on the way to surprise the wife at work, it’s her first week back after her maternity leave, and I know she’s missing the kiddos.” (Y/n) glanced down at the pair of cooing babies in the stoller. “And who’s this strapping young gentleman? I didn’t know you had a little brother.”

Five took an immediate offensive stance. “I’m Five Hargreeves, and I’m her HUSBAND.”

“Oh, God I’m sorry. I guess you just looked a little different the last time I saw you….At our, uh, or rather, your, uh. Wedding.” The young man stammered, and (Y/n) watched Five grow increasingly more irritated.

“Yep, Five is a time traveler extraordinaire. Just had a little mishap with his calculations. He’s not normally a teenager, or anything. Like, it’s not like that at all, I mean…God that sounds so weird. Sorry.” She was beginning to grow flustered, and no longer felt the need to explain herself. “It was nice seeing you, we’ve got to be going now.” Her arm linked around Five’s, as she began dragging him away.

“Well you couldn’t have possibly made that any more awkward,” Five fretted at her. “Bad enough you dumped him at the alter and now you had to explain how your husband, who I don’t know if I mentioned it already, but you DUMPED HIM FOR, is stuck in a teenage body.”

She whipped around him in front of him, staring him down. “Look, you don’t get to be angry at me for your mistake. It’s not my fault that you aren’t even old enough to DRIVE now.” “Well you could have driven if you had ever taken the time to learn how to drive a stick shift.” Five puffed up his chest to look tougher, but it was futile in his current form.

“You’re the one who was never around long enough to teach me how to do it.” He flinched, and she instantly felt a wave of guilt wash over her. “Five, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. We’re both just…tense right now. The world is ending, you’re hormonal and also crabby because you probably won’t get to take advantage of the senior citizen discount at Griddy’s today.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her. The moment he fell through the portal, and realizing his body was now in shambles due to his miscalculations, all he could think was how she would react. Would she faint? Would she promptly turn him away? Instead, she surpassed all of his expectations and was making jokes at his expense. He paused for a moment and grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. “You know, now more than ever, I’m so glad I married you. I can’t imagine anyone else being able to handle this curveball.”

“What can I say, Mr. Hargreeves. You had me on the hook for a long time. A little hiccup like this isn’t going to scare me off.” He smiled, lacing his fingers with hers as they continued down the street, the Umbrella Academy looming just a few blocks ahead.

The pair quietly entered the front door, only to be bombarded by all of the siblings at once. Five sulked behind his wife, as each of his family members warmly embraced her. Klaus picked her up and spun her around, quickly locking eyes with his brother. “Oh Jesus Christ, what do we have here?” Klaus murmured, gently placing (Y/n) down on the ground. “If it isn’t our dear little brother, alive and in the flesh…And perhaps a few inches shorter than last time we saw you, hm?”

Allison spoke next without giving Five a chance to respond, a look of shock on her face. “So I’m guessing something wasn’t quite right with your math, was it?”

Five pulled on the sleeves of his blazer. “You can say that again. I fucked up royally. That’s the least of our concerns now though. We only have a few days to stop the Apocalypse from happening, and I still have no idea how we’re going to do it.”

Days had passed, and the family was no closer to determining the catalyst of the Apocalypse than they were when Five and (Y/n) had returned to the Academy. They sat around the kitchen table on the day that Five had so loudly proclaimed would be the end of the world, all eyes sunken in from lack of sleep. Luther dragged his hands down his face, as he looked over at Five sulking over his late night cup of coffee. “Maybe it’s just inevitable. We should have had at least some clue by now.”

Allison scanned over the newspapers scattered along the table. “I mean, there’s nothing in the news that indicates anything out of the ordinary. Nothing political, no threats of nuclear warfare, literally nothing.”

“Or maybe it’s just not going to happen at all? I mean, today is the day isn’t it? Everything has been completely normal.” (Y/n) yawned, her forehead meeting the wooden table

“Maybe it’s you, little brother,” Klaus said, pausing to light the joint pressed between his lips. “I mean, think about it. You’re the only one who experienced the end of the world. Did you ever think, maybe it has something to do with you?” Vanya nodded her head in agreement.

“Klaus might actually have a point. Have you done anything you know of to alter the timeline at all?”

“Yeah, you know like, in time travel movies where someone accidentally kills a bug and it causes the entire future to change? Killed any bugs lately, Five? Or like, Presidents, or whatever it was you had to do with the Commission?” Klaus coughed.

Five thought for a moment, taking a sip of his coffee. “Not really, before I left the Commission, I only did one thing….” (Y/n) jerked her head up from the table, eyes widening. The family looked at him expectantly, then over to her. “You know, the whole crashing her wedding day thing. The head of the Commission, the Handler warned me she would kill us, but I didn’t really think much about it.” The group collectively groaned. Diego stabbed a blade into the table. “Well, these are the kinds of things you might want to tell us, Five. Your former boss literally threatening to murder you seems like a pretty good reason to be on high alert.”

A loud rap at the front door of the Academy put everyone on high alert. They all rose from their spots, quietly making their way towards the door. “Hey, maybe it’s the Apocalypse knocking. We can just ignore it, maybe they’ll think we aren’t home.” Klaus whispered, throwing the remains of his spent joint into a potted plant. Diego peeked out a window near the door. “It’s some blonde woman in a dress. Sound familiar?” He whispered, and Five immediately straightened his tie. “Yep, I’ll take this.” He moved towards the door to unlock it, coming face to face with the Handler.

“Good evening, Five…Assorted Hargreeves.” She flourished her hand, shoving past Five into the living room, depositing a large briefcase by the door. “And Mrs. Hargreeves, a pleasure to see you once again.” (Y/n) felt her heart tighten in her chest, recalling the last ill fated encounter with the woman, and the impossible choice she posed for the pair.

“Wish I could say the same,” (Y/n) scoffed. “Care to tell us why you’re here? You’re getting a bit too familiar with these unexpected housecalls.” The family gathered around her in a protective stance, and she felt the tightness in her chest dissipate.

“Well, I did advise you that I’d be back at a date of MY choosing to dispose of the pair of you, didn’t I?” The Handler towered over (Y/n) in her heels, frowning down at her.

Five shook his head. “That wasn’t part of the deal. I came back to the Commission, I did what you asked, and you sent me to that God-forsaken wasteland.”

She advanced towards Five. “Ah, yes, that much is true. But what I didn’t anticipate was you defying the odds. Do you know what the odds were that you’d be able to time travel back to any point in time to your wife?” She emphasized, venom dripping in her voice. “One in thirty million. Now, wouldn’t you say, the odds of that are simply astronomical?” Five looked over at (Y/n) and his family.

She paused, looking back at the family, then pointed her icy gaze to (Y/n). “You two couldn’t just leave well enough alone, could you?” The Handler smirked at the distressed boy, as she positioned herself in between him and his wife. “Did you really think I could allow you to take everything from me?”

“I didn’t do anything to you. I did my job, I did my time. I just want to live the rest of my life with my wife.” He glowered at her, as she chuckled.

“Five, tell me, why do you think I had such a vested interest in you and your boring little wife here, in your holy union, hm?” She gestured behind her. He shrugged. “I haven’t the inkiest, enough with the damn riddles, why don’t you fill us all in on why you’re so hell bent on killing us?”

The Handler nonchalantly looked at the gun in her hand, then turned towards (Y/n), cocking it in her direction. “It’s really nothing personal, dear. It’s about your baby. Specifically, the baby that you’re set to have in…oh…” She thought a beat, “four years, give or take. If I eliminate you now, the Apocalypse can resume right on schedule.” The family exhaled a collective gasp.

Klaus laughed, “Well, congratulations to my dear brother and his wife on their non-existent baby. But I have to ask, when did you get in the business of murdering babies?”

“Let me break it down for you. If Five had followed orders, he never would have married (Y/n). (Y/n) would have settled down with….that boring guy, what’s his name? Five would have continued working for the Commission, and everything would have been hunky dory. But the moment he defied his orders, the entire timeline changed. He and (Y/n) had their happily ever after, and eventually, (Y/n) will give birth to a beautiful, bouncing baby girl. Not just a girl though, the most powerful time traveler in history, in any timeline. With the inherited skills of her father, and with the complex ability of their mother to become a big flashing beacon in the space-time continuum, which might I add, didn’t seem like much until we determined Five could find her in ANY timeline under any circumstance, you have a recipe for someone powerful enough to overthrow the entire Commission, namely me. Because this child was born, the entire scenario for the Apocalypse was avoided completely, no matter what variables we changed, infinitely into the future. It just never happens. The only variable that changed was me. My entire life’s work, bypassed, like a bump in the road. The Apocalypse that I deemed absolutely necessary, gone, thanks to a single choice.”

Allison stared at the Handler incredulously. “So what you’re really saying, is you’re too selfish and drunk off power to give it up. Someone more suited to the job, who doesn’t even exist yet, is so much of a threat to you, that you’ll eliminate anyone involved?”

“Well, I was only going to eliminate (Y/n), I don’t particularly enjoy getting my hands messy. There would have been no greater delight than seeing Five suffer for his indiscretions; however, since the whole family is here, I might as well make a day of it.”

Chaos erupted in the expanse of the Umbrella Academy’s living room. (Y/n) wasn’t sure who cast the first stone, but a flurry of bullets began raining down on the Hargreeves family. Diego curved as many of the bullets as he could, as he ushered her towards the hallway. She craned her neck to peer over his shoulder, desperately trying to find Five in the fray, as she was shoved into a bedroom in the hallway, a gun being thrust into her hands by her brother-in-law. In defeat, she pressed herself against the wooden door, trying to hear anything at all, only to be met with the sounds of glass and furniture breaking, guns being fired, indiscernible shouts of her family fighting for their lives.

Gathering her resolve, she crept from the room, unable to stand not knowing what was occurring just beyond the walls. Gun outstretched in front of her, she quietly made her way down the hall, just as all of the fighting abruptly stopped.

“Where the hell did she go?” Vanya hissed, as the family peered around, puzzled. “We had her pinned down?”

Luther cautiously evaluated the rest of the family. “I don’t like this one bit. She wouldn’t just zap out of her, would she?” Allison looked towards the front door, noting the telltale briefcase that sat by the door. “She’s still here somewhere, she couldn’t get out without the briefcase.”

(Y/n) peeked around the corner glancing around at the scene before her. All of the lightbulbs in the room had been mostly shattered and the room was awash with the little light that shone in through the innumerable windows. In the dim light, chairs and tables could be seen upturned and scattered around the room.

“Five?” She called out weakly, in a desperate bid to get his attention. His gaze quickly turned towards her, and a look of terror overtook his features. A loud pop resounded through the space, and a searing pain shot through the center of her chest. Slowly, (Y/n) peered down, noting the slow stream of dark red that stained the front her shirt. Everything started to go black, as Five rushed towards her.

“What did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO?” He screamed at the Handler who stood smugly behind where (Y/n) had collapsed on the floor. Five removed his blazer and pressed the fabric to her steadily bleeding chest.

“Restoring order, that’s what, Five. Her being alive was a conflict of interest I suppose you could say. I think there’s going to be a little change of plans though, seeing the anguish on your face, I think that’s the best punishment I could ask for.” She glided past the family towards the briefcase, and no one moved.

“(Y/n) please stay with me, stay awake, you’re going to be fine.” Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, as he desperately fumbled with the compress on her chest. Her breath began to slow, as she reached up and pressed a hand to Five’s cheek. Klaus crouched down beside the pair, and placed his hand over Five’s.

“Five, I can feel her leaving. She isn’t going to make it.” Klaus whispered, remorseful. Five stood beside her, the space all around him glowing blue.

“I didn’t come all this way through time just to lose her.” He tightly shut his eyes, and the room began moving slowly in reverse, the Handler moving slowly backwards towards the clandestine hallway. (Y/n)’s crumpled form rose from the spot on the ground, the dark blood receding back into her body, as Five’s nose began bleeding profusely from his efforts. He felt himself weaken, as the scene resumed before him.

“Where the hell did she go?” Vanya hissed, looking towards Five who stood in his new spot near the hallway. “We had her pinned down?”

“She’s in the hallway,” he replied weakly. “She’s going to kill (Y/n). I just….reversed time by just a few minutes. We have to make sure she doesn’t kill her this time.” A moment later, (Y/n) peered around the corner. Five rushed forward with the last bit of strength he had left, pulling her into the living room and shoving her aside as he collapsed on top of her. The Handler revealed herself, looking thoroughly confused. The gun fell to her side. “Well, this is certainly odd. Did our boy just manipulate time here? So much power, so much wasted on a perfectly normal girl.”

Klaus strode forward, fists illuminated. “She’s not perfectly normal, she loves Five and that’s a feat all on its own. The kid’s hard to love, no doubt about that, but she does, and that’s worth saving.” In a flash, a barrage of tentacles burst forth from his chest, and the ghostly figure of Ben could be seen just beyond Klaus’s form. The Horror reached forth, grabbing onto the Handler’s limbs, gruesomely tearing her apart bit by bit. The family looked on in shock at the grisly scene, until there was nothing left of the Handler but a puddle of blood and gore, spewed on the floor and walls.

And just like that, the Handler was gone, ripped apart by otherworldly forces that seeped from Klaus’s body. The family stood, stark-still, covered in entrails, before erupting in fits of laughter. Luther swept Allison up in his arms, her shrieking delightedly. “I can’t believe that’s it. That it was just that easy. Klaus, I think dad might have been wrong about your powers being totally useless.”

Klaus’s hands were still shaking, as he peered down at them in disbelief. “That….bitch. I can’t believe she would have just killed (Y/n) to intentionally cause the Apocalypse. And (Y/n)…” he shot a glance over at her. “I can’t believe you were the key it all along.”

She hadn’t moved. The ringing in her ears had barely subsided, when she pressed her hands into Five’s chest to meet him face to face. His expression was barely readable, save for the telltale upturn of the corners of his mouth. The words came out so soft, the family could barely make it out. “Our baby? The Handler couldn’t handle the idea of being replaced…That’s why. That’s why they warned me we couldn’t be together. Why they tortured me, making me see you be with that asshole over and over again. If we were together, the Apocalypse would never even happen. I really ruined her timeline, didn’t I?” He chuckled, rolling over onto the bloody floor, wiping his nose of his own blood.

Diego walked across the room towards the phone, wiping his knives on his already bloodied pants. Vanya looked at him incredulously. “Diego what on earth are you doing? Is now really time to make a phone call?”

He picked up the phone and dialed quickly. “It is. I’m calling (Y/f/n). Knowing how close we were to the whole world ending, I’m not taking anymore chances.” (Y/n) turned to him, shocked. “You know, she’s been hung up on you for years, Diego. I think everyone deserves a chance at a happy ending, now.” Five stood and stretched his hand down to hers and pulled her up. He carefully snaked his arm around her waist, pressing a chaste kiss on her bare and bloodied shoulder. “Even us, Five.”

He smiled, peering up at her through his dark hair. “Especially us, Mrs. Hargreeves. Especially us.”

Luther lurched over to the liquor cabinet, and sighed. “You know, I know it’s usually Klaus that suggests we start drinking, but I propose we go ahead and pop one of these nice bottles and celebrate tonight.” And they did. Vanya pulled out her violin, creating lively, happy music for the group as they danced and laughed around the living room. Allison stole a not so secret kiss from Luther, and the family loudly teased them, secretly grateful that they were no longer hiding their affections after so many years. Klaus was able to manifest Ben once more, who although he couldn’t drink, still engaged in the party just as much as any living person could. Diego had snuck out quietly sometime after his phone call, and (Y/n) hoped with all hope that he was finally going to apologize for being a such a jerk to her closest friend.

