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missgeniality · 4 years ago

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A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this! This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy!

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods.

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning.

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold.

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity.

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully.

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.”

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?”

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation.

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?”

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious.

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well.

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight?

BTS is on your flight?

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography.

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger.

BTS who?

Biggest boyband who?

You only listen to Frank Sinatra.

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally.

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours.

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help.

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved.

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could.

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back.

Aw, you are in trouble.

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face.

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true.

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth.

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you.

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you.

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to.

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all.

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile.

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously.

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean.

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.”

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..”

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in.

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb.

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.”

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told.

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep.

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began.

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you.

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you.

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you.

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family.

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen.

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request.

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement.

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.”

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck.

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart.

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him.

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon.

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.”

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence.

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car.

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you.

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that.

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of.

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far.

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode.

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma.

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this.

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong.

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do.

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall.

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!"

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!”

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor.

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so.

But you’re not anyone else.

He isn’t just anyone.

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two.

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours.

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century.

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind.

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours.

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation.

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end.

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark.

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.”

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible.

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken.

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him.

The elevator door opens, and people walk out.

But that’s not where your attention is.

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm.

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad.

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present.

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.”

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile.

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too.

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space.

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!”

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed.

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again.

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?��

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.”

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”.

The punctuation was not vocalized.

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself.

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there?

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna.

So far, no sign of him.

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far.

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode.

And then you hear it.

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but.

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck.

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight.

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight.

“Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement.

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is.

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart.

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.”

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first.

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own.

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes. “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.”

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter.

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?”

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight.

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger.

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware.

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer.

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue.

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch.

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates.

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?”

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air.

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative.

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?”

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress.

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured.

“On your knees.” he commands.

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.”

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on.

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm.

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head.

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise.

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly.

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him.

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.”

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over.

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench.

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening.

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod.

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum.

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you.

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him.

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss.

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair.

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt.

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room.

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom.

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you.

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention.

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought.

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret.

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch.

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth.

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way.

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face.

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs.

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem.

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-”

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him.

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason.

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard.

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him.

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making.

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls.

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat.

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it.

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response.

“Go on baby, ride me.”

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better.

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!”

“That’s fucking right, only me.”

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away.

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve.

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full.

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high.

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face.

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!”

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.”

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way.

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole.

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs.

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core.

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours.

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.”

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon.

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart.

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.”

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness.

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy.

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance.

He finds none.

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go.

You inch closer.

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his.

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win.

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words.

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst.

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it.

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows. You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him.

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far.

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up.

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement.

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

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nachohypno · 3 years ago

Text

Nate and Dave - Ch. 15

Dave’s POV

I’m sure you already know how much a single person can change a whole lot of your way to see the world, or have your life take a 180° turn (Had to look this up, angles are weird.) just by standing in a corridor.

Now I was just happy to stare at my phone’s unlocked background. A pic I took of us while cuddling. I was kissing his cheek and staring at the camera, while he just laid below me, his face had a little smile and his eyes were closed.

He loved that pic. I loved it too, it was both cute and wholesome. Never been one to do those things, nor even Leslie managed to get me to change my Dallas’ Cowboys background, and we had a lot more pics together than Nate and I do.

It was a nice distraction. I would sometimes just unlock my phone to see that pic and feel a bit warm inside as I imagined spending more time with my soulmate. I loved him a lot, and I wouldn’t mind sticking around with him for a day, or two, or the rest of my life, just to make sure he has all he needs to be happy like I am when I’m near him.

We sat together at school, yeah. Nobody batted an eye. We hung out during our breaks, still no big catastrophe happened. After school, we usually have a date or spend some time together before heading to our respective houses (As much as I’d like, having daily sleepovers wouldn’t be wise).

According to… everyone in the world who knows that I’m hanging out with Nate (Which may be just 2 or 3 people that I’m aware of), the guy had a really positive impact on my behavior. He’s always encouraging me to help whenever I can and to be… nicer, in general.

I’ve already apologized to one of my favorite targets a few weeks ago, but decided to fully leave them alone. In my house, however, I’ve been trying to honor my soulmate’s wishes doing some house chores to help mom and pops around. I still don't think I'm ready to 'change my public image' that much. Kicking nerd's asses is fun... but mean and unnecessary.

Mowing the lawn, going grocery shopping, cleaning around whenever my parents seemed quite tired to do it, that kind of thing. My room wasn’t a messy place before, but now I could spend less time looking for my stuff!

And now… Nate was at his house. I left him there per his request, he told me we could hang out later today! But first, he had some homework to do.

I looked around and noticed the door was closed. I dropped my shirt and pants, felt the locket’s cold metal against my chest, and dropped on my bed.

I wasn’t intending to take a nap, just close my eyes and think of my soulmate was a nice enough plan for my evening.

As I closed my eyes, images of my first day with him invaded my happy place. Me getting his scent, slowly walking over to his locker, and noticing the guy I never paid attention to, the one that sat a few rows in front of me, and was usually in the middle of the way when I threw paper balls around.

Now that I thought of it, maybe I never noticed him because he always hid? He was hiding right now; it was obvious that he was using his locker as a cover. I stood there, though. Taking in the smell. Feeling myself realizing more and more of that nice thought I had never thought about after my pops told me about that weird phenomenon.

…I had found my soulmate. The love of my life… It wasn’t my girlfriend, but a guy from my class… I frowned both in the real world and in my fantasy.

In the fantasy world, I lifted and kissed him. He didn’t fight back, just returned the love I was giving him by returning my kiss. I didn’t care if anyone watched us. I loved this guy, and I still do now.

I love Nate Hall.

I rubbed my crotch in the real world, as I kept kissing him in my fantasy. That was more than enough. A single kiss, a single thought about my soulmate being happy and in love with me could make me so hard and horny…

“Dave?” A voice said. My soulmate’s? It sounded so different though… I kept kissing him. This was perfect. He was perfect. He was the love of my life, of course he was perfect! “Daaaaave?”

Was there someone invading my fantasy? Oh, wait…

I opened my eyes and saw a familiar face standing there, wide eyed. I had my hand on my hard crotch, rubbing it. This was definitely an uncomfortable position to be found at. I could normally hear when people are walking towards my room, but maybe I was so out of it this time that I didn’t hear him.

“Fuck, sorry— Didn’t wanna—” My cousin said. What the fuck was he doing here, anyway?! In my room! When the fuck did he arrive?!

“Shut the fuck up! And close the door!” I commanded, feeling anger building up on my chest, totally replacing the warm feeling from a few seconds ago.

Brad Walker. My cousin was my height, which was a bit funny given that he was a few years older than me. He was muscled too, but his shoulders seemed wider as his torso formed a sort of upside down triangle. He was a rugby player, maybe it had to do with that.

By looking at his face alone, he could pass as a brother because of the resemblance. He had the Walker’s smile, looking both chilled while also managing to look a bit menacing to keep everyone in their toes.

Doesn’t give him much use, given that he’s a Beta.

Brad closed the door behind him, and laid back on it. “Off to a rocky start, I guess. Let’s try that again… Hey, cuz!”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I could feel the anger diminishing. I thought of my soulmate, how would he react if he saw me like this. He would want me to be nice and polite to my cousin. I wanted that too, I wanted to be nice to him. I’m so hot-headed sometimes…

I smiled at Brad, and took a few steps forward to give him a bro hug. After that, I walked over to my bed and sat on the edge. “Hey man, wat’cha doin’ around here?”

“Uncle hasn’t told you? Pops and him thought about doing a little reunion, so we drove over and… here we are.” Brad left his hands in his pockets as he looked around. I noticed I was still almost naked, but didn’t give it much thought. I did put some shorts on, though. “Just the big guys, though. Mom was tired and decided to stay at home with the young ones, so it’s just pops, Logan and me today. The guys asked me to get you downstairs, so… shall we go?”

I pointed to my almost naked body. “Give me a few minutes, alright?”

-----

Dressed up in some shorts and a grey tank top, I walked downstairs with Brad following me closely.

Pops was there, with his brother and my other cousin. I walked over to Logan and gave him a brohug. I liked my cousins, they were like brothers.

“Hey man,” Logan greeted me after the hug. It was nice seeing him. Well, like, nice and not nice, because he was pretty annoying sometimes. So I hoped he didn’t get very annoying tonight. “Damn, you look buffed. Taking steroids already?”

I rolled my eyes. “Why do you ask? Need some to stop being so thin, cuz?”

“I swear I still don’t know how he's not broken after kicking that ball. Y’look like a stick, bruh” Brad backed me up. I liked that about Brad, he was pretty loyal.

Logan laughed. He’s not one of those chums who get mad at every tiny insult. He’s pretty easy going in that regard. Would need to learn from him, because I am one of those chums who get mad at every tiny insult. “Don’t pull my dick, assholes” He punched my shoulder, softly.