Five had pulled her into what she could only describe as an “awkward middle school style slow dance”, with her arms clasped loosely around his shoulders as they swayed side to side. “You know”, Five started, “my father taught all of us how to ballroom dance as kids.”

(Y/n) laughed, pulling him in a bit closer. “Is there anything you can’t do, Five? You’re remarkable.”

“Well obviously I’m not great at time travel, but I think those days might be behind me. At least, after I figure out how to get my normal body back.” He frowned. “(Y/n), have you considered what we’re going to do if I’m stuck like this? Permanently?”

She considered him for a moment. “Truthfully, no. I hadn’t really considered that to be a possibility. I mean, it would be kind of nice, you’d be able to take care of me when I get old and senile.” He pushed his foot forward and tripped her, easily causing her to lose her balance in her tipsy state . “HEY! Come on, Five, you know I’m kidding. I think…..I think we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it, okay? I love you. I love you no matter what. Even if we can’t really….do the thing normal married people do. It’ll be okay.” She yawned, slowing her movements.

“I admire your persistent optimism. But my wife appears to be growing weary. Want to go relax in the library while I go over some of my old notes?” She nodded, craning down to place her head on his shoulder. “Alright, let’s go.” He gently pulled her arm across the back of his shoulders, and they made their way towards the stairs, calling out their goodnights to the family as they went.

The math was right there all along, in one of his oldest, most worn down notebooks. In disbelief, he reread his notes over and over, and was sure he couldn’t have possibly gotten it wrong. (Y/n) was dozing off in the plush arm chair, and he took a moment to admire her: all of the stress from the impending doom was gone. No tell-tale gunshot wound, no signs of excessive blood-loss. Her shoulders were no longer tense, the space between her eyes no longer creased. A peaceful expression had fallen over her, as though she would be perfectly content to live out her days in that chair with Five’s company, illuminated only by the small lamp in the middle of the table.

He drew a large red circle around the offending equation, and rose from his spot. He peered down at her snoozing form, and ran his hand through her hair. Careful not to wake her, he placed the notebook on the arm of the chair and strode quietly towards the door, knowing what he had to do.

He whispered something softly to himself, towards the empty hallways of the Academy.

The ocean waves were breaking softly along the shore, now littered with seashells after an afternoon rainstorm. The only chaos that remained was the wind that whipped through her hair, now unruly and wild from the rain. She turned around and saw him standing there, frozen in time with a grin on his face. Everything moved in slow motion as she ran towards him, crashing into his embrace. His palms rested on her cheeks, capturing her in a passionate kiss, until a small voice interrupted them.

“Mommy? Daddy?” She turned to peer down at the source of the small voice, to be met by a tiny girl with dark hair and verdant green eyes. Five bent down, finding purchase under the child’s arms, hoisting her to his chest. (Y/n) gingerly kissed the child’s forehead, then pressed another dizzying kiss to Five’s lips. He whispered words against her flesh that she had read so long before, words that were so real, she’s certain she couldn’t have dreamed them. “If something happens, just know I’ll find you eventually. I promise.”

(Y/n) woke with a start, knocking something off the arm of the chair. She slowly reached down, peering down at the foreign numbers and figures, outlined in bold red, then glanced across the room. Five was no longer situated at the table, and she began to panic. The woman leapt from her chair, sprinting down the hallway, shouting at the top of her lungs.

“Five? Five where are you?!” The pounding of her feet and the thundering of her pulse led her straight to his childhood room’s door. Before she could connect with the doorknob, a flash of blue illuminated the space beneath the door, accompanied by the telltale “pop” of her husband attempting some sort of jump. She flung the door open wide, only to be met once again with darkness. The room was empty: Five was gone. Again.

Weeks had passed, maybe even months at this point. (Y/n) wasn’t sure. No longer having the list of dates to guide her now that the Apocalypse had been avoided, she had, for the most part, lost herself in time. She could only assume it was midday, judging by the light that cascaded through the windows. Padding down the halls of their still empty home, she stopped to stare at herself in the bathroom mirror: her eyes had grown weary, and her hair was a matted mess, sticking up in all directions. Gently, she prodded at her ribs, which protruded slightly more than usual, a testament to her terrible diet since Five had…..Disappeared? That didn’t feel like the right word for it. Someone can’t disappear when this is their entire modus operandi. The absences were something she had grown accustomed to, but this time felt entirely different. There was no carefully curated list of dates, handwritten by Five. Nothing to look forward to. Nothing to expect. Not even a “goodbye” or “I’ll see you soon” to soothe her addled brain, only the words echoed in her dream from the note he wrote her as a child.

Starting the shower, she went through the motions. “This is what he would want me to do, right?” She thought to herself. “He would want me to try to be normal. Whatever that means.” Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. “Come on, don’t cry. You cried it all out the first week. You’re too dehydrated to cry anymore.” Throwing her clothes haphazardly across the bathroom, she climbed into the shower.

And there she sat. She sat on the floor of the walk-in shower until the water ran cold. When she finally collected herself from the floor and wrapped herself in an oversized towel, she could have sworn she caught the wafting scent of coffee, but she waved it off as wishful thinking. (Y/n) glided towards the kitchen, a towel-clad phantom of a person haunting her home. Just beyond the threshold, she stopped dead in her tracks. A full pot of coffee sat brewed on the countertop, steam floating towards to ceiling. For a moment her breath left her lungs. Clutching her towel to her tightly, she raced towards the living room where Five Hargreeves, looking about fifteen years older than their last encounter, sat on the couch. The moment he laid eyes on her, he moved towards her as fast as his legs would carry him, stopping short as he saw her chest heaving in what he could only assume to be rage.

“I can explain. I can explain everything.” Five spoke calmly, as though he were trying to persuade an animal to not attack him. “I had the equations right years ago, I just didn’t realize it before. I was such a cocky asshole kid back then. I knew I could make this jump, it had to be just the right moment in time to get it perfect, to get me back to my normal body. Back to you.”

“Are you….Are you really home? For good? Just like this?” Her breathing was still erratic, knuckles turning with how tightly she squeezed the towel.

“For good.” He nodded, taking a step closer.

“And no more big jumps? No more accidentally getting stuck in the wrong body?”

“Nope. No more Commission. No more assassinations. I think it’s time to grow old…again. The right way.” He reached towards her, his palms resting on her shoulders.

“And what’s the right way, Five?” She closed her eyes, relishing in the warmth of his hands.

“Together. With you.”

She moved so quickly Five was afraid he may not be able to grab her in time. She darted forward, throwing her arms and legs around him, nearly knocking him to the ground. He supported her weight and held her flush against him. A sob erupted from her against the side of his neck. “Promise me, Five. Promise you won’t ever leave me like that again. I was so scared you were gone. For good. That you would be lost and I would have no idea.” She grabbed his face, kissing him in earnest over and over, her lips salty from the broken dam of tears that ran down her face. “God, I never want to stop kissing you. It feels like I haven’t been able to in ages.”

Five felt his emotions getting the better of him, and thought for a moment that he may cry. “You know I was always going to make it back to you. My lighthouse.” He smiled against her kiss, returning it with equal fervor.

“Take me to bed, Five. I think we need to make up for lost time, no pun intended.”

#fivehargreevesxreader fivehargreeves #the umbrella academy #tua #romance #angst

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rigelmejo · 4 years ago

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august study routines/goals

In practice, my study routine this month hasn’t gone quite as expected. Here’s the layout of it this month, in reality:

Studying flashcards with anki - goal is to keep increasing my vocabulary, in the context of sentences. Primarily: going through Spoonfed Chinese. Optional: going through HSK vocab deck (has example sentences and character meaning breakdowns which is nice), and going through Grammar vocab deck (I’m rarely touching this one). This one has been mostly review, with reinforcement of my listening skills, reading skills, word recognition skills, exposure to correct usage/grammar, and some new words. The farther I get, the more genuinely new words I’ll hit. I like the structure of this. I’m doing it instead of the memrise reviews mostly - I still do the memrise reviews occasionally, since they cover some frequent words not in HSK. Eventually this will surpass review and become mostly new material, so I plan to continue doing this for a few months.

Reading immersion - goal is to read through some graded readers, some novels, increasing in difficulty, counting chapters read. So far this goal is successfully being met. (I’ve read through Mandarin Companion Sherlock, started Mandarin Companion Journey to the Center of the Earth, and read 1 chapter of MoDu by Priest). Making this a specific goal is definitely helping push me to read more. I am noticing language skill related improvements that are at least partly because of me reading more. And... I did literally get through a chapter of a Priest novel, only looking a handful of words up to follow the gist main ideas. So I think increased reading is definitely helping me out. A possibly unintended side effect - I’ve noticed I’m somewhat getting a bigger active vocabulary of words I can spontaneously think of, although my usage of them in sentences is still often weird. As a branch off of this (and the audio immersion, and production of tones) I’m playing around with the app M Mandarin and it’s comics/lessons - they sort of count as reading immersion. But I don’t plan to count them unless I read maybe - 5 comics? Since they’re relatively short.

Show watching immersion - goal is to simply improve reading comprehension/speed, watching shows with no english subs. So far, this goal is being met somewhat. I have watched maybe 5-6 episodes so far this month. I am noticing significant progress since December-January comprehension wise. I would like to do more, but realistically the reading immersion covers similar skills and the shows I WANT to watch lately are all dual subtitled (which I am NOT counting for this).

Audio immersion - goal is to listen to audio often, with the intent to improve listening comprehension and get better at recognizing words I’ve studied/seen before. This is actually going pretty well. I’m not measuring it, just doing it when desired. I’m experimenting with ‘repetitive listening’ but I’ve listened nothing anywhere close to 50-100 times. I listened to Guardian Audiobook chapter 1 and noticed improvements in comprehension a bit each time I listen, and I listened to 2HA audiodrama episode 1 a few times with similar improvements noticed. I also have audio file chunks of the Spoonfed Chinese sentences (with english translations) - which I’m playing a few times, sort of to ‘audio-only’ review those sentences. This last part I’m finding very useful for cementing new words/grammar patterns into my mind so I can recognize them easier. Overall, this task is really fun and easy to incorporate, so I’ll probably keep adding it in general.

Production improvement - goal is to produce tones better. This was not an intended goal for the month, or even for a while into the future. I have some language partners now and I kind of need to talk more. My grammar is still YIKES and I am not planning to actively improve it as a goal for a while (when I do - I’ll focus on reading Basic Patterns of Chinese Grammar, doing the Grammar anki deck, and writing more based on those example sentences). Talking wise - since I am talking more, I might as well improve my tones so I pronounce better. Not a goal I intended for the month, but I’m focusing on it. I have noticed that as an unintentional side effect, my active vocabulary is increasing - more words are more easy for me to spontaneously say and recognize, the drawback being of course that I am still using them in incorrect ways since I don’t know their proper contexts/grammar well enough.

---

What I had planned to focus on, when August started, was just vocab increasing and immersion in reading/shows (focusing on reading chunks of text, and reading speed with subtitles). I did not intend to add audio listening practice, and tone pronunciation practice, but here I am. I do think that, thankfully, these two study goals are pretty easy to tack onto a plan and keep doing (audio practice is just whenever I want, and tone practice is simply me working harder to accurately repeat the sound of new words I learn/sentences I study). Meanwhile... I think I’d planned to do some grammar and hanzi study... those two goals are being moved to farther out in the future.

A typical day’s study routine:

Do Spoonfed flashcards during down time in the day - may or may not finish. If I finish, and want to keep doing cards, then I do some HSK vocab cards, and if desired some Grammar cards.

Listen to some audiobook/audiodrama/spoonfed-audio-file while exercising or driving or doing work, 5 minutes -1 hr a day, widely varies.

If I have time that day, try to read a chapter of a story, OR watch a show in chinese subs only. If my time is limited, try to prioritize reading. In the end, I do whatever I’m in the mood for.

When doing anki, try to pronounce some words/sentences as best I can like the audio. When reading, if the file has audio (pleco, talkify, M Mandarin, etc) then I attempt to pronounce it like the audio as best I can. Once in a while - when talking with a language partner, work on this with someone able to help me notice the mistakes.

Takes a minimum of 10-30 minutes active study (either all anki, some anki and some reading), and 5 min - 1 hr passive study (just listening to audio). Can take longer, like 1-2 hours, if I do all anki possible, then read minimum of 1 chapter, then also watch a full episode (20-40 minutes anki, 20-40 minutes reading, 40 minutes - 1 hour episode). Again, passive study of audio listening is just whenever I can fit it into the day.

#august study plan #study plan #goals #on the upside im not grinding flashcards anymore #which means this is much more #sustainable for me rn #i could keep doing this plan for a few months #im surprised pronunciation/audio got so important #but i guess there's certainly a lacking in skill #i needed to work on anyway

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helixwaltzrevisited · 5 years ago

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Mr. Randall’s 1st Favor Quest

Transcript begins:

Eliza (E): Magda, we have guests.

Magda (M): Huh?

E: The Mr. Randall from Rayorka...

E: Err... How can he forget to inform us in advance? You haven’t combed your hair today?

M: It doesn’t matter~ I think Mr. Randall wouldn’t mind it~ He said last time that I’m a beauty even if I don’t have jewelry~

E: No! I won’t allow! He can wait for a while!

M: Oh...

E: Magda, you have to remember... Most of the lines that men tell can’t be taken serious, because it doesn’t reflect their real thoughts.

M: Hmm... I will have to keep that in mind.

E: So... Dress up with this headgear to impress our guest.

Cut to living room

M: Sorry for keeping your waiting (sp) for such a long time, Mr. Randall.

Randall (R) (shocked): ...

R: Miss Magda... You look amazing... the dazzling brillance, the soft moves, are you really a mortal being?

M: ... (He starts again!)

M: Mr. Randall... Why are you paying us a visit today?

R (shocked): ...

M: ...Mr. Randall?

R: ...Ah! I’m sorry. I was too fascinated by you that I didn’t hear.

M: ...

R: Cough. In fact, I come today to ask you to do me a favor.

R: I’d like to invite Miss Magda to be my guide and show me around Finsel.

M: Want me to be your guide? But... Why me?

R: Although I’m new here, I’ve stayed for a short time. During this period, I’m busy dealing with all kinds of people from the social circle. It’s so tiresome.

R: I believe there must be some place more interesting in Finsel, where I won’t be surrounded by perfume, fancy dresses, suspicion and schemes.

R: And you, Miss Magda. As far as I know, you are a special noble lady who has a large number of civilian friends.

R: So it would be an honor to have you be my guide!

M: Mr. Randall, where did you hear these rumors about me...

R: Ah? The rumors... Rebecca told me a lot~

M: ...I see.

M: (It seems this gentleman and Rebecca know each other very well.)

M: (Maybe I can know a lot about Randall from her next time.)

R: Miss Magda?

M: Huh? Well, okay. It is also my honor to be the guide of Mr. Randall.

R: That’s great~~

R: So where do we start today?

M: Hmm, let’s start from the nobility area.

AT SLUMS

M: Mr. Randall, here is... the slums of Finsel. Please watch your steps.

Randall: Ah... I don’t think there is such a place in the Amber city.

M: I have the same feeling when I came here for the first time.

R: Is there always a corner where has no light?

Hosta (H): This young man looks new to Finsel?

R: This beautiful lady~

H: Save your flattery, young man~ Seems like you are rich, do you want to have fun in my shop?

R: Yes, exactly!

H (surprised): .....what?

R (happy): The glance you throw makes your charm bloom in an instant! The seemingly random stance puts a special emphasis on what you are most proud of! What’s more, since the first second we met, your eyesight has scanned me from head to toe. Though I know you are assessing me I still can’t help feeling at ease and enjoying your...

H: ...

H: Magda

M: ...Yes!

H: What’s going on with the man you brought here?

M: I... I don’t know?

H: Uh... you must have had a hard time.

H: The strange men that the aristocratic lady has to deal with might not be less than those who come to our club...

M: Ah? Ah?

AT THE CHURCH

R: Is this the Sky Goddess Church in Finsel?

R: Although it only has a small piece land in the city, it makes people feel calm.

M: Because the mainstream belief in Finsel is still “The Saint” so there are not so many people who follows (sp) the Sky Goddess...

R: I’ve heard about this. As a Rayorca people (sp) who’s relatively lacking of religious knowledge, I really want to ask you a question. Do you think there is any difference between different (it is cut off here)

Options: Same or Different

M: I don’t think there is much difference...

M: Belief is how people find emotional satisfaction.

R: Although this is not a particularly new statement, it is still great to hear it from a noble lady like you!

M: Ahh...? Is that so?

R: Hahahaha~~~ Ok, let’s go to the next place.

AT THE GATE

R: No matter how many times you look at it, the streets and buildings of the aristocratic district of Finsel always make me feel magnificent.

R: Ah, is your foot still hurting?

M: Huh? My feet?

R (dismayed): Uh... it seems you have not opened the small gift that I sent you earlier...

M: ....Oh! I am sorry! I really forgot it!

R: No need to apologize, my little lady. Anyway, that thing is just gift (sp). I really hope it can free your feet from the pain of high heels.

M: According to the description of Mr. Randall, it seems to have amazing effect (sp). What on earth is it?

R: It is the insole.

M: Huh?

R: Different from the previous insoles, it is a perfect insole that embodies the latest technology of Rayorca, the product created to protect the ladies’ tender feet!

M: (Mr. Randall suddenly gets excited!)

R: If possible, I want all the noble ladies to try this insole!

R: However, according to my previous communication with the aristocracy of Finsel, it may not be easy.

M: Ah? What does it mean...?

R: Many people feel that shoes and insoles are very private things, and even think it’s rude to accept gifts related to the feet from others- for example, me.

R: What’s more the insole doesn’t sound ‘elegant’ at all, isn’t it? (sp)

M: I don’t think so...

R: So Miss Magda, you are a very special noble lady~~~~

M: But you are right. The aristocrats of Finsel are (supposed to be areN’T?) good at accepting new things. Even the merchants wife could surpass them on that.

R: The key element is luxury, rare, and boosting their identity!

R: Sorry, I suddenly got excited. However, this is the job of a market researcher.

R: Understand the needs of customers. You have to understand what they are in need of, sometimes they don’t even realize that they need it.

R: Come on, Miss, Magda, where is the next location?

M: Next place, how about going to church?

M: Phew... here’s the market of Finsel, Mr. Randall.

Randall: Quite a bustling commercial street, there is no room for expansion along the street. I really like this bustling atmosphere. It makes me feel full of energy.

R (happy): Oh, by the way, thank you for accompanying me for so long!

R: Please wait a moment here~

M: Ah? He went across the street to the opposite side?

Civilian Man: Fresh juice! Bubble juive of Rayorca! Let the cool juice quench your thrist!

R: Excuse me~ Please give me two bubble juice!

C: Okay!

M: Mr. Randall ran back again...

R: Miss Magda~ Here you are. I didn’t expect to find the Rayorca-style bubble juice here. How amazing!

M: Ah, thank you~

M: (He even handed me the bubble juice with a handkerchief. Is he worrying about staining my gloves? Mr Randall seems to be very considerate.)

M: (Although mother asked me not to try the street drink, for she thinks it doesn’t fit in with my noble identity.)

M: (It’s so delicious!)

M: In other words, what does Mr. Randall’s company do?

R (happy): Hmm... the major goal of our company is making women live in a comfortable and free way.

R: Specifically, it is a company that designs and sells female products.

M: That is to say... Mr. Randall came to Finsel on behalf of the company?

R: You can also understand it that way. If we we describe it like a battlefield I am like a scout.

R: There are many things that need to be done.

R: ...? At the other end of the street?

M: What happened?

R: Miss Magda! Come here!

R: A carriage rushes towards us?!

Coachman: Watch out!

Civ Woman: Ah---!

M: The carriage crashes into a girl and she falls onto the ground!

Boy: What’s going on with this carriage! It’s too dangerous!

Noble C: I don’t know! The horse suddenly went out of control~1

Girl: What a jokes! You’ve knocked people down!

Woman: My dress...

M: Ah... it has torn a hole in her dress.

R: ...

M: Ah? Mr. Randall goes over there.

R: Lady, are you okay?

Woman (sad): I... I am fine... I can walk.

R: Wait a moment... I can’t let you leave in this way.

M: (Mr. Randall took off his coat? Covering the girls dress that was worn out because of the accident.)

Woman (smiling): Young Master, you-

R: You’d better go see a doctor.

Woman (sad): This jacket looks very expensive! I can’t... I can’t afford to pay for it if it is stained!

R: ...Ugh.

R: Listen. I don’t think it has any problems for you to wear a broken skirt. I am doing this just to protect you against ill-disposed eyes. Do you understand?

R: In my opinion, this is the most important role of this jacket at this moment and it has nothing to do with its value.

Woman: ... Young master... you... what are you...

M: Ah, the girl ran away with a limp.

R: ...

R: Did I do something wrong?

M: ...She’s just startled.

R (shocked): Startled?

M: In fact, I was a little scared too, I thought you were going to rush out to intercept the carriage.

M: Good thing the carriage stopped on its own...

R (blushing): Ah... If it didn’t stop on its own I would indeed do that. In this regard, as long as it’s something related to women, my body will react before my mind.

R(blushing): ...I’ve already been criticized a lot for it in Rayorca.

M: Hahahaha~ I think it’s cute~

Randall (shocked): Ah?

M: Really even though in the beginning I thought Mr. Randall was just saying it for show.

M: Now it seems to me that you sincerely feel that all girls deserve to be praised and protected.

R (shocked): ...

M: But if it’s truly like that then is Mr. Randall the greatest love, or heartless playboy...

R (dismayed): Actually, I myself don’t know. I came to Finsel because I wanted to find the answer to this question.

R: But no matter what happens, it is a pleasure to tour with you, Miss Magda.

M: This is my pleasure too~

QUEST END

M: Phew, how tiring... I spent the entire day walking around Finsel. Right, I haven’t opened the present that Mr. Randall gave me before. Eh? The material of this show cushion is so strange... It’s soft and kneadable! How amazing!

E: Magda, what are you doing?

Madga: Ah, Mother~ Look at this~ If you place it in your shoes your feet won’t hurt anymore~

E (surprise): What is this?

M: Mr. Randall gave this to me. He said it was for liberating my feet.

E: Is he the gentleman whom you accompanied for the entire day today... The Rayorcan market inspector?

M: Yes, it’s him. He always has a lot of strange little presents, and is very good to girls. Today in the market, he even--

E: Magda.

M: Ah?

E: ...This thing can really stop your feet from hurting?

M: Yes... That is what Mr. Randall said.

E (disappointed): Sigh...

M: Mother, don’t worry. Even if my feet don’t hurt anymore I won’t forget that I’m dancing on the edge of a knife.

E: ... Sigh, my good daughter.

#Helix Waltz #Randall #Magda Ellenstein #eliza ellenstein #hosta #favor quests

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writerunsolved · 6 years ago

Text

The Drunken Mistake - Ch. 8

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: F/M

Fandom: Real Person Fiction

Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Reader

Genres: Fluff and Humor

Language: English

Chapters: 8/?

Summary: You're a young up-and-coming singer based in London who has just released her first album.

After a wild night at the VMAs and some heavy partying and drinking at the afterparty, you write and publish a drunken tweet about a certain celebrity and one of their friends. You only realise what you've done the next day when a slew of texts and calls wakes you up to a dreadful but expected hangover. You immediately delete the tweet, but you're left to deal with the consequences. A public apology would probably be enough to make everything go away if you hadn't been invited to a movie premiere where said celebrity is most certainly going to be.

You decide that the best course of action will be to try and avoid them, but your plans almost never go the way you want them to.

Author’s Note: Just a reminder that, because of Tumblr’s block of links - even internal ones - I can’t link to my previous and next chapters anymore. So be extra sure not to miss any updates by following this blog or subscribing to this fic on AO3 (link in the bio!).

Once again, your reblogs are an essential instrument for your favourite creators’ works to get around and reach a wider audience!

This one took a while to get fished out of whatever place it is I get my muse, but it did come out in the end. Fun fact: with this chapter we've officially surpassed the length of Animal Farm by George Orwell and we're a few words away from Charlie And The Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl!

Thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy!

Previous chapters can be found on this blog.

Chapter Eight - Whispered Words And Jumping Sparks

You spent the next couple of days alternatively nursing your sister’s broken heart, and trying - without much success - to understand what happened. Amelia, for her own part, couldn’t do much more than cry and eat ice cream. Ben and she hadn’t been together long, but the relationship had seemed serious enough that you could perfectly understand your sister’s sorrow. In the last period, they’d even been considering getting a house together, which was one of the reasons you were struggling to guess what could have been grave enough to end the relationship.

You didn’t press the issue, Amelia seemed far from keen on sharing the details, so you just made sure he hadn’t laid a hand on her and that she was settled in as comfortably as you could make her. To you, Ben didn’t seem that kind of man, and it luckily turned out he wasn’t, but you could never be too careful.

From the little information you’d managed to gather, Amelia had gone home after work on Friday and she’d had some kind of argument with Ben - about what you didn’t know - after which she’d hastily decided to pack a few clothes and move to your house until she could be sure Ben wouldn’t go to hers again. However, Ben had easily guessed where he would be able to find her and, by Sunday morning, he’d come knocking at your door.

You were still completely clueless about the reason for their falling out when Ben profusely apologised to Amelia, saying that he was wrong and that he had made a huge mistake by hurting her and making her believe he didn’t love her anymore. He insisted that he’d been stupid, acting like a scared child and that he wanted to work hard so that she could forgive him. For her part, Amelia had made him promise that he would talk about his problems next time so that they could solve them together, and had accepted to let him accompany her home. She’d quickly gathered the few things she’d brought and reassured you that she was fine, with the promise to let you know when she got home.

You were briefly tempted to pull Ben aside before they left to ensure that he wouldn’t hurt your sister again, but he turned to you before you had a chance to do so and said with a regretful expression on his face, “I’m sorry,” so you decided to drop it and let them go on their way.

You closed the door behind them and let out a sigh of relief. Now that you were alone, you felt like you’d been keeping your breath for the whole time Amelia had been there. Seeing your usually cheerful sister in such pain had made you restless, and hidden worry had been quietly eating at you for the whole time.

You looked around at the empty house and wondered what to do. Amelia had completely disrupted any plans you might have made for the weekend - not that you’d had any in the first place - and with Monday off too, you found yourself at a complete loss for how to fill your free time. You resolved to make some comfort food after the crisis and to text Tom to let him know what had happened. You’d completely neglected your usual conversation in favour of assisting your sister, but he’d been worried too when you’d left the café and it only seemed right to make him privy to what was going on.

You entered the kitchen and started rummaging through your fridge and cabinet, determined to make a bowl of hot soup. The weather had finally turned for the worst the previous day, and an icy rain had been tapping incessantly at the windows of your apartment since the night. You managed to find some fresh pumpkin that you’d picked up during the week, so you took it out and gathered the ingredients to make pumpkin soup, leaving them on the kitchen island while you texted Tom before starting on the food preparations.

“Hey,” you wrote, “I’m sorry I didn’t text sooner, my sister just left and I’ve been away from my phone to be with her.”

You put your phone aside and started cutting and peeling the pumpkin. A few minutes later, you received an answer.

“Hi, I’m so glad to hear from you,” he replied, “Is everything okay? How is your sister?”

“She’s better now, she and her boyfriend had an argument and she crashed at mine.” You distractedly texted back, while continuing to work on your food. The exchange went back and forth like that for a while.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, is she going to be okay?”

“Well, the thing is,” you wrote, “He actually came and apologised and I guess they’re back together now?”

“That sure is a rollercoaster… a short one,” he joked, “But a rollercoaster nonetheless.”

You couldn’t help smiling down at your phone, grateful for the attempt to cheer you up. “Haha I know, right? But I’m relieved they sorted things out...” You went back to the food briefly, then sent more, “Anyway, how’s your weekend going?”

“Pretty uneventful,” he replied, “I met my younger sister for breakfast in the morning, but I don’t have plans for the rest of the day. What about you?”

“My sister was kind of unexpected, but aside from that, I didn’t really have anything planned to start with. And I have tomorrow off too, so that’s going to be a lot of free time with nothing to do.”

“Oh, wow! Long weekend? Is anything happening tomorrow?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. Nina’s (my manager) parents are visiting from France and she’s giving me a day off too. I’m actually meeting them for dinner tomorrow.”

“That sounds nice,” he wrote back. You kept stirring the quickly-cooking pumpkin and after a few seconds, he wrote again, “So no plans at all for tonight?”

“Nope, nada, zilch.”

“Would you like to go to dinner? My treat.”

Your heart missed a beat or two, his invite both unexpected and exciting. You took a deep breath and turned off the heat, gathering your composure. Then you finally texted back, “I’d like that :) but if I remember correctly, it’s my turn to pay.”

You grabbed a bowl from the cabinet above the sink and made to pour the creamy liquid into it. When your phone vibrated again, you looked away from your hands for just a second, trying to peer at the notification preview and in doing so, spilt some of the bright orange soup on the marble countertop of your kitchen island. You cursed and hastened to put the small pot back on the stove while you grabbed a couple of tissues to clean up the stain, ultimately unable to see what Tom had replied.

When you finally managed to get a hold of your phone, you saw that he’d written, “That’s true in theory, but I’m the one inviting you so etiquette dictates I’m the one who pays,” accompanied by a winky face.

You smirked and wrote back, “Sigh… I can sense a losing battle, so I’ll let it go this time...” followed by, “But I have a good memory.”

He sent back an open-mouthed smiling face, then asked, “Any cuisine preferences?”

“Is it my turn to choose?” you asked him in turn, buying time while you thought about it.

“Why not, I was the one to choose Mama Thai so I guess it’s only fair.”

“How gentlemanly,” you joked, still unsure. Then, you remembered that Nadia had been raving about what she claimed to be the best vegetarian restaurant in the whole of London. Before he answered, you added, “Actually, I might have a place in mind.”

You left your house just past 6:30 that evening, having agreed to meet on location at 7:15 PM. The rain had thankfully let up earlier in the afternoon, but it wouldn’t have mattered either way seen as you were going to take the subway to the meeting spot. The restaurant Nadia had been talking about wasn’t too far from King’s Cross station, you’d texted her asking for the name during your conversation with Tom and had reported back to him to make the arrangements to meet. You would have to take the same tube line as when you went to work, and it would take you around half an hour to get there.

You’d kept texting Tom through your lunch and for a couple more hours after that and, when you’d gotten off the phone, you’d looked up the restaurant to decide on an outfit. You’d ended up selecting a fairly casual ensemble composed by a peachy tan silk shirt half-tucked into a pair of light blue mid-rise skinny jeans. You completed the look with a pair of black suede boots and your trusted mid-thigh black coat which you used almost every day. You were strangely aware of Linda’s absence this time, and you almost missed her irreverent opinion and determination to do your makeup, especially when you finally made up your mind and decided to forgo it entirely.