Even though Logan was a year older than me, he was an ass. And that’s coming from me.

Logan… He was alright, I guess. Not really very muscly like me or Brad, nor our parents for that matter. That’s because he liked soccer, ugh. Not even weightlifting, nah. Just soccer and cardio.

That got him looking well in a soccer uniform with long socks and knee pads, but… I really should reconsider his standing in my pack. Meh, might as well let him in just because he’s family, but I’ll most likely order him to start working out more to be a real wolf bro. (I’ll get into this later.)

“Uh… don’t wanna be rude or anythin’ but… how long are you guys staying? Thought about having a friend coming over and-”

“Ooooh, is it your girlfrieeend?” The soccer cuz said, moving his fingers towards my face. I slapped his hand off me, and he laughed. “Big meanie Daveee has a girlfrieeeend” He was like a little kid when it came to annoying others, and the worst part was that he nailed it.

“Oh, shut it, bro. You’re just jealous- Wait, that’s not what I was going to ask”

“Dad and uncle Adam thought about doing some beefs for tonight, soooo… family dinner, I guess? We don’t really hang out often, so I thought it would be nice. Besides, we all love beef” Brad answered, holding his arms behind his head and stretching for a bit.

“We’re about to leave, actually,” Uncle Thomas said, grabbing his car keys. “Gonna buy some meat and drinks for tonight. Y’guys wanna come? Hey cub, haven’t seen you in months...”

I greeted my uncle with a firm handshake, before he gave me a little punch on the abs. “Strong as a rock. Not bad, kiddo.” He ruffled my hair, before turning his attention back to my pops.

I was a bit too worried to think about hitting the store. Nate was supposed to come after he finished his homework, so we could spend the night together. I was supposed to pick him up. Fuck, what am I gonna do?

I shook my head and remained silent. Brad followed suit with a “Yeeaaah… No, been in that car for an hour and I’d really like to move my legs.”

“Pussies,” Logan said in a snarky tone. I raised my eyebrow, but decided to take care of him later. “I’ll go, may find some hot chicks in this friggin’ town…”

My uncle looked similar to my dad, just a few little differences. Dark blond hair, a bit longer. Their sizes were similar, but my dad was bigger. It was weird to think that my uncle was the one who activated the werewolf curse in a bar fight and not my dad.

If you kill someone, whether it was intentional or accidental, you can’t transform into neither your werewolf or full wolf forms without experiencing a lot of pain. Could be avoided by never turning into those forms but…

Transformation is mandatory during the full moon. This whole thing seemed really thought out to punish those who don’t follow the rules, right?

Brad grabbed my arm “Hey, since we’re staying behind apparently, wanna catch up?” He pointed back to the stairs, probably wanting to go to my room.

I nodded, nothing better to do. And it would give me some time to think about what excuse I could give Nate.

Again in my room, Brad closed the door behind me. “So… a friend? I mean, the locket already gave me an idea but I didn’t you were bringin’ her to your place already…”

“It’s nothing, really…” It was something, a lot. I loved wearing this locket, it reminded me of Nate. Thus meaning, it was pure bliss in a single necklace.

“So, what’s the locket for? Always thought you’d end up with that Leslie chick you talked so much about” Oh, I forgot. My cousins never met my ex.

I shook my head, but was kind of hesitant to talk about it. In the end, I eased myself to the idea as I thought more about Nate. “Got a soulmate now, cuz.” Was my answer. I was proud of myself! Not even a half of the average werewolf population gets to meet their soulmate once in their lives!

I was lucky, it was like, one in a whatever-number-of-people-there-are-in-Earth!

“Waitwaitwait, not gettin’ it. So, you and Leslie… or is it another girl?”

“It’s a guy, his name is Nate” I mumbled out quickly. I wasn’t embarrassed, but at the same time, I felt like a chunk of ice just fell through my stomach.

Silence.

“So… you’re gay now?” Brad said, giving me a thumbs up. “It’s alright, I don’t mind gay people”

I honestly couldn’t get how he got that assumption. “What? What makes you think that?”

“You’re with a guy, like dating and loving him and you even have a locket… I mean, that’s pretty gay. But it’s cool, it’s not that weird. Lots o’ people take some time to discover their sexuality and stuff— Uh… Cuz?”

I stared at him. Not staring, actually. I was glaring at him.

Brad gulped. “I fucked up, didn’t I?” While he did sound afraid, his face displayed a mix of nervousness and worry. I always laughed at him when he asked if he fucked up, like it was a regular thing for him to do but still needed other’s approval about it.

I just glared at him, making sure he knew I wasn’t happy. I walked forward and held my gaze into his, trying out my favorite part of being an alpha.

As I focused on him, his expression slowly started to relax, then vanish, as his pupils dilated.

“On your knees” I commanded, making sure he got it as an order, not a ‘humble request’.

His blank face didn’t move an inch, as he dropped to his knees and looked forward. His eyes, besides the pupils being dilated, looked glazed over as his irises changed from hazel to pure yellow. The beta color!

“Who’s your alpha?” I mocked him, as he blankly stared ahead.

“You are, sir. David Walker is my alpha” Brad droned. I ruffled his hair. He was a good beta.

“And who do you have to be respectful towards?”

“My alpha, sir. Being respectful towards their alphas is the sign of a good beta, sir” Brad answered, in a matter of fact voice.

…I should probably explain what the heck is going on.

I’m an alpha. I’ve mentioned quite a few times already, but I never mentioned anything about other ranks.

You have omegas, who are wolves without a pack. They’re usually weaker than alphas and betas. Then there are the betas, werewolves already in a pack.

Omegas can survive quite well on their own, it’s not a requirement to have a pack. But if you want to get stronger… Getting an alpha is the best you can do.

That’s one of the reasons Pops is so proud of me. He and mom conceived an alpha in their first try! Nate usually nerds out about me sounding like a “Jerry Stud” whatever the fuck that is.

So, since I’m an alpha, both my older cousins are ‘my pack’ to call it some way. And you just got to see one of my favorite alpha skills.

Much like a soulmate bond, being a beta for an alpha makes them completely loyal to the alpha, which means… I have some degree of control over them. Not as much control as my love has over me, but still… It’s fun!

“So, won’t you apologize for calling me a fag— Uh… gay?” I’m still getting used to not using that word. Everything for my Nate. Can’t be a bully anymore, right?

I didn’t have to ask twice. Brad seemed to struggle a bit against it, but after a few seconds he said “I apologize, sir. I didn’t intend disrespecting you like that…” It was a cold, empty apology. But it did the trick. I’m not a picky guy, he’s my cuz after all.

But that did make me wary. Should I tell Nate to not come after all, at least until these guys leave? Fuck, they were going to ruin my evening with my soulmate.

“Uh… what do you think about my soulmate being a guy?” I walked in front of him, back and forth. I was trying to think what would be the wisest decision here. A second opinion would be useful.

“I personally don’t care, sir. You can love whoever you want, especially if you met your second half.” My cousin answered.

“I mean, yeah. But what would Uncle Thomas and Logan say if they found out about it?” I should uh… ‘wake him up’ or whatever already. But I liked him this way. You can say I’m a dominant guy. Not saying I lust over my cuz, that would be incest, but ordering him around is fun.

“I don’t really know. He’s your soulmate, they shouldn’t say anything. Logan is a fellow beta though, it wouldn’t be wise to fear anything from him. He’s as loyal to you as I am, my alpha.” Not going to lie, I loved hearing that.

Being in control of the situation, having everyone in my surroundings looking forward to being with me, or do as I say out of fear/respect/whatever… That’s why I loved the not-studying-part of school!

As a little reward for his opinion, I did what Nate would have done to me if I did particularly good: Scratch the back of his ear. Brad’s head got some emotion again, as he got closer to my hand and started panting with his tongue out.

“There, there. Good beta cuz” I mumbled, as I machinated a plan in my head. I had an idea, but it would be a bit… not ideal. I stopped scratching the good spot, and his expression blanked out again. I crouched in front of him, and looked straight into his eyes. “I want you to listen very clearly to me, understood? Listen and do as your alpha says…”

If Brad wasn’t in ‘beta mode’ before, then he definitely was now. His irises were still a bright yellow, but his pupils were even smaller now. “I’d do anything for my alpha, sir” placing a hand on his chest. I knew what that symbolized, I used that expression with Nate before. It freaked him out a little.

“Y’know, my soulmate is kinda a big deal for me so… I want you to treat him like a king, alright? No mean or cocky comments, just be nice to him and I’ll be nice to you, got it?” I had to search for the words to say this, it wasn’t really a piece of cake as I expected. “Think of him as an extension of your alpha. Make him feel good and do what he says, and you’ll be good to go.”

He frowned a bit, but his face quickly eased up. “As you command, my alpha. Your soulmate’s wellbeing will be my top priority, sir.”

Yeah, that’s more like it. “Get up now.” I said and just… walked away from him. I wasn’t interested in bossing him around anymore, not for now at least. But actually…

“Lift your shirt.” One last command wouldn’t hurt, and he obeyed without a question, like a good beta. I walked towards him and gave him a little punch on his abs. Didn’t even flinch, he was keeping up with me! Of course, I wanted the best for my pack! “And… Beta out.”

My cousin snapped out of whatever that was, his yellow irises returning to a nice hazel, as his pupils got back to normal. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and smiled. “Huh, 5 minutes. Wonder what you did there” The guy said, smiling at me.

He couldn’t get mad at me. I was his alpha! I mean, he could… but there wasn’t much he could do about it!

“Meh, you don’t really care, do you?” I said, trying to sound uninterested.

Brad shook his head. “Nah, I really don’t. I really trust ya, cuz. Best alpha around!” Couldn’t tell if he was following the ‘you don’t really care’ thing, or if he was being honest, but I didn’t really care.

“That’s a good beta” I mumbled, going closer to him again to scratch the back of his ear. God bless Nate and discovering that hidden pleasure for me. I loved when he did that to me, as I mentioned, and I loved doing it to other wolves, too!

“What are you two ladies doin’ up here- What the hell are you two doing?” Logan entered the room. My other older cousin, although younger than Brad. Rather than being as muscular as we were, he was more chilled. Yeah, he was in good shape, but he didn’t look like a big gym bro like us.

This was probably due to him preferring Soccer rather than football or rugby. Each to their own, but soccer isn’t that fun to begin with? I tried to not give it much thought and respect his hobbies.

“Brad, close the door and put on some music.” I ordered him, walking over to Logan and wrapping an arm around his small soccer player’s shoulders. “You just made my whole evening way easier, lil’ cuz”

I wondered if Nate would like this. I’d have to send him a message telling him that I wouldn’t be able to pick him up… That felt bad, but at least these guys wouldn’t bother him tonight!

-------

Nate’s POV

Dave invited me to his house, but asked me to walk over. He told me we could have a family dinner, which was alright. I liked his family. Mr. Walker was funny and Ms. Walker was really nice to us. We just had one family dinner and Dave spent most of his time zoned out.

And also, there was a full moon, which I didn’t get to see.

Was I glad they considered me ‘family’? It pushed me out of my freaking mind when Dave sent me that text.

I was walking slowly. Not like a snail and doing baby steps, but I felt like I should slow down as much as I could and… be fashionably late? It was a good walk, from my house to his. But I didn’t mind.

The town was quiet, not much stuff happening as I walked out of my house, and on the way to Dave’s neighborhood.

I thought about buying some ice cream or some nice dessert to make a good impression this time, but hey, I don’t really think they’ll care about it that much. They highly prefer meat, as far as I know.

Stopping in the middle of the way, I grabbed my phone and checked my maps app. “Should have arrived 10 minutes ago… fuck, that shortcut would have been really useful…” I mumbled to myself, changing my route and getting back on the way.

I was nervous at fuck, that maybe explained my silliness. And I also never walked to this part of town. It wasn’t… bad, but it was a bit more private than the usual neighborhoods, which fits Dave’s family pretty well due to them being werewolves, and stuff like that.

I still had some time to cancel and be like “Oh, hey. My… hamster pet is sick and I want to look after him?” I kind of sucked at making up excuses, that's why I never wanted to be late on homework due to laziness.

It was late now, just another block and...

I reached Dave’s house. It was weird arriving here on my own. Guess I really got used to my soulmate acting as my personal driver.

The rooms inside were on, Dave’s car and his dad’s were outside the garage. The closer I got to the front door, the louder I would hear laughter coming from inside. Were they having visits? It didn’t sound like Dave’s laugh. His laugh was… deep and dumb-sounding.

I stopped now. What if they had visits? What if Dave didn’t tell them I was coming? I was shaking a bit, before taking a deep breath.

Taking my final steps to be in front of the main door, I knocked and waited for someone. Loud footsteps later, Adam Walker (Dave’s dad) opened the door.

“Hey bud. Didn’t know you were coming, but uh…” He motioned inside with his head. “Come in, the big guy is in his room with his cousins. We’re having a family dinner”

“Thanks, mr. Walker-” But he stopped me as I set a foot on the door. The older man leaned in and started whispering.

“Don’t be afraid. If you don’t want to be picked on tonight, try your best to not sweat as you did the last time. Dave will probably have you covered, though.” He patted my back, and moved aside to let me in. After that, he closed the door behind me. “Dinner will be ready in a bit so… feel free to go mingle with the guys upstairs.”

Uh… that wouldn’t be needed, apparently. Dave and a pair of guys were coming downstairs, and as soon as my puppy boy saw me, he rushed towards me to give me a big tight hug. “Missed you a lot, bruh! Didn’t know there was going to be more family tonight so… I’m really sorry for that. But I’m sure we’ll have a good time!”

The other two guys just stared at me, arms folded. One of them was big, and buffed. He had an absent smile, a bit creepy but also inviting. The other was smaller than him (And Dave, for that matter).

“Uh… since your uncle is here, these are…”

“Cousins, yuh” Dave finished the sentence. I made the connection on my own, but it was good to get some confirmation. “Big one’s Brad, small one’s Logan.”

“Hey, I’m not small!” Logan complained, trying to punch Dave’s arm. He didn't seem to do much damage though.

“Yeah, and I’m a bottom, heh” My werewolf jock replied, obviously mocking his cousin. I noticed Brad chuckling, and I couldn’t help but find that funny though. I always wondered if Dave would like to bottom at least once. I feel like he’d be alright if I asked him for it, due to me having full control and all that...

After the introduction was over, and both guys shook my hand, my focus shifted again to who I wanted to be with: Puppy boy was looking at me too.

“I can’t find the words to tell you how glad I am to see you here, though” Dave said, before pulling me in for a good make out session. In the middle of the living room. He was feeling happy or romantic, I assumed? I was surprised his cousins didn’t react at all, and just looked like they were watching some kind of movie.

“Wait, what the heck?” Oh geez.

A man blasted in the living room, and tried to separate me from Dave. The puppy boy reacted quickly though, and pushed him away. “What the fuck, old man?! This is my soulmate!”

Before the guy could go back at us, Dave’s dad popped in to save the day! “You guys just had to hold on for a bit until dinner was ready!” I felt like the ‘complaint’ was more directed towards who-I-thought-was Dave’s uncle, and Dave himself.

The puppy boy seemed a bit angry, he got in front of me and made sure I was out of view. It was a cute touch. I noticed the other two guys taking a step towards us too, like siding with Dave in this.

“Just, calm down, all of you, and start setting the table. Try to not take your eyes out while you do, alright?!” Mr. Walker surely knew how to take care of these situations. Was this a normal thing?

After a long stare, both guys nodded, and we all scrambled.

-----

I was sitting next to Dave and that other guy, Brad. Across me, Mr. Walker looked around with a calm expression, as he chewed on his meat piece. Thomas, Dave’s uncle, wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to me. His eyes were like daggers, fixated on me as I nervously stared at my plate.

It was amazing, and terrifying. The resemblance and also differences between both werewolves were quite noticeable. Mr. Walker was probably calm because he already knew about my thing with Dave. The cousins seemed to be quite attentive towards my every movement and sound. I felt like their eyes would automatically fixate on me at any little sound I would make, which was killing me inside. (Were they glowing yellow? Maybe it was my head playing tricks…)

Was I doing something wrong or offensive? I should excuse myself from the table.

“So…” Uncle Thomas started, before biting a big chunk of beef and gulping it down quickly. “Uh… soulmates, that’s neat. How did you two meet each other?”

‘First family dinner all over again…’ I thought to myself, as I tried to find the words for my answer.

“School, I was just walkin’ around and smelled him. Knew he was the one so… tried my best, huhuh.” Dave saved my ass, although his story was different this time. We lied during the first dinner. I couldn’t remember the excuse anymore, and that’s what bothers me about lies.

They’re usually hard to remember. That’s also the reason I’m a bad liar, my memory is awful.

“Yeah, that’s how it usually happens. You just walk around and get the smell, all the soulmate stories start exactly like that, ain’t that right?” Dave’s uncle looked at his brother next to him, who gave him a really angry looking frown.

“Go fuck yourself, got’cha?” I understood that reaction, The man lost his soulmate, I guess the memories were still painful? I’m no psychologist to tell.

“Yeah, sorry, shouldn’t have mentioned that… So uh… back to you, kiddo.” Oh, fuck. Dinner was nice, the meat was delicious! But Dave’s uncle didn’t seem to be… really fond of me. I was glad to see (Not really, now I sound like a dick) that he was bothering Mr. Walker too, so it’s nice to see that the consensus was… Dave’s uncle was a loud mouth ass. “You don't seem to have big muscles, but that's pretty much a given when you're a human."