You thought you might have run late when your hair-drier had suddenly stopped working, but you managed to borrow your neighbour Laura’s - who was thankfully home - and you left your house almost perfectly on time if a few minutes later than you’d planned to.

Nevertheless, you arrived at the restaurant a little earlier than anticipated and resolved to wait for Tom outside, when you saw that he was already waiting for you a few steps away from the entrance. He was listening intently to what you supposed was a call on his phone, distractedly looking down on the ground and adjusting a fold on his shirt through his opened coat every few seconds without much thought. You approached him slowly, making time to take him in and unwilling to interrupt the call. You could see his mouth move but you weren’t close enough to hear what he was saying, but you did hear the surprised thrill of a laugh at whatever the person on the other end had said.

You felt tender warmth bloom in your chest. Then, for a split second, a wave of anxiety washed over you, like a portent of fear and danger, but the feeling was gone before you could put your finger on it, leaving behind the prick of confusion. You brushed off the strange sensation, determined to enjoy the evening.

When you finally reached him, Tom was putting his phone away into his pocket and lifting his eyes. He spotted you to his left and greeted you with a sweet smile, turning his entire body towards you and immediately going in to kiss you on both cheeks. You reciprocated the gesture instinctively, your body allowing no time at all for hesitation to settle in.

“Hi!” you blurted, a little louder than you’d intended. His smile widened. You got your voice under control and spoke again, “Sorry for making you wait.”

“It’s no problem at all. I only just got here myself,” he reassured you. “I’m so glad we could meet again,” he paused for a second. His smile turned shy and he hesitantly added, “You look gorgeous.”

“I- I...” you stuttered, at loss for words. You felt like your face was on fire. You hoped with your entire being that your cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Thank you,” you finally mumbled, returning his smile.

“You’re very welcome,” he replied. Then he gestured to the door and asked, “What do you say we go in?” You nodded, he pulled the door open and waited for you to enter before following behind you. You hurried inside, surreptitiously touching one of your reddened cheeks, internally chastising yourself for your embarrassment.

As soon as the door closed behind Tom, a blonde woman wearing a black polo shirt with the name of the restaurant stitched on the chest in thick red thread approached you. “Table for two?” she asked, looking between you.

“Yes, please,” was Tom’s reply.

“Please follow me,” she smiled politely, then turned around and started walking towards a row of tables overlooking the street outside.

You followed closely behind, zigzagging through occupied tables, Tom at your side.

Soon enough, you got to your table. You and Tom stopped, while the waitress continued past you to a small wooden structured pushed to the wall where some cutlery and glasses were kept, along with various condiments and a stack of menus. She grabbed two and got back to you, settling them down between you and Tom. He thanked her, and then she was gone.

You took off your coat and sat down, looking around.

The place was a spacious room with tables of different styles, unified by the same colour palette. High windows surrounded two sides of the restaurant, offering a comforting look at the eerie glow of the nightlife outside. Alongside the windows, the tables were higher and the seats consisted of dark wooden stools you were grateful not to have been seated at. The rest of the seatings were arranged in two more rows, one of which was separated from the main corridor of small light beige tables by ornate wooden panels.

Families, as well as young couples, filled the space that appeared moderately crowded but not stifled. A convivial murmur flowed over the entire place, reaching the elegant bar located at the left end of the room, where more wooden stools allowed patrons to grab a drink without the commitment of dinner. The atmosphere was relaxed and homey but carefully curated like restaurant chains tend to be.

“I like the place,” Tom spoke, breaking your observations.

You turned to him and smiled, “Yeah, it feels very cosy.” He’d taken his coat off too and draped it on the back of his chair, which gave you a better look at what he was wearing. He was more put together than the first time, he’d gone for jeans again but this time he’d opted for a white shirt and a dark blue suit jacket instead of a sweater. His hair was as wild as ever, you could almost picture him absent-mindedly moving his unruly curls out of his face. Just as you were thinking this, one of his curls fell on his forehead. He moved it away and to the wrong side, leaving it sticking up and out from the rest of his hair. You tried to hide the small affectionate smile that took over your face.

A moment of silence fell between you. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it seemed like Tom was determined to say something he couldn’t quite gather the courage to push out. He inadvertently shook his head in a small movement, as if putting aside whatever thought was going through his mind. Then he looked up at you with a gentle smile and said, “We should probably check out the menu.”

You nodded and handed him one of the menus, then grabbed one for yourself. “Shall we share like last time?” you asked him.

“I’d like that, yes,” he replied, so you both concentrated on the list in front of you.

A few minutes passed, and eventually, you both made up your minds. The waitress came over to take your orders almost as soon as you put down the menus and shortly after you were served drinks.

“So, how was your day?” you asked with a nervous but sincere smile, the awkwardness getting to you. You had no idea why you couldn’t seem to make yourselves talk as easily as last time. Even then, it had definitely been slow-going in the beginning, but some embarrassment for a first-time dinner was to be expected. However, you’d met several times now and the painstaking rhythm of your current conversation was starting to take a toll on you.

Tom swallowed the sip of the Roasted Pecan Old Fashioned he’d ordered and smiled back. “It was pretty relaxed,” he answered, “I met my sister in the morning,” - you nodded, he’d said as much in his texts - “But the afternoon was quite slow. How about you? Are you feeling better after what happened with Amelia?”

“Oh, yes, I think so,” you played idly with your own cocktail glass, “I heard from her after we talked, and she seemed to have made up with her boyfriend.”

“Did you manage to find out what happened?” he asked, polite curiosity clear on his face.

“I actually didn’t,” you shook your head and laughed incredulously, “She only sent me a text saying that she was fine, that they were fine.” You shrugged, “Other than that, no explanation.”

He laughed too, “Your sister is quite something.” Then, he seemed to catch himself and hastily retracted, ”That sounded so rude, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Oh, no, don’t worry,” you interrupted him, smiling reassuringly, “I get what you mean. It was kind of a weird situation for me, too. But in the end, I’m just glad everything worked out for the best.”

He nodded, ”Yeah, I’m happy for them. Have they been together long?”

You frowned and looked away, trying to think back to when they started going out. “Uhm… Not very long, no.” You looked back to him and added, “About half a year, I believe. But they did seem to hit it off pretty quickly.” Tom took another sip from his drink and kept listening attentively. You explained, “My sister was super in love straight from the beginning, and it did seem reciprocated. He’s already met our parents, too, it got serious pretty fast.”

He put down his glass and nodded, looking to his lap for just a second. He reached for his glass again but before taking it in his hand he paused and thought better of it. He hesitated, then he finally spoke, “And… Uhm… What about you?”

He was looking intently at you, examining you for an answer, but you weren’t quite sure what he was asking about. You fidgeted nervously but tried not to let your smile falter. “What about me?” you asked him.

He cleared his throat and, with a small wave of his hand, he explained, “I mean, you and Andrea from the café seemed pretty close, are you together?” and looked at you expectantly, frowning slightly and touching his lips with a finger pensively.

You sputtered, opening your mouth several times with no sound coming out. You were completely taken off guard and had no idea what to say. “Oh! No! No, no no, no no no,” you blurted, that was definitely too many No’s. A laugh croaked out of you unintentionally, you slapped your hand on your lips attempting to cover up the noise. When you’d finally regained control over your mouth you tried again, more calmly, “No, we’re not.”

His smile returned at last, and his posture seemed to relax. You hadn’t noticed the tension in his shoulders, but once it was gone, it was unmistakable. He sat back in his chair and fingered one of the corners of his folded napkin on the side of his plate. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply, you just seemed very friendly-”

“Oh no, I mean, we are,” you confirmed, “But that’s just because we’ve known each other for almost two years now,” you explained. You laughed slightly at the thought, and added, “He has a huge crush on Nina, actually.”

“Oh,” he considered, “Oh!” He seemed to come to a realisation. “I didn’t- I mean… I don’t- Is that,” he stuttered, “Is that something that bothers you?” You frowned, confused, so he elaborated, “Is it an unrequited interest situation?”

“No! No,” you denied vehemently, “No, oh my god, not at all.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve known him since before I signed with the label, and he’s always been so supportive,” you clarified, “He’s like a very encouraging brother to me. And his parents have been so kind, too.”

“Oh, I see,” he sighed. He seemed somewhat relieved, “Well, I guess I hope things go well for him. With Nina, I mean,” he finished.

You winced slightly, “Eh… I don’t know about that.” You saw the confusion on his face so you told him, “Nina is a lesbian,” you smiled.

“Ah,” he rubbed at his neck skittishly and smiled nervously, “I had no idea, sorry. I seem to be putting my foot in my mouth a lot tonight.”

You laughed, “It’s completely fine. And well, seen as I’m usually the one doing that, it’s a nice change of pace for once,” you joked.

At that, he laughed too. You lifted your cocktail to your mouth and took another drink. Just then, the waitress accosted your table, carrying several plates with your order in her arms. She put them down in front of you and you both thanked her, finally digging in.

You moved the food around from plate to plate, dividing the dishes you’d ordered so you could both try everything, and spent a couple of minutes just sampling and commenting the dinner. Then the conversation picked up again.

You braced yourself and, trying to gather your courage in the most nonchalant way you could manage, between one bite and the other, you asked him, “And what about you? Are you seeing someone?” Immediately, something in your lower stomach squeezed tight, anticipation from his answer growing steadily in your belly. You looked at him and brought the fork to your lips again, trying to masquerade your nervousness.

He swallowed the bite he’d been chewing and patted at his lips with his napkin. Then he smiled and looked up at you. “Not at the moment, no,” he said, without elaborating further.

His answer was more than enough for your nervousness to dissipate, the painful grip of worry releasing your lungs. Your lips moved to reciprocate his smile and you said briefly, “Oh, I see,” before taking another bite.

You both continued eating, idly chatting away the dinner. Around 9:30 PM, the waitress who’d welcomed you approached your table again and took away your empty plates. Shorty after she came by asking if you’d like dessert and, as you’d already done the first time you’d had dinner together, you opted to share and ordered a slice of Forest Berry Mousse Cake. In what felt like no time at all, that was gone too, and all that remained for you to do was nurse the last inch of cocktail that was left in both your glasses.

You decided it was time to leave when the waitress neared your table again, asking if you cared for something else or if you wanted for her to bring the bill. You accepted the bill and, as you’d predicted, Tom insisted on being the one to pay. You could tell by his determination that there was no way to win the argument and resignedly accepted his kindness, thanking him profusely. You both grabbed your coats and put them on, exiting the restaurant right after. As you’d also done before, you stopped on the curb on the side of the restaurant door again and Tom asked you, “Are you taking the tube?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I’m taking the Northern like towards Morden, how about you?”

“I’m also taking that one, but in the direction toward Edgware,” he replied, then, “We can walk to the station together if you’d like.”

You agreed enthusiastically, “Of course!” And so you started walking through the people passing by pressed side to side.

“Thank you so much for coming out tonight,” he said, hands pushed deep into the pockets of his coat and head turned to you so he could look into your eyes. He was smiling gently.

“Oh, no, I should be the one thanking you,” you protested, absentmindedly playing with one of the corners of your bag, “It was a welcome distraction after the whole ordeal with Amelia, and I had a great time.”

“Me, too,” he replied, “But it was kind of on short notice, so I would have understood if you’d said no.”

You smiled and looked ahead to the road, uncertain if you could say the next few words while looking in his eyes, “I would never have,” you almost whispered. He didn’t respond, and you instinctively looked up, the curiosity to see the expression on his face too strong to resist.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore. He’d lowered his eyes to the pavement, and for a second you thought you’d embarrassed him. You were ready to apologise but just then, you saw a small smile grace his lips, and you noticed the faintest blush high on his cheeks. You looked away again, and another smile flourished on your own lips, filling your mouth with delightful sweetness. Something in your chest exploded with the tiniest pop, and your skin prickled as if dotted by sparklers.

He finally lifted his eyes and looked straight into yours, the smile on his face growing surer and brighter. He offered you his elbow, and you leaned your hand in the bend of his arm, getting ever closer. You spent the remainder of the walk in companionable silence, heat spreading into your bodies from the spot where you touched.

When you reached the station, you stopped a little ways from the entrance and separated, facing each other.

“Thank you,” you told him. If pressed, you wouldn’t have been able to explain what you were thanking him for, but it didn’t seem to matter because he pressed close to you and delicately put his arms around your shoulders. The tenderness of the hug left you breathless, disarmed to the point of being unable to reciprocate for the first few seconds. When you regained clarity, you squeezed him back.

After what felt like an endless time, he let you go.

“I’ll see you soon,” he told you, and you both went your separate ways.

Chapter 9 coming soon

@honeybournehippy @namelesslosers @unlikelytigerqueen @effielumiere @theoneannab @marikochi @sabine-leo

@huntersvibe & @gaylemonshark: I’m unable to tag you both unfortunately, the reason might be that you have the setting for hiding your blogs on. Let me know if you change them and if you want me to try again!

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #reader x tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x you #fanfiction #reader tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston reader #tom hiddleston fandom

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tacitoru · 6 years ago

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All That Glitters (m)

pairing: Taehyung x Reader

genre: smut

warnings: dragonhybrid!Taehyung, sugar daddy au, slight humiliation, spit play (i really don’t know)

synopsis: A “strictly business” relationship quickly breaking its own boundaries. You’re in denial and Taehyung has had enough.

notes: of course when I finally write something I think is worthy of posting it turns out to be just pwp. But hi, I’m back bitches.

Call him a stereotype, but Kim Taehyung has always loved pretty things.

He had a natural eye for beauty, for things that not only shimmered and shined in the sun but glowed with an inner radiance of their own. Whether that glow was from the pride of its maker, the spark of interest from the story behind it, or the price tag that would make simple mortal cower, Taehyung knew beauty when he saw. In the modern world, it had become less of an obsessive tendency to hoard and more of inherited hobby passed through his bloodline. It had been long since his gallery surpassed mere gems and gold coins; he had become a Laura Croft of sorts; minus the violence and cultural intrusion, mountain climbing and manhunts. He never touched anything of cultural importance, never went out of his way to take from those who held a much greater value in particular items than he did. As young as he was, Taehyung had considered himself a having done a fine job in keeping himself in line.

However, that itch to take – to have – came back every so often, just like that rainy night so many months ago. And that night he wanted you.

He’d never felt it so strongly before that night, the need to possess – let alone possess someone. He prided himself in being a man aware and respectful of other’s limits and boundaries. And to top it all off, you had initially refused! Of course, his delivery hadn’t been the smoothest, but after some clarification, it hadn’t taken long for you to be persuaded. Money; you needed it and he had too much of it. And so began a partnership of sorts. He had the honor of dotting you around on his arm as company for dreaded public events and you attended university sleeping comfortably each night knowing your tuition for grad school was long paid off. It had been a careful balancing act for many months, simple conversations slowly transforming into something a little more, heated glances in silent car rides doing nothing short of burning a hole in Taehyung’s chest. Over time, you had gone from one of Taehyung’s favorite accessories to someone dear to his heart - his little gem. Until tonight, when the tightrope you both had been balancing on was strung so tight it snapped.

Although you were the one to back him into the wall in a frenzy, Taehyung is quick to put you in your place. His hand finds its way to your hair, and in one rough jerk, he tugs your head back to a expose the skin beneath your jaw, his mouth sucking a new pattern of purple down your neck. You groan in indignation, yet his firm grip restricts you from moving too far away. Taehyung laughs, lips ghosting your collarbone.

“You often speak so indifferently of me - at parties, company functions, to your friends - renouncing your feelings at every chance you get, and yet-.” His laugh is one of bitter amusement, whispering against your skin, yet the slow movement of the other hand that had fallen from your throat instill the very opposite of fear in your bones. “And yet your body is strung tight like the strings of a violin because even it acknowledges that this-,”

His free hand moves to your left breast, just above your heart.

“-this-,”

It travels further, palm circling your belly button to your navel.

“-and this-,”

You choke on a gasp of his name, elicited from a rough hand cupping your clothed mound, having maneuvered its way under the hem of your dress. Without a doubt, he can feel the warm moisture seeping through the fabric on his fingertips. “-Are mine.”

As though he senses the beginning of protests forming on your lips, he grins. Pretty white teeth glinting in the light of the moon. “As I am yours.”

You go just about boneless in his hold, grappling at his shoulders as you fall into him. Fingers moving on their own accord, you begin scrambling to undo the shiny buttons of his dress shirt.

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, nipping at your ear in retaliation and – much to your dismay – releasing his hold on your hair. “Slow down little gem, we’re in no rush.”

“But Tae-,”

“Y/N” If the firm tone of his voice wasn’t enough to render you still, the golden glint of his irises do. “On your knees, hands under your thighs.”

Albeit reluctant to obey, you sink to your knees, wincing when met with the texture of the tiles of the kitchen floor. Taehyung pays no mind, a single hand wrapping around your jaw to squish your cheeks with his thumb and forefinger. It forces your lips into an awkward pout. You attempt to glare up at him in irritation as hard as possible in your slightly humiliating situation.

“Aw, is baby upset? Don’t worry sweetie, patience is virtue,” he coos, thumb stroking your cheekbone. With the other hand he slowly undoes his belt and suddenly your attention is otherwise occupied, annoyance dissipated with the quiet clink of metal. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. When you fail to immediately adhere to his command, he presses against your cheeks, firmly working your jaw open in his grasp. “Now be a good girl and stay put. I have a quick call I need to make.”

You cry out in disbelief as he pats your right cheeks and walks off with a smirk, belt swinging loosely from the loops of his suit pants. What kind of game is he playing?

“No moving!” He calls from the direction of the bedroom and a whine builds up in your throat. It doesn’t take long for an ache to grow in your hands and knees, blood circulation nearly cut off at the wrists. The tile floors become more and more uncomfortable by the minute. Listening to the deep timbre of Taehyung’s voice on from the other side of your apartment, you’re quick to realize that this is a test. He’s testing to see just how far you’re willing to go, pushing your limits with his commands. You’re perfectly capable of closing your mouth and getting up right this instant, yet-

And yet you don’t because of the realization that some part of you has been craving this. The burning flush of humiliation in your cheeks, the taunting look reflected in his gold-flecked eyes. Relinquishing control for a few blissful hours. It sends a delicious thrill down your spine. So you sit in the middle of your kitchen floor, knees burning and fighting the temptation to swallow the saliva gradually pooling in your mouth.

Around the time he finishes his call, you glance blearily at the clock on the stove; he’s left you for a good ten minutes. By now the joints in your jaw ache as well, and you’re thoroughly soaked down to your neck in your own dribble. You hear Taehyung before you see him, the soft padding of dress shoes on your shabby carpeting before met with the tile of the kitchen as he rounds the counter and comes into view. His appearance makes you nearly gag on your own spit; having discarded the belt and undone his dress pants, the dragon hybrid approaches you with his cock half hard in his hand and a self-satisfied, expectant smile. His gaze makes you feel twice as small.

“Well just look at you,” he chuckles. His hand returns to your jaw, unflinching when some of the warm fluid in your mouth spills over your bottom lip onto his hand and the palm of his hand is met with the sticky residue at your chin. “My little gem. Such a good girl for me, Y/N,” A reluctant sigh. “You can get off your hands now.”

Exhaling in barely concealed relief through your nose, you pull your hands out from under you, wincing at the realization that they’ve fallen asleep. You drop them in your lap, having been practically rendered useless for the moment. However, the new discomfort is the least of your worries as your eyes take in the sight before you in incredulity. True to his dragon heritage, Taehyung is big and most certainly more daunting in length and girth than what you’ve taken on before. He slowly strokes with his free hand, and if you’re eyes hand been so caught on the motion, you wouldn’t have missed the adoring smile on your benefactor’s face.

“It’s big, huh? Is it too big for you to handle? Baby girl looks worried, do you think you can’t fit it in your mouth?”

At this, your eyes shoot up to his face in surprise, cheeks burning red from not only the exertion but the filth of his words. You imagine that he’ll barely make it halfway down before you’re gagging, and the thought makes you just as turned on as you are intimidated. As if knowing you wanted to object, Taehyung’s grin grows even wider.

“Look at you, already drooling; you want it anyway, hmm?”

Not really looking for an answer, the hand on your chin slides up to squish your cheeks again, this time resulting in an overflow of warm liquid spattering onto the bare skin of your thighs, revealed from the gradual riding up of the hem of your dress. The feeling makes you cringe, your automatic reaction to recoil from his hold to wipe yourself off. Taehyung is having none of it though, quickly switching hands to keep a hold on your face with the opposite while stroking his length with the soiled one. “Not so fast,” he grunts, and the idea of swallowing anyways just to piss him off flickers through your thoughts. The buzz of excitement is slowly becoming overshadowed by your own growing impatience. He waited this long, why wait any longer?

“Keep it wide open for me,” is your only warning before he pushes his way into the warm cavern of your mouth.

#bts smut #bts scenario #kim taehyung smut #hybrid au #bts au #v smut #bts hybrid au

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everlarkficexchange · 7 years ago

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Feast Your Eyes

Written by: @savvylark @lovely-tothe-bone @ra3lynn3

Prompt 91: Peeta as the tatted, ex-rocker owner of bakery chain (like in in DC-Balto area called dangerously delicious pies). Katniss is an attached (engaged or otherwise unavailable) food critic or reporter doing a piece on him but she and P can’t deny the attraction. Angst and such ensue. [submitted by Anonymous]

Rating: M; later change to E Warning: Vague references to child abuse, sexual innuendos, eventual smut

A/N: Through random chance the three of us came together to do this prompt justice and somehow have been on the same wavelength, fueling one another’s ideas. Dreaming up this universe has been such a joy. Having multiple authors, it just made sense for us to beta one another’s work, I am really grateful to @savvylark and @ra3lynn3 for their patience, encouragement, time, and hard work. They’ve taught me so much. Thank you to the lovely anonymous who submitted this, wish we knew who you were! We hope this surpasses your expectations! This will be multi chapter so lots to look forward to Everlarker’s, the first one is by the ever fun @savvylark

Katniss tapped her pencil nervously on the desk, impatiently waiting for her boss. She was supposed to start on this human interest piece which, as a fairly new writer, was entirely outside of her comfort zone.

Katniss was the writer for the dessert portion of foodie magazine, The Feast.

“I would much rather taste and describe the delicate nuances of liver and haggis than write a human interest piece.” She muttered to herself, her face contorted in disgust at the thought of haggis and liver.

Katniss had been in an especially dark mood all day, still fuming over her recent weekend with her boyfriend Thom. It was as if he had done a complete 180 on Katniss. He was once so loyal, and stable with a well paying job; not to mention tall, dark, and handsome. Thom was everything she had been looking for now that Katniss decided to settle down. The discussion of their future, with pretty suggestive hints, seemed to have worked. Their weekend away seemed like it would have been the perfect time, only to be left-

Katniss’s thoughts were interrupted by the knock on her door. Her long dark braid flipped over her shoulder when she stood, she expected her boss. Instead it was Johanna, her friend and superior here at the magazine, who entered.

Small but menacing, Johanna had a powerful stance. Her cropped brunette hair fell just below her jawline in a tapered bob, while shorter and spiky at the nape of her neck.

“Hey brainless, so what happened this weekend? That text was pretty vague.” Katniss’s brash friend asked.

Covering her face with both hands Katniss answered, “Oh my gosh! No! I don’t even want to talk about it. Ugh! I don’t know how to feel about Thom or where our relationship stands.”

Johanna narrowed her chocolate brown eyes in curiosity, so Katniss continued, “It seemed like Thom was going to propose. All the signs were there: romantic getaway, candlelit dinner, an entire weekend to relax. Madge thought so, I thought so, you did too, right?”

Johanna nodded her head in agreement.

“A few times in the past month I could have sworn that he had a ring box in his pocket. He was not that happy to see me, if you know what I mean?” Katniss suggestively raised her eyebrows with a saucy smirk, her silver eyes were alive with mischief.

Johanna flashed a wicked grin. She was familiar with Katniss’s wild side. Even if she’d kept that part of her self separate, stored away from her clean-cut, straight laced, more conservative boyfriend. That wild side always slipped out in the presence of Johanna Mason.

The look she gave Johanna turned more serious, Katniss spoke vulnerably, “You know what my parents were like… I can’t, I can’t. I don’t know how to feel. I was left alone in a hotel all weekend, while he ran around for his boring job doing… What does he do again? Professional bank paperwork?” The two women were slightly allergic to sappy situations, so before Johanna started breaking out in hives they made light of the topic.

“Being professionally boring… at decrepit banks?” Johanna answered, her eyes narrowed, “but he doesn’t work at the bank?”

Katniss had been dating Thom for nine months. She kept forgetting what he did for work so much so that over time it became a joke. Thom was essentially the grim reaper of banks. He worked for the FDIC shutting failing ones down, the most boring job Katniss had ever heard of. It was all paperwork and involved some travel.

Katniss had an unstable childhood that involved negligent wild parents. She was drawn to Thom because he had been a calm, consistent, reliable presence. To Katniss, Thom meant stability. Thom had no student loans, owned his own home, had no car payment because he was able to buy his car outright. She had yet to see Thom use a credit card to pay for anything. Katniss knew date night would never have been on the 2nd of the month, that night was designated for paying bills. He read about planning for his retirement, reliable financial strategies, and unrisky business investments. Thom’s weeks were structured and predictable. Katniss found it comforting. Just what she thought she needed in her life.

Katniss explained to Johanna that Thom was constantly on his phone the whole weekend, left to fax something, interrupted their conversation during dinner to reply to emails. Katniss was so disappointed when she was abandoned in the hotel room while Thom disappeared yet again, because “Something came up from work, you don’t mind do you?”

His concern was false, he didn’t really ask.

Katniss was not amused and decided she had enough. They cut the weekend short and parted ways with little conversation. Thom flew to one location for work, while Katniss had flown back home.

Madge arrived at the airport and had found a seething, curse-muttering Katniss on fire. Her childhood best friend embraced the scowling dark haired woman and sped off to the nearest ice cream shop to cheer her up. Something decadent always seemed to lighten Katniss’ mood.

Johanna listened intently and shook her head. Not in pity, but frustration with what a terrible weekend her friend had endured.

“Well screw him, let’s go out tonight?” Johanna offered.

Katniss smiled at the idea, but her face fell when she remembered, “I have to work on this big story first, raincheck?”

Johanna nodded.

Upon hearing the familiar footsteps down the hall, Johanna decided to make her exit and headed out of Katniss’s office.

Her boss arrived with an arm full of research for Katniss.

The blond woman appeared every bit the classic professional, put together in a feminine fitted gray pants suit and low heels. Unexpected is the innovative rebel that embodies Cressida’s very nature, that is until she turned her left side into view.

Katniss smiled as she took in Cressida’s profile, ¼ of her head was shaved in a dramatic undercut intricate and beautiful green vine designs were tattooed on her scalp, and the edge of her hair that met bare skin was french braided thinly down her head.

“Right on time.” Katniss remarked sarcastically.

Cressida laughed at her quip, dropping a pile of papers and pictures on the desk.

Katniss scowled, expecting her boss to explain.

Cress, so used to the frequent scowl stared back unperturbed. They called her the boss for more reasons than her talented writing, her shrewd business sense, and excellence in advertising. Cressida could handle any personality type.

Everything dropped on Katniss’s desk included positive and delicious reviews about the bakery owner’s breads, cakes, pastries, and desserts.

Describing food and writing about it was what Katniss excelled at. Cressida knew this.

After reading every word about the most delicious, mouth-watering desserts, all Katniss could think was “I’ve GOT to get my mouth on one of these things!”

One particular review claimed his cakes to be “simply orgasmic.” Her dirty mind contemplated the thought, wondering what a cake induced mouth orgasm was like…

Katniss was left so intrigued by this baker, by the time she had reached the end of the stack she was left salivating, stomach groaning.

And strangely aroused.

Katniss snatched up her phone, immediately dialed her best friend, “Hey Madge, let’s do an early lunch? I’m starving!”

——-

Katniss once again called the bakery owner, Peeta, to confirm their meeting. He had a deep timbre to his voice, a kindness in the way he spoke. Peeta was efficient and quick to the point over the phone, which Katniss appreciated.

It was a short 45 minute drive to Capitol Hill, a small district in the heart of Seattle. Lost in the song Katniss let loose and belted out lyrics along with the radio. Sometimes she missed this side of herself.

She admired the modern updates throughout the area, an artisan bistro, colorful boutiques, various ma and pa shops that had been rejuvenated for a younger crowd. Even the bars were modernized yet still held older, small town elements. Industrial and historic buildings met modern and artistic designs.

She pulled up to the bakery and vaguely remembered wanting to attend it’s opening. Thom insisted they attend one of his work functions instead. Which, in hindsight, should have been a red flag. He hadn’t been paying attention to the things she was interested in for a long time.

Katniss took in the outside of the bakery before stepping inside. The awning and structure of the building gave a nod to a generational family bakery while the black and industrial accents gave the appearance of a hard edge. The front of the sign was a nod to tattoo artistry and the logo of the bakery was decidedly masculine. For some reason this made Katniss smile.

A bell chimed as she entered. Soft rock music was playing. Studying the photos on the wall she could tell this is no ordinary baker.

#Springtime Edition 2018 #submission #savvylark #ra3lynn3 #lovely-tothe-bone #prompt 91

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periwinklepandas · 7 years ago

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The Desk

Royai Smut Week Day 4: “Useless When Wet.”

Theme K: Oral

Rating: M

Pairing: Royai/Roy Mustang x Riza Hawkeye

Disclaimer: I don’t own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Word Count: 2,902

Title: The Desk

Description: Roy can’t seem to control to the constant traffic coming through his office. It doesn’t help that Riza is feeling extra frisky.

@royaismutweek

“Colonel, take off those ignitions gloves before you accidentally set the whole office on fire!”

Riza scolded the Flame Alchemist as she kissed his neck. They were in his office; her straddling him in his chair, topless and attacking his neck with succulent kisses. The others were out on various field missions, so the couple decided to make the best of their alone time.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Hawkeye.” Roy mumbled closing his eyes and relishing in the feeling of her hands stroking him through his pants.

“Is that really how you feel?” She challenged, ceasing her assault on his neck and looking down at him.

“Don’t be so sensitive,” He gave a charming smile and stroked her chin with his gloved hand. Her eyes soften briefly and she was just about to kiss his lips when they heard a knock on the door.

Riza’s arms flailed outwards and she clumsily fell backwards between his feet and the desk.

“Relax,” he chuckled, “The door is locked.”

He stood and walked over to the door just as the knocking continued. “Damn you Fullmetal.” He mumbled and looked behind him to see if Riza was decent again. Oddly, he found that she was nowhere in sight. Roy frowned and then shrugged, turning around and unlocking the door to let his newest state alchemist and his brother in.

“What are you doing here?” He asked walking back to the desk with the brothers in tow. “You’re supposed to be in Dagnus.”

“We finished early,” the shorter Elric shrugged. “Figured we’d report back and then we need to go home to Resembool to have Winry check my automail.”