“I’m sorry…” I mumbled, looking up at him. I tried to sound nice and not afraid, like Mr. Walker suggested before but… it was hard. “Not really good at sports and stuff like that, I guess-”

“Can see that. At least you’re a valedictorian, right?” I shook my head. High grades weren't my top priority. I did well at school, but didn’t focus enough for high grades to be a given. “No? That’s too bad.”

“Tom…” His brother tried to calm him. I noticed Dave needed some calm too. The big guy was clenching his fist with a lot of strength, as he held his knife with the other hand. He didn’t seem eager to cut the meat though, so I decided to step in for him.

I grabbed his fist beneath the table, feeling as it relaxed the longer I touched him. At the end, he grabbed my hand too, and I noticed his expression relaxed as well.

“Dad, don’t be such a dick. The guy’s fine, cut it out.” One of Dave’s cousins, big guy, uh… Brad! He seemed to be standing up for me, for some reason. He angrily stared at Dave’s uncle, without an apparent reason.

Uh… I felt like I was missing a big chunk of information here.

The uncle just stared back at his son, a bit surprised by his reaction. But before he could answer, or even react at all, Dave’s dad spoke up. “Well, it’s been fun, a neat reminder of why we never have family reunions, heh.”

“Ow, c’mon. It’s just a big friendly talk between men and…” He looked at me, seemingly ready to strike another insult. I grabbed Dave’s hand tighter.

But Dave’s dad didn’t give him the chance. “Dinner’s over. You guys will be going upstairs.”

“Roger that” I mumbled, leaving my plate with still a good chunk of meat. I didn’t let go of Dave’s hand, but he followed right after me.

“But I wanted a bit more beef...” The other cousin said. Logan, if I remember correctly. He was small, rather than muscled and big. I related to him because of that, glad to see not all male werewolves are big muscular people.

“Take the plate” Brad whispered to him, before following us upstairs.

“Okay, what’s going on-” I started to say, but my boyfriend shushed me.

“I’ll tell you all about it upstairs, just follow me and don’t make loud noises. Remember that they can hear everything in here” Dave interrupted me, as we went to his room. ‘Great, now my werewolf seems to be part of a mafia’.

-----

Locking the door behind us and his cousins, Dave ordered his cousins to stand aside, and they obeyed right away. “I’ll put some music here and…” His phone started playing some loud rock, but not loud enough to make the place feel annoying. “There, we can talk now.”

“Whaaat’s going on? And just tell me already, it feels quite bad to be insulted for no reason.”

“You weren’t really being insulted, bruh. I was.” Dave explained, motioning for me to go closer before leading me to his bed. “Uncle has… a bit of a problem, like pops has. But while pops knows when to shut his mouth, my uncle doesn’t, huh.”

“I don’t really see the insulting part there but continue…” I pointed out, but Dave just chuckled. Which seemed to cause a chain reaction and the werewolves guarding the door in front of us chuckled too.

“Sorry, yeah. Uh, well… My uncle is just bitter because my dad got an alpha son on his first try, me of course” I could figure that out on my own. The ‘I’m an alpha’ part I mean, he says it all the time. “Brad and Logan here are my betas. They were born as omegas, yeah, but I got them in my pack by willing choice because betas are usually stronger than omegas.”

The cousins were on the other side of the room. The small one, Logan, was tasting his meal with delight, while Brad leaned in to… hear our chat? They looked directly at Dave as soon as he mentioned them, before each one of them saying a “Hey” “‘Sup?”

“Why are they so… attentive?” Nosy mode on. I wanted to get answers, mostly because my curiosity was triggered now. ‘Obedient’ would have fitted better than ‘attentive’ though.

“Asked them to take care of you for the night, because I wasn’t sure if It would look good for me to do it. Pops is usually really fond of my uncle, but I think he didn’t like seeing him insulting my soulmate to get to me, bruh” Dave then put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. “I can put them back to normal if you want me to, but… they don’t really mind, so why bother?”

Uhm… I risk myself sounding like a dick right now, but I found the idea of the two cousins under Dave’s control quite arousing… I’m not going to say it to him, of course! I didn’t want him to feel bad or anything if he saw his soulmate interested in other guys…

“Where are they going to sleep, by the way? Or are they leaving after a bit?” It was after dinner already so… it wasn’t a bad thing to ask. Like, we had school tomorrow...

“Living room, sofa. One of them, at least. I’ve got a sleeping bag, because they both can’t fit on the sofa, so while the guest room is occupied by my uncle and… yeah, I’ll go get that old thing. Gimme a sec.”

Dave got up from the bed and left the room, leaving me sitting there alone as the two cousins stared at me.

“Hope the meat is still good…” I told Logan, trying to sound nice. I felt a bit bad, Dave made them look after me, and that made them ‘defend’ me against their father. Yeah, I definitely feel bad now. “Sorry for crashing into the dinner.”

“You kiddin’? You seem like a cool guy, dad was just being an ass. It’s okay though, I think he likes you” Brad answered, and I feel like he’s the one “kiddin’” here. “He’s just… We don’t like family dinners, we do them out of courtesy. Nothing personal, dad can be naturally obnoxious sometimes”

I wanted to say sorry again or something like that, but that’s when Dave bursted in with the sleeping bag. “Y’guys play rock paper scissors to decide who’ll sleep with the alpha… Like, beside me, don’t get weird ideas.”

I chuckled, as Dave threw the sleeping bag next to the cousins, and started taking off his shirt as he walked towards me. “You’re sleeping over, right? It’s still early, but I can make up for the bad time by cuddling, if you’d like.”

To be honest, it felt like a good idea to distract me from that… failed family dinner night. Never again I’ll ‘crash’ into a Walker dinner (Even though Dave knew I was coming over). Too many surprises for a lifetime, thank you.

I laid down, rolled over to leave him room. We wouldn’t be sleeping yet, I hoped. The big guy laid down beside me and quickly pulled me in.

“Fuck…”

“Yeah!” We turned towards the other guys and noticed Brad had won the rock paper scissors game. Logan just seemed defeated, he grabbed his empty plate and looked over at us.

“Well, g’night bros. Gonna be in the living room, I guess.”

“Buh-bye” Dave said, before turning around again and holding me in his arms. “Sorry again for all that before, bruh. Let's get some sleep, a’ight?”

Honestly, I think I didn't feel as offended as I should have. Best to just let things slide off, I guess. I decided to just nod, and doze off while hearing Brad setting up his sleeping bag.

I didn’t pay him much mind, though. My puppy boy's hug felt nice enough to help me relax quite quickly...

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

Author’s note:

Took me long enough. But chapter 16 went up already, so gotta keep up with the content.

Chapter 16 is available in my Patreon, but it will go up as soon as I publish Chapter 17 there. Shouldn’t be long, I feel very inspired lately! (Hopefully it won’t take as long as this one did 😅).

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it <3.

#nate and dave #werewolf #mind control #brainwash #gay hypnosis #straight to gay #hypnotized #brainwashing

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peppers-writing · 4 years ago

Text

Robot Vampire

CatShifter!Jaskier and poor Advice Columnist/Witcher Geralt

Tags: nudity but in a casual oh yeah i’m naked oh well let’s cuddle, fluff, humor

Written for flashfic whoo; thank you to @resident-beekeeper, @astaticworld, @king-finnigan, and @the-third-bard for helping me out w/ this one.

On A03 here.

“Stop it.”

The ball of fur writhes furiously by his hand.

“Jaskier, I said stop.” Geralt wonders how life keeps throwing him the slimiest, most rotten of bones.

“Ow! Fuck, no biting!” Jaskier snaps his jaw and turns away to curl in on himself. Geralt goes back to typing. The article’s due by the weekend and it sadly will not write itself. When he’d signed up to be a journalist, Geralt’d figured they’d just have him writing the monster and or pet forum. Easy work.

Sadly, he’d been hired as an advice columnist, an agony aunt. Even sadder, Jaskier refuses to turn back into his human form today.

He’s distracted by a soft paw rubbing against the back of his hand. Pitiful, pitiful eyes look up at him, ears flattened and oh no. Geralt takes a deep breath and steels himself. “No, I already gave you all of my salami.”

Jaskier gives him the dirtiest look with his startling blue eyes and Geralt makes a note to check his shoes for surprises before he puts them on. He shifts on the bed, sitting with his legs criss-crossed underneath him.

His flatmate... Geralt should’ve known. The rent was too cheap and the ad was only looking for nonhumans. Geralt should have known, but Lambert had done a background check and he hadn’t said. It’s no excuse; Geralt should’ve known that there was something up with the shit-eating grin on Lambert’s face when he’d given him the go ahead.

The ginger cat burrows under his wrist, tail flicking idly as he reads what Geralt’s got on his screen. Jaskier adores Geralt’s job, the dirty drama he gets on a daily basis soothes his flea-ridden soul.

This week’s question is an especially wonderful one.

Dearest White Wolf,

My partner is a doppler. I, of course, have no problem with this— I love them with my entire being, I could wax poetic on their beauty, inner and out. But dating a doppler does come with its issues. Namely, I keep forgetting their latest face. Now, it’s a spooky thing waking up to a face you don’t know. I thought I was giving them a kiss good morning, but when I opened my eyes, it was a face I’d never seen and I yelped before promptly falling off the bed.

Now, my partner won’t stop laughing at me for it. They take one look at me before bending over in laughter. They’re beautiful when they laugh, I love them incredibly, but I would like to cuddle them without having them shake in barely-contained laughter behind me. Just for one night.

Please advise, Wolf. I await your answer.

Yours,

Touch-Starved

Jaskier yowls from beside him, clicking his teeth at the screen where Geralt has one awful sentence written.

Dear Touch-Starved,

I am sorry to hear that.

Thank you,

White Wolf

The cat chitters at his reply, no doubt adding embellishments and cooing over the nature of Touch-Starved’s relationship but it’s in Cat and Geralt, luckily, does not speak it.

“Will you shut up if I give you scritches?” Jaskier yowls before tilting his chin up. His tiny head presses into Geralt’s giant hand as he pets his flatmate. He continues to type with his left hand with his friend successfully distracted.

Dear Touch-Starved,

I am sorry to hear that. Take a picture of their face

Thank you,

White Wolf

His hand is very suddenly attacked by a blur of orange and claw.

Dear Touch-Starved,

I am sorry to hear that. Take a picture of their faceakdfhadsf

Thank you,

White Wolf

Geralt is a monster hunter by profession (the writing’s a side job, to pay the rent and the like) so he does not yelp. When Jaskier will inevitably make fun of him later, he will deny it because he is a monster hunter by profession and Jaskier’s accusations are untrue because he did not yelp.

He picks Jaskier gently, cupping his legs and furry ass as he brings him to face level. “You’re a bastard,” he tells him, voice even, “Please let me work, bastard man.” Jaskier, impossibly, rolls his eyes and hops out of his hands and onto his head. He makes a nest of it and settles down comfortably. Geralt rolls his own eyes and turns back to his work, praying for a text from Vesemir. Where was a kikimora-that-wants-to-eat-you when he needed one?

The document stares at him.

Dear Touch-Starved,

I am sorry to hear that. Take a picture of their face. Set it onto the lock-screen of your phone.

Thank you,

White Wolf

He stares back. Jaskier’s tail brushes against his ear. It’s good enough, time to move onto the next one. It’s a miracle they pay him for this shit; something about his straightforward, gruff answers keep his readers entertained.

Jaskier meows from his perch, before hopping down onto his lap. “What, am I not giving you enough attention?” He scratches behind his friend’s ear and rubs his hand down his back and up his tail. “I don’t know why I put up with you, stinky bastard man. You're an awful, stinky bastard man, I don't know why I do.” The shapeshifter yowls and pounces on him; Geralt very suddenly finds himself flat on the bed with a naked Jaskier on his chest, scowling down at him.

“I do not smell!”

Geralt throws his head back and stares at the ceiling, contemplating his life briefly. He looks up again at his friend, his brown hair mused and his blue eyes annoyed. “You’re awful, get off of me.”

“Not until you admit I don’t smell! I may be a small furred animal at times, Geralt,” he pokes a finger into Geralt’s breastbone none too gently, “but I do not smell.”

Geralt groans, long-suffering. “You’re right. You don’t, now get off of me.” Jaskier looks at him a moment longer.

“No, I don’t think I will.” His eyes shine. He lays down, resting his cheek against Geralt’s chest, and settles in. “It's quite warm here.” Geralt could push him off if he wanted to. He considers it briefly and doesn't.

“You’d be warmer if you put clothes on.” Jaskier peers up at him, brows scrunched before his face smoothes out as if just now realizing the feeling of his air-chilled iron nips press against Geralt's chest. He contemplates, shrugs, and settles in again.

Geralt flutters his eyelids in annoyance even if he doesn’t mean it much, and pulls his duvet over to cover his friend. He closes his laptop with his big toe and wraps his arms around his friend’s waist.

Jaskier makes a happy noise and snuggles into the warmth.

The doppler issue can wait until tonight. Geralt shifts and settles in for an afternoon nap with his dumb shifter friend.

#geraskier #jaskier #geralt #the witcher #the witcher fic #My writing

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unnecessarywriting · 4 years ago

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Rainy Day Confessions - Harry Potter

Harry Potter x reader

A/N: I am happy to be back writing here. Please let me know what you think and send me requests. I have changed the list so check before you request. Thank you!! Also no Cho hate here, it just fit for the storyline.

Rainy Day Confessions

You know, crushing on someone is harsh. The heart beats harder in your chest at every glance; your cheeks heat up at the sound of a laugh. When your eyes meet, you forget the most basic instinct: to breathe. When it is one-sided, it’s more painful. Each glance is just passing; each laugh is because of someone else. Even the meeting of irises and pupils is just coincidence. These thoughts pass though your head and cause the ache that weighs on your soul. His eyes shine like emeralds, and his laugh is the hum of an innocent bee. Of course these observations are some that many have made before me. Most of these others have been more successful on their advances at staking claim to the one their hearts belong too.

Monday has consisted of classes with the one who you have been falling for. He, of course, thought that talking back to the pink toad herself was wise and wound up in another detention. You sat in the back of the class waiting patiently for her insufferable voice to stop screeching in your ears. You were doodling on your parchment when she made her way to your desk.

“Miss Y/L/N!”

You looked up in annoyance and surprise.

“If you are so insistent on not paying attention in my class, you can spend time reflecting in detention tonight.” Of course you had detention with her, and of course it had to be with him.

The end of class came with the end of the day, which meant that detention was awaiting you. You walked towards the pink hell, and awaited for your courage to knock on the door. Her shrill voice told you to come in, and as you entered, your heart dropped. You were alone. Never had you been alone with this woman before, and that was enough to strike fear into your body. Silently, you sat at the table, and in front of you sat the infamous quill. You had detention with her once before, and you could recall the pain it that quill can cause. You sat in silence until you heard a knock at the door. He walked in and sat across from you with a matching quill.

“Mr. Potter, you shall write ‘I shall not talk back’ and Ms. Y/L/N, you shall write ‘I shall not be distracted’ until the messages sink in.” The both of you nodded and began to work.

A half an hour passed, and the first drop of blood fell from your hand. Another twenty minutes passed before you were both let free. You walked slightly faster, hoping you could make it to your dorm before any tears fell. You weren’t sad, just in pain. Harry tried to keep up with your pace. You could tell as the sound of his footsteps increased.

“Y/L/N! Hold on a minute.” You slowed down at the sound of your name. You didn’t respond, you just slowed your steps.

“Are you okay?” He sounded sincere, but you knew he would be this way with anyone who shared that experience with him.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Now, I kinda need to get to my dorm and start working on that potions essay. Goodnight Potter.” How you wanted to use his first name, but you weren’t close enough for that.

As you made your way into your dorm room, you wanted to hit yourself on the head for being so dismissive. You weren’t nervous about talking to Harry, you just didn’t want him to see your vulnerable side. The last thing you wanted was for the boy you were crushing on to pity you and think that you were weak. Alas, there is nothing you could do about it. That night you went to bed with a few tear stains, and a throbbing hand.

The next morning you woke up feeling a little defeated. The events of the night before still weighing in your mind. You got up and pulled yourself to breakfast with the promise of some delicious jam. You sat alone. You had friends, plenty of them in fact, but you just wanted to enjoy some solitude and be left to your drowsy thoughts. Throughout your time at breakfast, you felt eyes on you. Quite frankly, you wished it was your crush, but there was no way he would feel the same. It turns out you were right. Before you left the great hall to make your way to Charms class, you glanced around the hall and saw the eyes of those that bore into your skull. It was none other than Hermione Granger. Why she was watching you was unbeknownst to you, but you didn’t want to dwell on it.

Charms class was interesting and fun. It allowed you to focus on something other than your own thoughts. Flitwick was always a joy to be around, and he gave you a lot of house points as you often excelled. The only real competition you had was Hermione in this class, but she didn’t seem to mind that you were great in that class. As the class was ending, your brain started to go back to the events of the nights before. You felt a little guilty about being so dismissive, and your hand was still in pain. You decided that you should apologize to Harry at dinner.

A few hours later you walked into the hall with confidence, but as soon as you saw him with his friends at the Gryffindor table, you panicked and walked in the other direction. You sat at the table thinking about when to talk to him, and what to say. Eventually, your thoughts were interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

“Harry told me about your detention last night. Are you sure you’re alright?” It was Hermione.

“Yeah Granger. I’ll be fine. My hand still hurts, but it’ll heal eventually.” You offered her a small smile.