Mustang nodded and flopped down in his seat. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he spotted his still topless Lieutenant huddled in the nook under the desk where his chair slid in. The desk sat directly on the floor, so it was impossible for the Elrics to see her from the other side, but just the slightest sound and they’d be caught.

“What were you thinking?” he tried to mentally send to her with a look of disapproval. She only shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

“I hope we weren’t interrupting anything,” Alphonse stated innocently, his large borrowed body sat awkwardly on the small couch across from the Colonel’s desk.

“Nothing too important.” Mustang shrugged and Riza frowned beneath him.

She loved him, but his arrogance drove her crazy sometimes. He liked to pretend that he was underestimating her sexually. And while she was confident in her sexiness, it was time to show him just how much she could drive him crazy.

It was time for a little payback.

“So did you track down any criminal leads in Dagnus?” Roy asked, scooting his chair in to box in the young blonde below him. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his laced hands.

Edward snorted, “A complete waste of a train ride and our time, Colonel. It was a dead-end lead.”

“Hmm…” Mustang smirked, considering the younger boy’s words. “That’s unfortunate because—“He lost his words in the feeling of a pair of smooth hands reaching into his waistband and grabbing his dick.

Riza wrapped her fingers around him and began to pump up and down slowly. She was able to quietly twist her body so that she was supported on her knees, facing his crotch.

“Because what, Colonel?” Alphonse’s absent voice asked curiously.

“Uhh…B-because we’d—gotten a lot of reports of s-s-suspicious activity from that area,” The colonel had to stutter through his words because of the woman’s actions below. She was running her hand up his shaft and over the head, running her thumb across the beading precum on the head, before sliding back down. He was happy she was unable to reach his balls, or they’d be in big trouble!

“Whatever,” Edward huffed, “Do us a favor and stop sending us on pointless busy work cases. We need to focus on getting our bodies back!”

“You’ll do as told Fullmetal!” Roy barked out, pointing his finger at the defiant boy, “You took an oath to this military.”

The eldest Elric rolled his eyes and waved off the colonel’s words, standing up and signally for Alphonse to follow him. “C’mon Al, let’s go see Winry and Granny.”

The Elrics exited his office, and Roy leaned back to scold his subordinate on her reckless (but skillful) actions, when another figure walked in excitedly.

“Greetings Elric Brother’s, Gracia wants to see you two again for dinner soon!” It was Lt. Colonel Maes Hughes.

“Hey there Roy! I was hoping I’d catch you in the office.” Hughes grinned and walked over to Roy’s desk. Unlike the Elrics, Maes walked right over to the Colonel’s desk and leaned over it.

Roy met him halfway, leaning forward again to block his compromising view. “What do you want Hughes? I don’t have time to watch you ogle over pictures of your wife and daughter. I’m busy!” He choked out the last work when he felt Riza add her other hand to his shaft.

“Sheesh, somebody’s testy today. I actually had these forms for you to look over. Something big is going down in Central. They’re looking at some major changes in staff. A lot of transfers I hear.” His friend told him with a wink.

Roy took the papers in his hand and struggled to concentrate on them and keep his breathing steady.

“I’ve never known you to be asthmatic Roy,” Hughes stated curiously.

“What are you talking about?” Roy asked him gruffly. Riza chuckled silently under the desk, rolling his erection in her palms. She was enjoying this game, but she was far from finished.

“You’re breathing really hard. Should I call a medic?” Hughes chuckled, half-serious.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just... warm in here.” Roy groaned, running his hand through his hair. He reached down with the other hand and tried to push Riza away from him, but instead she took one of his fingers in her mouth and sucked on it swiftly. The Colonel let out a low moan, earning a questioning look from the Lt. Colonel.

“If you say so…” Hughes shrugged, “Oh, yeah and before I go…”

“Hurry it up Hughes…” Roy gave a desperate warning, coughing as the lieutenant added more pressure to his member.

“Elicia took pre-birthday pictures!” Hughes exclaimed skillfully producing a set of photo proofs and tossing them on the Colonel’s desk. Riza had to bury her face in Roy’s thigh to surpass her laughter.

“How sweet,” Roy breathed out sarcastically. “Now leave… now!”

“I’ll be back for those documents later.” Maes gathered his pictures and headed towards the door. “Get something for that cough!”

When the door closed, Roy pushed his rolling chair back and scowled at Riza. He pried her hands from around him and tried to pull her out. “Are you crazy? Do you want us to get caught?”

Riza laughed and smirked at him, “You shouldn’t have insulted me, Colonel. Though I hate I missed an opportunity to see Elicia’s birthday pictures.” She pulled away from him and took him in her hands again.

“Whatever, you’ve had your fun now get up before—“his words were halted and he pushed the topless lieutenant back under the desk as his door swung open.

“Mustang!” The unpleasant tone came from Major General Hakuro as he stormed into Roy’s office.

Roy let out a groan. He didn’t need Hakuro’s jealous antics right now, not with the lieutenant resuming her motions on his dick.

“What’s taking you so long to look over those documents Hughes brought,” Haruko demanded, standing at attention and frowning down at Roy.

“He literally just brought them.” Roy sighed, relishing in the feelings shooting through his groin. “I’ll bring them to you as soon as I’m finished.”

“You’re expected in the meeting this afternoon; bring them then.” Hakuro snorted, “I just don’t get it.”

“Get what?” Roy asked slightly disinterested.

“How you’re always able to get ahead so rapidly. The General favors you, for whatever reason.” Hakuro accused, leering at Roy as if he was expecting an actual answer.

“Maybe it’s because I’m so—oh—woah! Dammit Hawkeye!” Roy exclaimed midsentence, clenching his teeth and gripping the edge of his wooden desk.

“Hawkeye?” General Hakuro snorted, looking around the room. “What in the hell are you talking about. The lieutenant’s not even here!”

No, General Hakuro couldn’t see Riza at the moment, and it was a good thing because she was currently underneath her commanding officer’s desk, running her wet tongue up the length of his cock.

“Are you insane!” Roy gritted out, bringing his hands under the table to stop her.

“Am I insane?” General Hakuro frowned deeper, “Are you? You’re the one that isn’t making any sense.”

There was a knock at the door and Roy peered past Hakuro’s shoulder to see the newly hired Sheska giving him a short wave.

“Sorry to interrupt Colonel, but I found those records you were wanting.” The bespectacled women walked over and sat an old records book on his desk.

“Th—thank you Sh-sh-Sheska,” Roy stuttered, pushing his palm against Riza’s forehead under the desk to stop her from licking him.

“What are you doing with your hands, Mustang?” Hakuro accused, craning his head over the desk to try and see why the Colonel was fidgeting so much.

Roy swiftly pulled his hands up and slammed them on his table. “Nothing, everything is f-fiiiiiiii—Fine!”

Riza had decided at that moment to kick it up a notch, angling him slightly towards her face and taking him in her mouth; sucking the head of his dick first and running her tongue across the slit.

“Fuck…” he breathed out dropping his head down.

“Do you need a glass of water, sir?’ Sheska asked quietly, concern heavy in her eyes.

“Nope,” Roy squinted his eyes and mustered up his best faux-smile. “Thank you for those records, Sheska. You are dismissssssssed.” He’d have to seriously punish his loyal lieutenant after this one. She was sexy when she was bold, but this was downright suicide.

Above him General Hakuro watched in disgust as Roy panted and groaned at his table. He was never a fan of the young colonel and his relationship with East City’s highest ranking general.

“If you’re finished, Major General, I’d like to have my privacy now.”

Haruko huffed and turned on his heels to leave, just as a certain black and white puppy pranced into the office with a bark.

“You should tell your lieutenant that pets aren’t allowed on the premises.” Haruko spat out, frowning at Black Hayate.

The dog barked and padded across the room, sniffing the floor; on the familiar trail of his hidden owner.

Riza intensified her blowjob, taking him deeper into her mouth and down her through; bobbing her head up and down, hoping to make him climax.

She heard Roy gasps loudly, and she thought maybe it was from the head she was performing on him, until she heard him belt out a name.

“General Grumman! What a surprise!”

“Colonel Mustang. How is this beautiful day treating you?” Grumman exclaimed, walking in examining the room.

“Go-good, Sir.” Roy choked out, praying that the arrival of their commanding officer and Riza’s grandfather was enough to prove to her that the fun was over.

It didn’t.

Instead, Riza’s mouth pumped harder around him; the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat, but she was an expert and wouldn’t make a single gagging sound. For that Roy was grateful. When Riza brought one hand up to stroke him as she sucked him off, Roy brought one hand of his own down and weaved his fingers through her scalp, gripping tightly and moving her head against him.

“Ingrate!” Hakuro spat from the threshold of the office door. “That’s your commanding officer! Stand and salute!”

“I—uhhh—C-cant’s sir.” Roy was fighting to keep his eyes open and fighting even harder in an attempt not to cum in her mouth while her maternal grandfather paced his office.

“Its fine Mustang, I was just dropping by to see if you’d put anymore consideration on that offer I’ve been proposing for years now?”

The offer to marry his granddaughter.

Roy wanted to tell his commanding officer that marrying Riza should be the least of the General’s worry. They’d been having sex in his office for a while now, so obviously marriage was the next step right?

“Haaa—How about we discuss this in a more private setting, General?” Roy heaved, as the Lieutenant, expertly sucked him while running her tongue around his tip. He was having a hard time composing himself as it was, but now that his cock was touching the softness of her throat he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up their cover.

Grumman threw a look back at the nosy General Hakuro, who was still lingering at the door. Roy certainly didn’t need the envious general in his private business when it came to his relationship with their boss’s granddaughter; but Hakuro wasn’t the only pair of ears in the room that Roy didn’t want eavesdropping on that conversation.

“Certainly.” General Grumman nodded. “I’ll see you tonight at the meeting, Colonel.”

Roy grunted as his free hand gripped the desk and the other pulled at Riza’s hair. He was close to losing it and he desperately needed their company to leave.

“Uhh….yea—yes, Sir.”

Black Hayate gave a bark as he sniffed around the desk in search for his owner’s scent.

“It’s odd seeing that pooch without its owner close behind.” Grumman mused, eyeing the small dog. “Where is Lieutenant Hawkeye, Colonel?”

Roy gave out a hiss as the vibrations of a laughing Riza moved up his length. “Assssss—assignment, Sir. She’s out on assignment.”

“That’s interesting. I’ve never known her to take on any assignments that didn’t involve you.” Grumman grinned. “Are you okay, Colonel. You seem flustered.”

Roy couldn’t respond. He only waved his hand as a gesture to say that he was alright.

Black Hayate followed his nose around the office and barked excitedly when he spotted Riza under the desk.

“What’s he barking at?” Grumman furrowed his brow, walking around to the side of the desk.

“Agh!” Roy exclaimed untangling his and from Riza’s hair and pushing the dog away from them with his foot. “He probably just smells the leftover lunch in my trashcan, Sir!”

“Hmm…” Grumman stroked his wild mustache in consideration. He shrugged his shoulders and then turned to follow Hakuro out of the office, closing the door behind him.

“Goddammit, Hawkeye. Are you crazy?” Roy exclaimed, standing forcefully, causing his rock-hard cock to slide out of her mouth.

Riza laughed, crawling from underneath the desk, but staying on her knees at the foot of his chair. “That was priceless.”

Roy returned to the chair and flopped down, exasperated; his dick still standing straight in the air. He ran his hands over his face and exhaled, swaying slowly side to side in the chair.

With a mischievous glint, Riza took him in her hands again and into her mouth. She bobbed furiously, pumping him with her hands too.

Roy moaned deeply. Desperate to release the pent up pressure that had been building for the past ten-minutes of her sucking him, he began to thrust his hips up slightly, and his palm found its way to the back of her head again, guiding her up and down, until finally he was ready.

“I’m—fuck, Reez, I’m about to—“He wanted to warn her, before he just rudely spilled in her mouth, but the words kept losing him. Not that Riza needed them to understand; nor did she intend on taking him out of her mouth until he was finished and she was swallowing every drop of him.

She heard him let out a labored “Argh” and his hand pressed her down further on to his cock, so that his cum shot down her throat and she was finally forced to gag a little.

When he was finished he let out a deep content sigh and tossed his head back so that it dangled past the chair’s back.

“That was amazing, Reez.” He breathed out happily, running his hands down her jaw. His eyes were closed and he was smiling weakly.

“MmmHmm.” Riza hummed wiping the corners of her mouth on a tissue from his desk. She stood up from the floor finally and redressed in her turtleneck and overcoat. “Come, Hayate.” She called to the little Shiba, and made her way to the door.

“Wait Lieutenant.” Roy called out to her. Riza turned her head and regarded him nonchalantly.

His face formed into a cocky grin and he asked her huskily, “Don’t you want me to return the favor? I can make you feel good with my tongue too.”

The offer was tempting; very tempting. It sent a jolt of electricity between Riza’s thighs, and she considered accepting.

But in the game of tit-for-tat, sacrifices must be made.

She turned her face back around and opened the door to leave. Waving lazily back at him, she called out to him before leaving.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Colonel.”

Thanks for reading! If you like it “like it”, reblog it, comment!

#royaismut18 #day 4 #theme k #royaismutweek #royaismut #royai #royainsfw #roy x riza #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #smut #fmabsmut #fullmetal alchemist #fma #fmab #royai smut

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wellhellotragic · 6 years ago

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If Looks Could Kill 4/27

Summary: Emma Swan is a dedicated FBI agent getting over a bad breakup. When she and her partner, Ruby Lucas, are forced to go undercover as contestants on a reality show, Emma is forced to try and win the affections of Killian Jones, a man she despises.

Killian Jones is a lost boy. Having recently been nicknamed the ‘Bad Boy of Boston,’ he’s been living up to his moniker using women and rum to avoid dealing with his dark past. When he’s forced to take the lead in a reality show, he encounters a gorgeous blonde who turns his world upside down.

Miss Congeniality meets The Bachelor

Rated: M for language, violence, and smut.

Catch up here: 1, 2, 3

Killian didn’t make it to bed until almost three in the morning. After his encounter with Emma, he returned to find the production crew waiting for him. They insisted that he do his interviews that night while he was still dressed up and while all of the women were still fresh in his mind.

The truth though, was that Emma was right. Most of the women did blur together after the first five minutes of the evening. The only ones who really stuck out were the ones that were over the top inappropriate, like the girl from New Orleans who grabbed his butt talking about how he could give her some pointers on some sticky buns for her restaurant.

And then there was Emma. As soon as he laid his eyes on her he felt drawn to her by an invisible force. She wasn’t like the rest of them and he was entranced. She didn’t seem fazed by his fame or money, and their short conversation had been the most stimulating exchange he had had in months, years maybe, but he wouldn’t let himself think about that.

Their interaction that night had been brief, but he couldn’t help but think that maybe this whole experience wouldn’t be as horrible as he expected. Who knows, maybe the others would be less exasperating in a more intimate setting.

There was a special room set up near the front of the mansion with cameras and lighting already in position. David had him sit in a wingback chair near a roaring fireplace so they could adjust the lighting for filming.

Off to the side, out of the view of the camera, was a man named Sebastian. He was holding a stack of headshots to help Killian remember who each woman from that evening was. The interview consisted of asking the same question about every single contestant there. The network would choose four or five of his answers from that episode to run in the promo.

It took all of his strength to fake interest in any of it. He was supposed to be a guy looking for love and thrilled at the prospect of meeting his soul mate. In reality he was simply a heartbroken man who no longer believed in love, at least for him. When he lost Milah, he swore off relationships out of respect to her and what they had. No other woman would ever compare to her.

When the interviewer held up a portrait of the last woman, Emma Fowler, he couldn’t contain the grin that overtook his face. The interviewer not missing the first real bit of sincerity Killian had showed all night jumped, asking more questions about Emma than any of the other girls.

“So,” he started, “I’d ask if there were any women that might be front-runners at this point, but judging by the way you just lit up I think we have our answer. What is it about Emma that stuck out to you?”

Once the interviewer had asked the question, Killian realized what was happening. He felt an attraction for Emma that surpassed anything physical. Even after knowing her for only five minutes he could tell she was sharp and witty, and there had been something about her that shouted to him that she might even understand him. That she had experienced pain too. Those were dangerous thoughts though and he had to shut them down.

Emma could be a fun distraction while he was trapped filming the show, but it couldn’t go beyond that, wouldn’t go beyond that. He had already found and lost his true love, and would never be ready to move on; he could never disrespect what they had together.

“Um, I wouldn’t say there were any front-runners per say. I met the women briefly tonight but haven’t really had the chance to get to know them yet.”

He was coy for the rest of the interview, and when they finally wrapped, he was taken back to he guesthouse where he quickly passed out from exhaustion.

Emma barely slept. Images of Neal and his broken promises haunted her all night. It had taken Emma years to trust a man again, only to have that trust thrown back in her face. What she had with Neal was a lie, Walsh was a lie, and now whatever she was forced to forge with Killian was going to be a lie.

Killian was easier though. She wouldn’t get her heart broken this time because she wouldn’t let him in. Last night, telling him about the déjà vu theory was a fluke. She never meant to give him something so honest, but with everyone whispering in her ear to be nice to Killian it just slipped out.

Ruby had reminded her that there were eyes everywhere watching their every move, and she needed to stay in character, which meant playful banter with Killian.

Robin told her that despite all of Killian’s false bravado, he was actually a decent guy underneath it all. When Killian mentioned the odd feeling, Robin was certain that Killian had recognized her, while Will told her to distract him before he could put it together.

So many voices were swirling around and it was the first thought that came to mind. As soon as she said it all of the pain came flooding back and she cursed herself for allowing Neal into her thoughts, into her life. When he told her that he liked the idea, and that perhaps it meant he wasn’t as lost as he thought, she sensed sincerity in his words. In that moment he wasn’t the womanizing pig from the other night. He was just a handsome stranger sharing a meaningful conversation, and she felt a spark of something between them when she saw the way he looked at her.

No, Emma wouldn’t let another man into her life, as tempting as he may have been, even if it were only for a few months. It was safer that way. Of course, he probably hadn’t even given her a second thought after that. There were so many faces last night, he would never be able to pick her out of crowd, and that made her feel just a tiny bit better.

Emma got out of bed and tiptoed around the room trying not to wake Ruby. She changed into some workout gear and snuck her way of out the house. Typically the girls on the show were forced to remain in the house, only being allowed to leave for special occasions, and always under supervision.

Since Emma and Ruby weren’t actual contestants, they had a little more leniency, citing that they needed to keep up their physical activities and meet covertly with their team. They still had to keep it a secret from everyone so she and Ruby would have to be careful sneaking in and out of the house without anyone noticing.

Regina explained that by isolating the girls from the world, it would heighten their emotional responses, making them desperate for Killian, and therefore provide more entertainment. Ruby chimed in, adding that it meant more catfights, meltdowns, and ultimately more pinning for Killian.

Emma coined it for what it was, psychological torture. There were no phones or computers allowed. The girls only had each other for company, making male companionship all that more desirable. Remembering that she would have to compete in humiliating contests made her angrier.

The fury building up helped to push her through an extra two miles of her run. She had found a slightly overgrown trail that lead to some docks at the back of the property. There was a small boathouse at one end of the decking, but no boats moored. It was the perfect place to hide when everything became too much.

She sat on the end of the dock, letting her legs dangle over the edge almost able to dip her shoes into the water. She stayed there watching the sunrise. It would probably be the only relaxing time she would get for the rest of the day. The smell and sounds of the waves crashing against the bulkhead were intoxicating, and she had to summon all of her will to stand up. People would start waking up soon and she needed to get back before she was missed.

She stretched out the muscles that had stiffened before turning back, just in time to hear voices approaching.

She heard a female voice yell out, “Race you there,” followed by male laughter.

She looked around to see if there was another trail to take back but there wasn’t. Perhaps if she kept her head down he would be too entranced with his new running mate to notice her.

“Hey, fancy meeting you here.” It was Ruby, panting hard. Ruby had never been much of a runner. She preferred pilates and kickboxing. In fact she only ever ran in preparations for her annual physicals at the bureau.

“Emma?” Killian looked surprised.

Emma glanced between the two of them as they traded guilty glances, and a small ember of jealousy began to form. She suddenly understood why Ruby was so willing to make an exception to her running rule.

“I should have known you’d be out here when I saw your empty bed this morning,” Ruby said.

Killian did a double take between the two ladies. “Wait, are you two roommates?”

Emma didn’t answer so Ruby spoke up for her.

“Ya, she’s actually my best friend. I had to beg her to come with me so I wasn’t alone in this house with all of these crazy girls.”

He made a face as he looked at Emma. It was a face she has seen far too often on Neal. The guilt ridden ‘I’m sorry’ face, but I’m really only sorry that I got caught. Of course he was still just a guy, after anything with boobs. Of course she didn’t mean anything to him. Of course last night had just been part of the game.

Game. Face. On.

“Ya, sorry, I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you, but I’m about to head back so we won’t have to fight for the shower.” She didn’t even wait to see Ruby’s expression before turning back to trail and taking off, running as fast as she could, creating as much distance between them as possible.

As she was leaving she heard Ruby call after Killian, before he made some sort of joke about her trying to get him all hot and bothered.

She showered, changed into a sweatshirt and leggings, leaving her damp hair down to dry naturally making sure her ear com was well hidden, and went into the kitchen where she was met with the smell of fresh coffee. There where two women sitting at the bar with steaming mugs. She immediately recognized Elsa by her platinum blonde bun, but didn’t identify the girl next to her until she came around the island to grab herself a cup. It was Tamara.

Both ladies got quiet so Emma went into undercover mode.

“Looks like great minds thing alike,” she stated holding up her now full mug. Elsa and Tamara followed suit toasting their mugs in the air as well. Emma sat down across the island from them breathing in her coffee.

It was Tamara that finally broke the awkward silent standoff they seemed to have been having. “So, anyone have a clue what they’ve got in store for us today?”

“I overheard some of the production crew talking last night. I didn’t catch all of it, but they said something about making sure the kitchen was fully stocked for today. I guess we’re having a big group meal?” Elsa was taking animatedly with her heads, clearly proud of herself for having the inside scoop.

“Morning Swan,” Robin chirped merrily before Will chimed in. “Did you have lovely dreams about anyone.”

Emma grumbled to herself, but not quietly enough.

Tamara raised one eyebrow at her. “Ah, I get it. Group dates not your thing? Can’t wait to get him all alone?”

Maybe it was just Emma’s cynicism leaking through but she was sure Tamara’s words were searing with contempt.

Emma forced the corners of he mouth to tug up. “You caught me.”

Before she could say anything more she heard Ruby in her ear. “Emma, remember we need her to trust us. I’m on my way down.” Trust was a four-letter word. Like she trusted Ruby to have her back, before she saw her sneaking around with Killian that morning.

A pang of guilt washed over her. Deep down Emma knew that she could trust Ruby with anything, even her life. And as far as Killian went, he wasn’t hers. She didn’t even want him she reminded herself. Ruby was just doing her job, giving him a reason to keep her around, while also making sure Tamara wasn’t alone with him.

“Personally, I’d love to see a catfight. Maybe you could throw some pillows in while it’s still early and everyone’s in the nighties. Come on, Swan, you know you could take her.”

She heard a thumping noise followed by an “oi, wud ya do that for” and forced herself not to snicker.

Robin’s voice came over the line next. “Sorry, Swan, ignore him.”

As Ruby arrived she grabbed a glass and some orange juice from the fridge and settled on a bar stool next to Emma, before more girls started trickling downstairs.

Twenty minutes later Mary Margaret appeared. “Okay ladies, you have thirty minutes to get ready and meet back here in the kitchen. We’ll bring in Killian and he’ll explain what you’ll all be doing on your group dates today.”

She left as quickly as she disappeared and Emma found Ruby dragging her back upstairs. Ruby went to the closet and pulled out a sundress tossing it on Emma’s bed, turning back to grab some matching strappy wedges, before whirling back to grab an outfit for herself.

She instructed Emma to change into the dress as she did the same. Both Women did their hair and makeup in relative silence, which was unusual for them.

“Are we okay? Did I do something to upset you?” Ruby asked.

Emma shut her eyes and threw her head back.

“No, it’s not you. I’m just stressed and honestly I was a little surprised to see you two together this morning.” Thinking better of her words and not wanting to seem jealous she added, “and I just thought people weren’t supposed to see us outside of the house.”

“What is she talking about, Ruby?” Robin’s tone was oddly serious. “Ruby, I know you’re a little free-spirited with your sexuality, but please tell me you didn’t sleep with him last night.”

“What,” she shrieked. “No, of course not. God, Locksley, you’ve been spending way too much time trapped in that van with Scarlett.”

“Hey,” Will shouted. “I resemble that remark.”

“Guys,” Emma cried out exasperatedly. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just saw them out jogging this morning.”

“Ugh, this is a huge clusterfuck.” Ruby sighed and fell back on her bed. “I didn’t mean to go jogging. I was trying to get to the van and he was heading off to the trails. He asked what I was doing and then made a crude joke about me not needed to hunt him down. I couldn’t tell him where I was really going so I told him I was just going for a quick jog and he invited himself along. I wasn’t even wearing the right bra for it, and now ‘the girls’ are screaming at me.”

Killian was in a good mood, a rarity as of late. He had intended to sleep in given how late he went to bed, but he woke with the first bit of light streaming through the window. He assumed it was due to the lack of alcohol, his body wasn’t used to being sober anymore. Regina had left strict instructions with the wait staff and film crew that Killian was not to have more than two drinks that night. She didn’t want him making an ass of himself in front of millions of viewers and editing could only do so much.

He also found that he had a lot of nervous energy still surging through his system from the previous night and needed to burn some of it off. Noticing that there was no workout equipment in his guesthouse, he decided going for a run would be the only option.

He strapped on his sneakers and headed out. About half a mile down though, he spotted one of the girls from the night before sneaking around. She was obviously trying to accidentally run into him. As he came closer and got a better view of her face he realized who she was. He couldn’t remember her name, but he certainly remembered her occupation. She was the lingerie model, and she certainly had the curves for it.

“And where might we be off to this fine morning?”

She jumped. He really needed to remember to clear his throat or something to announce his presence.

“Um.” She bounced on her feet looking around. “Please don’t tell anyone since we’re not supposed to leave but I was getting restless and really just wanted to get in a jog.”

“Okay then, after you.” She hadn’t exactly invited him along, but the whole reason she was even there was for him so of course she’d love his company.

She didn’t say anything, just started jogging slowly, painfully slowly. They may as well have been walking the trail. His only consolation was the view of her assets jiggling around as she bounced from foot to foot.

When they finally made their way to the docks, clearly not as private of an area as he would have imagined, he was shocked to see the blonde goddess already there. He wanted to talk to her, but his workout partner beat him to it.

He looked over to the panting girl next to him and back to Emma. Her face warped almost immediately. Was she jealous? Surely not, after all, last night she made it clear that she wasn’t entirely invested in winning the competition, or at least that’s how she made it seem. Maybe she did care.

Crap. Not only were they roommates but they were best friends and Emma was there unwillingly. This would make things more challenging if he wanted anything to happen with either of them. While Emma had plagued his thoughts all morning, he had pushed that idea deep into the back of his mind. He couldn’t allow her to be special, not for Milah.

She left quickly without saying much and the brunette next to him seemed unphased. She knew Emma better than anyone, and if she didn’t seemed bothered, then it must have meant Emma wasn’t bothered by them being together either. Why did that upset him?

When he returned to his guesthouse after his jog Mary Margaret was waiting for him. She gave him the schedule for the day, instructing him not to eat too much for breakfast. She told him she’d be back for him before the hour was up so he should shower and she’d send over hair, makeup, and wardrobe.

It didn’t take nearly as long to get ready this time. The hair lady let him keep his hair in the messy style he loved, and his outfit was much more relaxed. He got to pick between three shades of jeans, and then was handed a blue button down to match, which the wardrobe guy insisted looked better with the sleeves rolled up. The makeup girl still lingered though.

When Mary Margaret returned, he was all ready to go. She brought him into the kitchen where all of the ladies were already waiting. He scanned the room and found Emma in a back corner, standing with the model from that morning. He made a mental note that he was really going to have to learn some names soon.

Mary Margaret turned everything over to him so he could explain the challenge.

“Okay ladies,” he started. “I think we’ve all heard the age old adage that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. And we all know the whole reason we’re here is for one of you to try and win my heart.”

He could see all of ladies looking back and forth to each other nervously in anticipation.

“So with that in mind we’ve created your first challenge. This kitchen was fully stocked last night with all sorts of tasty ingredients.” He paused there to lick his lips per Mary Margaret’s instructions. “You’re challenge today is to create a dish that you think will amaze me, so I can get an idea of what it would be like to come home to you every day. You’ll have your choice of preparing an appetizer, main course dish, or dessert. You’ll break into three groups and each group will get a turn to impress me. The ladies who make the three least impressive dishes will be sent packing tonight.”

He turned to walk away so Mary Margaret could divide the girls into their groups. Just as he was about to leave the room he turned back and locked eyes with Emma.

“And ladies, don’t be afraid to, you know, really get in to it.” He winked and left.

The girls had been divided, Ruby, Emma, and Tamara all being in the last group. This way Emma and Ruby could keep an eye on her making sure she didn’t poison her dish somehow.

Emma found the entire thing degrading. The notion of a woman having to cook for a man to earn his affections was irritating and humiliating. It also didn’t help that Emma knew how to cook exactly three things.

Sensing her reluctance, Robin tried to give her an out. “Swan, we can walk you through a dish if you need. To be honest though, he really does prefer simple food.”

Emma whispered back under her breath that she was fine. She wasn’t going to put in a ton of effort, for him to only try two bites, especially since she knew she was already guaranteed to make it through the next round.

Emma settled on her most trusted dish, a grilled cheese sandwich. In an effort to look like she tried, she opted for some gouda cheese, sliced tomatoes, and a few basil leaves. Cooking it was easy enough, and soon she was helping Ruby frost some red velvet cupcakes.

Tamara seemed to struggle, clearly no better of a cook then Emma. By the time she was done she had flour all over her face and in her hair. When the time buzzer went off Killian returned.

Emma and Ruby had picked the two spots at the table furthest away from the door, making their dishes the last two of the day to be sampled.

As Killian made his way down the table he would either nod in acceptance, or grimace in horror. Most of the dishes seemed to agree with him, although one was burnt beyond recognition. When he got to the fifth contestant, the chef from New Orleans, he let out a moan signifying how good it was.

“You girls hear that?” Will asked. “That’s one of his sex noises.”

Both girls let out very unlady like snorts before Robin joined in.

“Don’t ask how I know this, but he’s absolutely right, although it’s more of a foreplay moan, his full on sex moans are much louder.”

Just then Killian moaned again and Emma and Ruby nearly fell on the ground laughing.

Everyone looked over to them with scowls on their faces, although Killian seemed more curious than anything.

“Are you two okay over there?”

“Um.” Both of them were still dying with laughter, but it was Ruby who found her voice first. “Sorry, she just made a dirty joke.” She paused looking a Emma, whose eyes blew wide knowing exactly what was coming. “About how you might sound in bed.”