“Well, I just wanted to make sure. We both know how evil that toad is. Harry was also worried about you.” She gave a cheeky smile as if to tell me she knew all of my secrets.

“Actually Hermione,” this was your chance, “can you actually tell Harry I’m sorry for being so rude last night? I’ve been feeling pretty guilty about it, and I really don’t want him to think it was about him. I honestly was just overwhelmed.” You looked down, slightly ashamed that you couldn’t just say that to him yourself.

“You know, you could always tell him yourself.” She gave you a knowing look. “But, I guess I can do you this favor. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and don’t hesitate to come over to us next time.” She offered a playful wink and walked back to where Ron and Harry sat. Of course she noticed your feelings. Clearly, you have been a bit too obvious.

The next day came too fast. And it went almost as quickly. After dinner, you wandered the halls before curfew. You contemplated going to the astronomy tower, but you thought that was too obvious. Someone was most likely there, and it was most likely Malfoy himself. You decided to enjoy the fall weather and wandered the courtyard. Eventually you sit down by a tree and just close your eyes. The silence was rejuvenating. The chaos of classes and the continued noise in the common room often left little time for relaxation. This was the best way to decompress. Not too long later, a cough brought you to your senses.

“You know, your dorm may be a better place to sleep. You’re also less likely to get sick.” I knew exactly who it was. I sighed and kept my eyes close. Maybe if I don’t look at him, I can keep my composure.

“At least here, I don’t have to listen to the first and second years experimenting with Weasley products. Plus, the weather is perfect for a nap. I could sleep the rest of the year away, and I might as well if the pink toad is going to be around.” We sat in silence for a moment. Eventually, Harry spoke up.

“How’s your hand? You were bleeding a lot.” I let out an empty laugh in response.

“I’m heavy-handed I guess. How’s yours?” I heard a shifting noise next me, but I didn’t think twice about it.

“As well as to be expected. Listen, you had nothing to apologize for. I get it, she can be a lot. By the way, you call me Harry. There’s no reason for formalities.” At this point I could feel his eyes on me.

“Well, it’s not like we’re really friends,” I countered.

“You call Hermione by her first name, and I didn’t think you were friends either,” he pushed.

“I talk to her. More than I talk to you. If it’s any consolation I would probably refer to Ron as Weasley, well, maybe not if he was surrounded by the twins too.” I started to get up, but I felt his hand lightly grab my wrist.

“Then call this the start of a friendship. Now, you have no reason to not call me by my name.” I shook my head in response and began to walk away.

“Goodnight Potter,” I murmured to myself, but Harry heard it with a small smile on his face.

When Thursday came around, you felt great. Of course, your hand was still sore, but emotionally you felt good. You had managed to keep your emotions in check when talking to Harry last night, and you even managed to act a little more like yourself. On your way to the great hall for breakfast, you had a bit of pep in your step. You made your way to the table when you noticed that Harry was sitting over by where you were known to sit. Hermione and Ron were in their usual spots, but they were constantly looking over at Harry with smirks plastered on their faces.

“Should I even bother asking why you’re here Potter?”

“Well, I think I should sit with my new friend, don’t you?” He was too cocky for his own good.

You shook your head in response. Maybe he won’t end up developing the same type of emotions for you, but the least you can do is make a friend out of him. Your chats that morning were friendly. Your heart continued to beat a little harder in your chest, but you did the best you could to keep your emotions in check. Throughout the day, you would catch Harry around you. Sometimes he was in the same room, or you were just passing by each other more often, but he became more prominent in your daily activities.

You were spending more time with him, and his friends in the weeks following. Hermione made a good study partner, and Ron was actually pretty funny to be around, but you couldn’t get past these feelings in your chest whenever you looked at Harry or heard his voice. You were grateful to have a friendship with him at all, but the more you got to know about him, the harder you started to fall. At some point, you even considered a mutual interest, but that was soon crushed.

Cho Chang. A better match for Harry. You knew that he had some interest in her the year prior, but you thought that it was over. How wrong you were. It was a Hogsmeade day, and you looked forward to spending the day with some of your other friends. Fun was the best way to describe the first part of your trip. You made the necessary stops at Honeydukes and Zonko’s, and then you made your way to the Three Broomsticks for some Butterbeer. Things were going great. Your conversations were lively and it was nice to not have to push away your emotions. It wasn’t until you looked over your shoulder that your heart stopped. No, not in the good way, where everything around you stops too and everything suddenly gains meaning. No, this was the time that you hoped that it would never start again. The two of them sat, with butterbeers and laughs. Her hand on his arm, his smile bright. You turned back to your friends and painted a smile to your face. Just make it through the day.

When you finally got back to the dorm, you sat on your bed and looked at the wall. You weren’t thinking, just feeling. Should you go to dinner? That was the question that ate away at you for an hour. You opted that it would only make sense to go and ignore the voice in the back of your head that reminded you of all of your insecurities. So, you wandered through the halls until you reached the great hall. You took a deep breath and walked over to your friends from earlier. This earned three pairs of eyes to stay glued to your presence. The past few weeks, you spent your meals with the trio, but today, you couldn’t bring yourself to sit with them. Dinner was uneventful, thankfully, and you made your way back to the dorms where you would stay until Monday.

Your first class was History of Magic, and you chose to focus intently on the lesson. This continued in all of your classes, until you entered Defense Against the Dark Arts. Your head hurt from your thoughts trying to sting at the hippocampus of your brain. The pink toad’s ramblings eventually set you off. You got up without a word and walked out of the class. When she asked where you were going, you replied, “Anywhere else but here,” which she responded with, “Tonight, my office.” You figured detention was going to happen. It was inevitable, but you could care less at this point. You had been trying so hard to turn off your head and your emotions, that it didn’t matter what was going to happen.

That night, Umbridge held you for longer than normal. She must’ve been very angry with your sudden departure. When you left her office, your hand was dripping onto your uniform. You made your way to your common room, as silently as you could. That night, you could only think of and feel the pain from your hand.

The next morning, your hand was still bleeding. There was nothing you could do about it other than wrapping it up. At breakfast you sat alone, until he appeared in front of you.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s been wrong?” He sounded almost accusatory.

“I would rather eat my breakfast. Alone.” He flinched at your tone, but he didn’t move. Instead, he looked at your bandaged hand, where the blood seeped through the white cloth. He sighed knowing how bad the pain must be. You both ate in silence, until Cho Chang made her way to where you two were. You chose to block out her annoyingly nice voice. It was clear she was flirting, and Harry was clearly falling into her words. You got up and left as quickly as possible and went to charms.

Another week passed, except the trio had done everything they could to get you to go back to being friends with them. You studied with Hermione occasionally, but you cut your sessions short when she started questioning your behavior. One night, however, you took a break and started wandering the halls. Somehow, he found you. You sat, looking out the window in peace, when he caught your attention.

“You know, it’s unfair that you think you can just play with people’s emotions.” You were caught off guard by his statement. You stayed silent, however, not knowing how to respond.

“I thought we were friends Y/N. We had so much fun together, and I actually enjoyed spending time with you. You’re amazing to talk to, and you’re pretty funny too, which makes this all so confusing. Why? Why won’t you talk to me? To Ron? You barely talk with Hermione anymore. This is just selfish. If you didn’t want to be friends, you should’ve just said so. It would’ve saved us all the time.” He went to walk away after you didn't respond.

“Is that all I am to you? A waste of your time? You’re right. I was being selfish, but so were you.” You looked him in the eyes, and your heart started to tear itself into pieces. He was hurt, confused, and it appeared to you that he was disgusted with the sight of you. You walked away before any tears could fall.

What you didn’t know is that Hermione and Ron were watching this encounter from afar. To Hermione, it was clear what happened. Ron was unaware. That night in the common room, Hermione explained her thoughts to the boys. You liked Harry. That was clear to her before you became friends, and Harry had developed feelings for you along the way. But why did you back off? That was the question that needed some investigation. By the morning, Hermione figured out what happened. She tried to explain it to Harry, but he denied his feelings for the girl, but with some persuasion, he considered it as a possibility. He didn’t have time to really think about what she meant to him because he had quidditch practice.

You, on the other hand, were stuck in a place of guilt. You hurt him. You were selfish. If he wanted answers, then he should get them, but you owed it to yourself to get closure. You made a plan that required some confidence, and what you could only describe as pure stupidity.

The day consisted of heavy rainfall, but Angelina Johnson was not about to cancel quidditch practice. She had a reputation to live up to, and their first game of the season was coming up. This meant, though, that there was no one dumb enough to sit out in the rain and watch them practice. Almost no one. You had a mission, so you attended the Gryffindor practice, and stayed hidden in the quidditch stands. When practice was ending, you saw the players leaving the pitch, but you saw that Harry was falling behind. This is where you swallowed your dignity, and calmed all of your nerves.

“Harry James Potter!” You yelled as loud as you could. The rain continued to pour down as he found the source of his name.