All of the girls started giggling and Killian turned bright red.

#ILCK #If Looks Could Kill #hellotragic #wellhellotragic #cs ff

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montlove1 · 7 years ago

Link

English translation under the cut!

[INTERVIEW] MONT 몬트

MONT 몬트 has everything ready for their debut after their appearance on the program MIXNINE (믹스나인), from YG Entertainment and the channel JTBC. After getting a lot of attention because of the survival show, Narachan 나라찬, Roda 로다 y Bitsaeon 빛새온, are putting the finishing touches on their debut with FM Entertainment.

In BA NA NA we’ve interviewed the male trio and they told us very interesting things. Do you want to get to know them? ¡Continue with BA NA NA!

After a pre debut single and collaboration with Taru with two of the members, MONT start the path to debut after their success on the program MIXNINE, where they caught the attention of many people, who converted to a MINT –their fandom– instantly.

Get to know them better!

What’s the significance of your name? Why MONT?

We’re called “MONT”, which means “Member of The National Team”, which is to say, the national representatives of K-Pop.

All of you use stage names, what do they mean? Why Narachan, Roda y Bitseon?

NARACHAN: Narachan means a person pure of heart RODA: Roda is the child who waits BITSAEON: Bitseon means something new with great light

How would you define your style? What message would you like to send with it to your fans?

NARACHAN: We’re a group with a warm and close atmosphere. We’re idols, but we have a familiar style rather than a mysterious and cool concept. We want to enjoy that style on stage.

BITSAEON: I think we’re a group that aren’t typecast in only one style. Free style!

Since when did you have interest in music? What has been the best and worst moment during this long journey?

BITSAEON: A long time has passed since I started to be interested in music, since I was in primary school.

RODA: I started to get interested in music in school, in the first year of middle school.

NARACHAN: I also started to be interested in music in school. And in terms of what’s been the best and worst moment on this journey… Um… More than a worst moment, there’s been difficult moments. Now, in MONT, we’re three members, but in the beginning it was just me. It was good that they entered one by one, but during that time it was very difficult. The process of practicing by myself was the most difficult and lonely. The best is that we’re together now and that we have an interview for Spain and that there are MINT in Spain that we like.

What can we expect from MONT in 2018? Can we say that 2018 will be your year?

NARACHAN: For sure!! To be honest, 2018 looks like it’ll be our year. If we were able to do this interview for Spain... Doesn’t that mean we’d have the opportunity to come to Spain? I think that if we have the opportunity to go to Spain, 2018 will be our year.

We listened to your single “Sorry” and also the song "너를 생각 하나봐" by Taru. Is this the style you want to show as a group?

NARACHAN: We like this kind of music, but since we like to joke around and laugh, we want to make songs that are more fun and upbeat. Furthermore, we want to show various styles of songs. Please look forward to it!

We’ve seen MONT participate in MIXNINE, a very popular program. How did you feel after the program? Have you felt more interested in your careers?

BITSAEON: For me it was very short, but it’ll be a very good memory.

RODA: It’s been a great experience.

NARACHAN: It was a shame to leave early. It was fun, and a great experience. We’ve also made very good friends. After MIXNINE we all had the same idea, that we want to practice harder to show a better image of ourselves. We have three members, but in MIXNINE we were in different teams, and now we want to show ourselves as MONT. Please, look forward to it!

MONT has always impressed us with your attitude, effort, and big smiles. What do you think is the most charismatic thing about the group?

NARACHAN: Thank you for feeling that way about us.

BITSAEON: We’ve worked hard like everyone else. We’re very thankful to our fans for thinking that of MONT.

NARACHAN: Although we’re not good at all, we’ve tried hard. Thank you for recognizing our efforts.

Right now, MONT is carrying out a crowdfunding project with MAKESTAR that’s already surpassed its objective, but it’s open until April. How do you feel seeing that there are so many internatioal fans who support this project? What does it mean for you and your company to achieve this crowdfunding?

NARACHAN: In fact, we reached our goal only a week after starting the MAKESTAR project. It surprised us, because we didn’t know that we had the support of so many people. It was incredible. Thank you so much for giving us so much attention and expectation. Our company was also surprised by the results, with this impulse, we want to show a stronger MONT. So for the future, we intend to exceed your expectations.

We’ve met three of the members of MONT, but you have five members. When can we expect your debut and meet the rest of the members?

NARACHAN: Oh… You remember what I said. Honestly, we don’t know. It’s not that it’s a secret, but even we don’t know. MONT could debut with three members. You can expect to meet the five members, but if in the end MONT debuts as a group with three members, please, support us the same.

BITSAEON: Our MONT with three members will debut in 2018.

Is there a type of music or concept that you want to do in the future?

BITSAEON: I’d like to make music that I can use to communicate with many people. It’s my objective in the future, to be able to make music to communicate with our fans around the world, not only in Korea.

RODA: I want to make music with which many people can sympathize.

NARACHAN: I want to make emotional and healing music, and when we have concerts, we can enjoy it with you.

There are MINT from all over the world that support your music, how does that feel?

NARACHAN: MINT is the force that drives us to keep going forward and make music. Thanks to the effort of so many fans at an international level who’ve supported us, we’ve been able to participate in MIXNINE, and also to have interviews like this. We’re very grateful for MINT.

Would you like to have a concert in Europe? In which countries?

NARACHAN: Spain! We’d like to go to many countries, but I want to go to Spain, because it’s been the first country to contact us.

BITSAEON: I want to go to a country where MINT want us to go.

Can you say a few words to Spanish MINT?

BITSAEON: We love you, we love you very much. RODA: Our fans are the best. Thank you for your support. NARACHAN: Look forward to seeing us soon.

You can also enjoy this video interview:

youtube

Remember to follow the boys of MONT on all their social medias so you won’t miss a single detail of their debut:

Web: http://www.flymusicent.com

Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/montlove1

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/montlove1

And support the MAKESTAR project they currently have:

https://www.makestar.co/projects/singer_mont_01

Translated from Spanish by Mod Ethan

#mont #interview #180216

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kondo-hijikata · 7 years ago

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Pairing: Established Kondo/Hijikata Rating: M Summary: A meditation on where they’ve been and where they’re going--on Hijikata’s promise to make Kondo the most esteemed samurai and one that Kondo makes in return. Hakuouki verse, Kat-chan POV, written to this. [AO3]

tl;dr: They love each other a lot and Reimeiroku is a gift

The Listener

Beneath a blanket of celestial glitter he stood with his arm ghosting beside mine, while fireflies sparkled gold in the distance and a gentle breeze feathered whispers against our skin. We stared out at the endless rhinestone sky, listening as if the stars could speak and we could decipher their words.

I heard them.

I know it sounds irrational, like a consequence of being caught up in the emotions of a significant occasion, but I swear there was a promise somewhere in those points of light. And when it reached me, my breath hitched. Inspiration swelled like a wayward seed taking root in my chest, and the feelings which bloomed from it swept over in waves: first awe, then determination, then resolve.

On that serene night filled with cricket song, I’d become convinced our names would one day be written in stellar ink on that astral tapestry...that the stories of our past, our present, our future--the stories of us--were destined to be immortalized there.

Someday, someone would know our names. They would recount all we’d done and all we’d achieved, and those tales would inflame the heartbeat of generations treading the footprints we left behind.

Staring off unblinking beyond the horizon, I’d never been more convinced than then that it mattered, everything we managed to accomplish so far. Our dreams were admittedly absurd, our desires just as unattainable; even we laughed at them, yet...here, two men from Tama, stood together in samurai dressage on Kyoto soil, bathed in starlight and moonbeams and purpose.

It mattered. We mattered. A difference had already been made and this was only just the beginning.

That’s when Toshi spoke.

“Everything’s changed so much.” It was the tone he reserved for me--soft, like the silver glow spilling over us from the sky. “And it’ll keep changing.”

Foreigners arriving on boats of unthinkable scale, political unrest shaking up peace that lasted centuries, the pardoning of convicts to inflate the ranks, and farmers--farmers!--serving the Bakufu...indeed, this was a different age with different rules.

Still, there were some constants that would never yield, no matter how much the times did. I closed my eyes for a moment and my mouth eased into a smile.

A pointer finger raised to trace along Toshi’s pinky and then my hand slipped over to take his. Our digits entwined and I held on tightly without looking at him. “Some things never will.”

He exhaled shortly and in the peripheral, I saw him nod. “I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.” A beat followed the breathy reply and his tone reclaimed its vitality. “Right now, what we need to think about most is making a name for ourselves here.”

I hummed in agreement.

“And once we do that...” His grasp suddenly tightened to surpass mine.

At last, I faced him. His chin remained elevated, his eyes rife with fervor and still pointed toward the stars. “I swear I’ll make you this country’s most exalted samurai.” Toshi’s dark lashes fell in a prolonged blink and when they parted again, he gazed toward the garden and his voice diminished back to a whisper. “That’s why I’m here.”

Silence followed, but the strength with which our hands stayed clasped never lessened.

And my mind, it was running rampant, wondering how any verbal response could possibly follow that caliber of selflessness, of boundless dedication...how the intensity of his grip could say so much without saying anything at all.

I could hear what he left unspoken, just as I heard the stars.

But when it came my turn to speak, I once more was left humbled by how little I was able. I’d never found the words to accurately express what I harbored for him, despite all the years we’d spent at each other’s sides chasing the same wild dream. We were closer than ever now to achieving it and still, he deemed it necessary to assert that he put me before anything else.

I knew. I knew how he felt, and I wanted to believe he knew my regard mirrored his in equal.

I wanted to return that sentiment, that reassurance tenfold. I wanted to convey how deep my affection ran, that my adoration for him was just as unfathomable, that it was love, yes, but so much more. I wanted him to know that it wasn’t about my victory, but both of ours--because no matter how far I might sail on the vast ocean of destiny, it was his fate to be right at my side.

Language was too empty for that though, and my voice nowhere near passionate enough. So, I resorted to what I always did when I was unsure. I said his name.

“Toshi.”

The moment he turned to me, I became aware of how openly I wore my heart; taken aback, his eyes widened when they met mine and I watched as they instantly softened from there. He hadn’t expected what he saw, the blotches of faint pink staining their way across his face confirming that and how he attempted to avert his attention, just to have it return to me.

I nodded once, reached up to brush his bangs aside, and everything slowed to a pause.

The vastly changing world, the state of our own country, the Serizawa-Niimi migraines, the dilemma of proving our worth here and creating that ever-enduring name...all of it faded away when my lips touched Toshi’s.

It was chaste and controlled, the kiss; I tilted my head and his spine stiffened. But it was also rife with meaning I couldn’t articulate otherwise, and long enough only for me to make a single wish.

Please understand what I’m saying.

Then, I pulled back.

We were outside, after all. Middle of the night or not, there were eleven others here beside us and that was without counting Yagi-san and his family.

“Sorry.” I spoke first, not allowing him the opportunity to chastise me for kissing him publicly, even if I deserved it. My gaze was trained on the dark porch planks contrasting with our bare feet and another smile began inching its way upward when I imagined he would scold me anyway.

As I sought out his face again though, the irritation I anticipated was absent and in its place, something else: his eyes were determined, filled with a longing desire I’d come to know all too well--and more yet. Toshi’s other hand raised, his fingertips clearly intent to seek purchase on my cheek and he leaned back toward me.

A stiff tug denied him and I pivoted, starting for the open shoji. “Inside.”

He remained cemented in place, however, speechless while our arms extended from a distance that I found utterly unacceptable at this point. “You’re...unfair.”

“Sometimes,” I breathed, and pulled again to coax him into following.

“Kat-chan, the tray--”

--could wait. I never left my belongings about, but right now, the necessity of putting my hands on him and having his on me was greater than worrying about leaving dishware on the porch for a short while. Hours separated sunrise from this moment and the teapot would surely forgive me.

“Later.”

For once, Toshi relented and it wasn’t long after when his hair fell around me and all I could smell and touch and taste and know was him.

Raised as a farmer’s son, it was in my nature to wake early--but the crash and shout were what had me jolting into awareness before dawn that day.

“Kya!”

Heisuke. Unmistakably.

My eyes went as wide as Toshi’s, both of us lying on our sides with the sleep not so gently rattled out of our heads. We stared at each other in half-dazed quietude while the tirade of grumbling began outside the closed shoji.

“Who the hell’s leavin’ their dishes around so I can trip! Aghh, it’s too early for this, ughh--” A long yawn followed and from the subsequent sounds, it seemed Heisuke had begun to collect the items and rearrange them back on the tray.

He was in apparent need of some more self-sympathy as he did so however, since he went right back to talking to himself. In any case, it provided some insight to why he was so irascible, aside from it being too early an hour.

“Drink up, Heisuke. Let’s have fun, Heisuke. It’s only one jug, Heisuke. Yeahhh, cause you dumbasses didn’t have kitchen duty today and I forgot.”

Taking his leave, his voice became progressively distant the further his heavy footsteps carried him off. “Stupid Sano, stupid Shinpat-san, frickin’ good-for-nothings. Just wait until it’s their turn...”

At last, the complaints tapered back into silence and though I genuinely felt bad for the inconvenience, I could no longer suppress the amusement I’d kept at bay.

With a dramatic groan, Toshi threw an arm over his head and immediately slid it back down to the small space between us. His lashes fell and his brows pulled inward. “I told you.”

“You did,” I agreed, willfully accepting the admonishment. “Sorry.” Exhaling through my nose, I brushed the stray locks he’d disturbed out of his face and tucked them behind his exposed ear. “I got a bit preoccupied last night, though.”

This earned me a tiny smile and Toshi’s eyes opened again. He reached to clasp my hand, then drew it firmly against his chest. After a few moments, he pressed my palm even tighter to him and his mouth relaxed. “Ne, Kondo-sensei...”

Whenever the formal title came out, I knew he was about to start talking business. “Mm...”

“When you’re a daimyo and surrounded by servants and admirers, no one will complain about you leaving your dishes out.”

I pulled away just enough to turn the underside of my hand toward his so we could entangle our fingers as we did last night--and that was when they hit, the right combination of words which had for so long evaded me.

“Toshi-san...” I continued the playful etiquette and paused, falling serious and shifting my attention briefly to the latticing of our digits. “If I become a daimyo--”

“When,” he interjected with a half growl.

“When I become a daimyo,” I corrected myself, apparently much to his liking, “I intend to take care of my own dishes.” To that, he raised a brow. “But more importantly...” My thumb stroked against his. “I’ll still be waking up next to you.”

It was simple and plain, and completely lacking in the embellishments expected upon informing someone that they were the one. However, it was also a promise, and one I meant with everything I was.

Toshi stayed quiet and as the next seconds slipped away, we simply looked into each other’s eyes while I wondered if I’d been wrong to feel such confidence after all. Then, the makings of a smile suddenly hinted on his lips and he slowly leaned across the futon.

I didn’t stop him that time, didn’t pause to brush his long hair out of the way when the kiss deepened, didn’t say a damn thing when he shoved me on my back and straddled my hips.

But my body talked, and an excess of vows cascaded to unnecessarily reassure him the way his grasp had done the same for me last night.

I know you know. But I promise, I promise, I promise, I swear.

And when dawn broke into the first sparkle of sunlight at the horizon, I was sure that Toshi finally heard what I’d been trying to say all along.

I had no idea what forever was--but he and I were it.

#uss enterplaid #toshisami #writing on plaid paper #hakuouki #t1 #long post #anyway this is my first hakuouki story #btw i know it's a little too early for there to be fireflies at that point but...... aesthetic called #lol #konhiji

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