“You want answers? Well here they are. I like you, hell I may even love you. You hear me? And, I know that you couldn’t possibly feel the same way about me, but I needed to say it. You said that I am selfish. Well, you’re right. I am, and now our friendship is ruined forever because I was jealous and stupid.” You took a deep breath. “If you weren’t the Harry Potter, maybe I would have some sort of a chance, but that’s not the world we live in. In this moment, this very moment, I am just a girl yelling at a boy in the rain because I feel so much for you. I’m sorry, but you deserve the truth.” With that, you left the boy speechless on the pitch. Rain continued to fall, but he didn’t move.

You ran. You ran so fast, that you weren’t even sure if it was real. You were soaked. From head to toe, and you had just made a fool out of yourself. You don’t know how, but you managed to get to your dorm without too many questions. The next morning, you opted out of breakfast at the great hall. Instead, you ate some of the sweets you had bought from Honeydukes. You avoided everyone like the plague. It wasn’t until the Weasley twins made their way to where you were hiding out, that you had any social interaction.

“Well, if it isn’t Ms. Y/L/N!”

“What do you know? Is this where you have been hiding?”

“What do you two want?” They must have heard your confession. They are on the team, and they can be pretty nosy when they want to be.

“No need to be so rude.”

“Yeah, we were just here to tell you that Harry is looking for you, and well-”

“He will find you, so you may want to do a better job of hiding.” Although they probably had negative intentions, you were grateful for their intel, so you got up, thanked them and moved elsewhere.

You were walking around when you found yourself in the courtyard. You remembered the night that you and Harry became friends. You sat down, tired of all of the running and wandering you had done all day.

“It only took me the whole day to find you.”

“And yet, you didn’t get the hint. Look Harry, I don’t want to talk t-”

“Then just listen. You said enough yesterday.” You lowered your head and thought of how to escape.

“Y/N, I have been cruel and clueless. Hermione told me that you liked me long before we became friends. I should’ve seen it, but I guess I’m pretty oblivious to some things. I thought I liked Cho, but I think a part of me wanted to console her after losing Cedric. I don’t think she even knows what she wants, but I know that I have missed you so much these past few weeks. And yesterday, when you told me how you felt, I couldn’t help but feel something. I asked Hermione about it and she is sure that I like you too, and you know what, it’s probably true. Not probably, it is true. I know I’m rambling, but Y/N Y/L/N I want to be with you!” He stopped and watched your expressions.

Your eyes looked up and found his eyes, desperate for a response. You slowly walked towards him and placed your hand on his cheek and pulled him into a shy kiss. You pulled away quickly with a slight blush, feeling embarrassed. It wasn’t until he pulled you back into him that you truly understood his words. You leaned your forehead into his and whispered, “What are you waiting for?”

#Harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter #ron weasly imagine #ron weasly x reader #ron weasley #draco malfoy imagine #hogwarts #quidditch #hermione granger

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oh-for-fic-sake · 5 years ago

Text

Brucie Baby~

You decide to top Bruce.

Masterlist

Warning: Adult situations +18, Smut, Oral, Teasing, Femdom switch, Name calling, Swearing, Anal, Dubcon, Spitting (once)

A/n: okay so... Yeah as you can probably tell by now I am more of a bottom, but I really really wanted to give this a shot not to sure how I feel about it but I do hope that people like it, its really smutty. enjoy xx

Taglist @125bluemachine125

Brucie Baby~

Bruce was down in the Bat cave working on his latest device upon taking Clark's advice he had taken you to the hospital for a heart check up. As it turned out you do have an abnormal heart rate, an arrhythmia tachycardia no murmur or damage yet and not dangerous thank god but you needed to have it monitored. So Bruce was making you a tiny ecg, much like the ones on sports watches but as you had refused to wear one he was making one in the form of a thin flat delicate chain mail looking bracelet with a small platinum plate with Sweets engraved underneath and a small onyx on the top the bracelet was a modern looking piece small and was versatile, it would go with anything and more importantly it would send the data straight to his phone and computer wirelessly, he even set it up to log in the bat computer just to make sure it was never lost. He may or may not have also put a teeny tiny tracker on it to but you wouldn't be privy to either just yet holding his breath as he clipped the last piece in place holding it to the inside of his wrist then outside checking the data on his phone as it lit up recording his pulse, with one last look he was satisfied he pulled it away tucking it into a velvet lined gift box bought specifically for the piece. Standing he stretched looking up at the time six am he would need to be ready to leave at eight. It was your six month anniversary and you were both going to spend the week at his own little slice of paradise, since what was now called 'the incident' things had changed slightly he was a little hesitant when being intimate, not that he didn’t love you or anything like that he would argue that you didn’t just own his heart, you was his heart but he was afraid of hurting you at first it was because of your injuries, then your it was your heart now he was just worried not wanting to accidentally hurt you, not only that but he was stressed, he kept on replaying that night over and over, the way he slammed the breaks but knew he wasn’t going to stop in time, all he could do was watch as you came closer and closer. He was so close to loosing you that he didn’t want to risk any harm whatsoever including in the bed room. Alfred said he was being silly that you wasn’t going anywhere and that as long as you had your safe word you was safe, he didn't even bother to ask where Alfred had learned about that he thought he was better off not knowing. It was also Alfred who had suggested the week away together noting you was both a bit stressed with the incident then the move. So that what was happening a trip to his small private island in the Maldives, Dick was coming to stay and fill in for him on patrol. He snapped the box shut leaving the cave, when he arrived to the bed room he stopped dead seeing you sitting up reading with a travel mug you turned to him smiling.

"Hey baby, how was it tonight?" he shrugged turning closing the door.

"Not much, stopped a kidnapping and an a few assaults small things really"

"Not to the victims they wont be. I heard the boys come up earlier you stayed down there a while." he smiled slipping off his tight tshirt strategically throwing it on the chair covering the small jewelry box as he dropped that as well.

"Yes working on something"You smiled curling your toes into the bed beneath you.

"Oh really a new gadget? Oh oh is it a lazer? Please tell me its a lazer I have always wanted to play with one like the ones in James bond!" He gave you a look

"No its not a lazer and if it was you definitely wouldn't get your hands on it" you pouted but not for long as your favorite part of the day began it was the best bit of living here full time getting your daily dose of Bruce's delicious body without fail, he smirked dropping his bottoms and pants in one swoop as he made his way across the room. You watched him quietly biting your lip as he snuck into the bed slowly crawling up beside you plucking your kindle from your hand snapping it shut dropping it on the side table then slid higher leaning over you taking your mug from you placing it beside the kindle. You sighed at him shivering a little as his cock brushed the top of your thigh wetting the shorts you wore to bed as it twitched to life against you.

"And just what do you think your doing Mr Wayne? you know we have a flight to catch in what two hours?" he hummed tugging on your arms leaning down to your neck whispering into your neck

"It's my Jet it wont leave without me" you sighed pulling his face up abruptly holding him firm before pressing your lips to his, he was a little shocked to say the least but soon gave into you as you plundered his mouth forcefully taking what you wanted from him twisting and toying with his tongue before making him shiver as you ran the tip of your tongue over the roof of his mouth then sucked harshly pulling on his tongue he moaned when you pulled back. Blinking a little confused as to where that aggression had come from but you felt just how much he had liked the change of pace as you gripped his now fully erect cock between your delicate hands tugging once twice and one final third time twisting as the went rubbing over his slit making him bite off a groan arching into your hand with eager hips.Perfect.

"Well I don't think it would be nice to keep the pilot waiting, so I'm off to have a shower and recheck my bag and you should to, I'd say sleep but you don't have time" you said he moaned trying to grab you as you slipped out of the bed licking your lips, oh yes this trip would be incredible. You see you had fully healed from the night you discovered Bruce's secret and had been forced to the hospital about your heart and although it wasn't anything to worry about yet. Bruce had been very delicate with you. Not that you haven't enjoyed the sex but it wasn't the same, so you was stuck not sure what to do,you had already asked him but he insisted you wait a few more weeks to be sure. You wanted to do something get him so riled up that he would forget everything that has happened and ravage you once and for all. You smiled to yourself you had gone to Alfred for suggestions Alfred about what you should do to help. Alfred being the good sport he was smirked telling you to leave it with him already having a plan in mind, the next day a note had been slipped under your morning coffee with a single web address. You laughed giddy when you looked and saw a plethora of adult toys all dedicated to one kink Femdom safe to say most of the money you saved since living at the manor had brought you a whole arsenal of toys that was already at the house waiting as Alfred had arranged for it to be shipped directly there. You stopped just before walking through the door to the bathroom turning back to Bruce as he laid sprawled out on his back hand creeping to his cock that tented the blankets

"Oh and Bruce? leave that alone its mine if you don't you'll be sorry" you smirked at the shocked look on his face having to enter the bathroom quickly before you lost your composure and started laughing at the confused man. He through his head back cock twitching, you were up to something and he didn't know what but what he did know is he couldn't fucking wait. Closing his eyes he willed his raging boner to relax a little but he could still feel the tingles left by your hands. Shit. He heaved a sigh once he heard the shower, quickly getting up and hiding the bracelet in his packed bag stuffing the small box in his side pocket before beginning to get ready, he didn't need sleep yet he could wait until the flight and would probably nap by the sea once at the island. He sighed when racing past you when you stepped out of the shower turning it cold to help settle his problem you smirked nodding at him a little.

Thirty seven hours later you found yourselves stepping off of the plane the first thing you noticed was it was hot....Fucking hot you was happy you only had a thin dress on and the second was the sight that greeted you took your breath away you stood looking at what had to be a photo because this could not be real Bruce came up behind you yawning and stretching as he had just woken up, he looked well rested for the first time in weeks. He walked behind you kissing the back of your neck hugging you close.

"You like it?

""It-Bruce this is incredible I've never seen anything like this not in real life" you was awe struck by the pure white sand and crystal clear water, in front of you was a small thatched building that looked like it was for maintenance, beyond that a lush patch of brightly colored plants you could hear parrots and various other wild life in the trees and peaking thought you could see the beach. A long pier extending out with a large house at the end that you'd seen on the brochures from here you could see the slide that wrapped around it from the roof into the sea. you smiled turning to him excitedly

"Oh my god a slide? does it have one of those nets? you know the one that hangs over the water that you can lay on?" you asked jumping up a little he laughed nodding.

"Yes and the slide was for the boys when they were younger but I'm sure you will make use of it, there is an infinity pool at the back to, Jason got freaked out by the fish when he was little so I had it put in for him." you giggled as you saw someone you didn't recognize pick up your bags piling them into a small jeep Bruce walked you over to it holding you around the waist.

"Jason really? was he frightened of them?"

"No I wouldn't say frightened, he just didn't like the idea of them touching him, he loved watching them hence the pool is glass he would dive holding the top with his goggles and snorkel I was even considering getting some coral around it to encourage more but the more fish would have drawn sharks and I decided against it not with the boys." you snapped your head to him as you sat side by side in the Jeep as it started moving down the dirt road towards the house.

"Sharks? do they come close?" he patted your thigh at the cute expression

"Don't worry most are babies...Tho there was that hammer head that swam straight into the glass pool that one time, and the reef shark of 08 he hung about for a few days swimming below the house I wouldn't let the boys out it was quiet big, turns out they were fucking feeding it! Well Dick was, wanted to tame it and brag to everyone that he had a pet shark." you laughed you could imagine them sneaking out throwing food at the dangerous creature.

"Was that when Jason asked for the pool by any chance?" you said slyly as the jeep rounded the corner pulling out of the trees to the beach parking by the huge pier. You glanced along the beach noticing a large sunken area with a curved stone wall with wooden bench wrapped around it and huge sunken firepit full of smooth glittering stones. You jumped out of the car following Bruce down the the pier both taking your suitcases and rolling them behind you as you walked hand in hand down the long wooden structure hearing the jeep drive off back towards the airfield.

"Never though about it but yes it was it must, have scared him. I only found out they was feeding the damn thing when I caught Dick trying to get in the water with it,the silly little sod was adamant that he had 'tamed the beast' I only just dragged him out of the water in time. I can tell you he didn't try that again after the hiding he got." you chuckled but felt sorry for the boy. You finally arrived at the sleek modern villa upon entering you sighed in relief as the aircon was in full swing cooling the house to a comfortable tempature, it was one story the whole back of the building was huge panes of glass giving an uninterrupted view of the sea beyond it was open planned with the master bedroom on the far left of the house and two rooms for the boys on the far right in the middle was an open plan light and airy kitchen with center island and dining table in front and large living room with sunken u shaped sofa facing a fireplace with tv above, out side you could see the pool and large hammock net beside it to the left was a set of stairs integrated into the side of the house you assumed it was for the slide. It was beautiful he directed you through to the bed room placing your bags down you gasped as the view was stunning you almost felt like you was just skimming the clear water.

"Bruce this is-its beautiful, I've never seen anything like this" he smiled approaching you slowly placing his hands on your shoulders pulling you back against him.

"Good I’m glad you like it, I'm going to have a quick shower and change I will be right back" you nodded turning giving him a deep kiss before letting him go. Once he left through the door you moved fast finding your order that Alfred said was in here and ripping it open finding your toys, you guessed that you had around ten minuets which was enough you raced to the bed with the box quickly unwrapping what you assumed was the comfort hand cuffs, basically normal click hand cuffs with a soft lining they had a quick release to you noted you gave them the once over the chain between them was think so hopefully they would contain him, not wasting time you quickly threaded them threw the bars of the head bored looping it around twice and stuffed it down beside the mattress out of sight then repeated with two separate cuffs on either side of the base board. You quickly made your way back to the box pulling out your other goodies quickly fiddling with them figuring out how each thing worked and moved crawling under the bed finding a plug socket and plugged in the rechargeable wand and plug vibrator you sighed standing back up doing another round of the room checking everything was hidden. Smiling you fist pumped the air and pulled out the final thing you had got the the cherry on the smutty cake as it were. It looked a little tight but you could make do quickly stuffing it back in the box and fished out the rest from your suitcase then kicked it across the room out of the way. You panicked slightly trying to remember everything you had seen in the videos. You had planned this for just over a week using the time he was away at night to watch ridiculous amounts of femdom porn wanting to get this spot on. You knew he would like this just from the way he got turned on when you became as he called it 'Mama bear' you took a deep breath you could do this. You'd pay for it later .but you could do this. You kicked off your shoes and dress lying on the bed in only your panties you had forsaken your bra on the flight you turned facing away from the bathroom door staring out to the sea, it calmed you hearing the waves in the distance and the soft laps of water on the columns holding the house up just below the floor you nearly drifted off to sleep. Suddenly the bathroom door opened and Bruce came waltzing in clad in only a towel."All ready and waiting for me love? I thought we could go relax in the Jacuzzi for a bit but if you insist, after all I do owe you for yesterday" he said quickly throwing the towel away and crawling on the bed you rolled over to meet him half way kissing him lightly at first before moving slowly sitting up deepening the kiss you moaned as he bit your lip sucking it then released opening your mouth you welcomed him letting him explore your mouth slowly before you latched on to his tongue sucking it quickly and biting it lightly rolling over to lounge across him he smirked cupping your ass as you moved straddling him you looked down noticing he was already half hard.smirking you shuffled up sitting on his cock trapping it between your covered pussy and his own abdomen a leaning over kissing him again slowly clasping his hands maneuvering them up past his head. Distracting him by running kisses across his jaw suckling and biting harshly making him moan the he returned the favor sucking a dark mark on your neck. Yes almost there. You guided his hands further across the pillows and grinded on him making sure to keep him occupied then CLICK! he flinched jerking his arms pulling his face away from you. You giggled at the shocked look on his face

"ERR Babe wh-what are you doing there hun?" he asked there was a tremor to his voice. you grinned at him leaning down to him again kissing his chest.

"I want to play Brucie baby~ You see you've been gentle and I just don't know what I have to do to get you to rough me up a bit. First I thought if I was a good girl you'd reward me, fuck me stupid again like you did before. I know you was worried that you'd hurt me again but sometimes a bit of pain is good. Soooo I thought that I'd show you." you winked at him crawling backwards down the length of his body leaving soft kisses. He stared mouth open speechless as you slid off of the bed, you could see it in the way his pupils were blown, eyes clouded with lust he was enjoying himself and the slight bobbing of his semi erect cock was a very good indicator. He shook his head laughing a little and smirked.

"Oh you think you can top me baby girl because you have a set of handcuffs? Fine I will play along give me your best shot"

"Oh baby, you are so going to regret that" you smiled bending down licking your lips as you quickly cuffed each of his ankles spreading him open you tutted and walked across the room to the box pulling out a two little elastic rings towards him,he visibly flinched and gulped a little as you stalked to the bed holding the toys.

"Hey wh-where did you get that? How do you even know what that is? my sweet lovely little girlfreind, you know I love you right babe?" you giggled sitting on the bed as he tested his cuffs trying to shift away from you as you ran the tip of a finger up and down his lower abdomen.

"Of course I know you love me I love you to and I'm pretty sure this is on your list isn't it? the big bad bat of Gotham who is always in control day and night wants to take the back seat once in a while? to be completely at my mercy for once?" he nodded a little swallowing dryly still trying to get his head around the fact that you, tiny innocent y/n had cuffed him to the bed and was stroking his stomach getting him ready for a fucking cock ring. You giggled placing your hand on the crown of his cock rubbing and teasing him with the pads of your fingers making his hiss arching leaning down licking at him then slowly dragged the tips of your nails up and over his whole length until finally he rose fully erect and ready, you made quick work of placing the cock ring over him rolling it down the pulled both balls through it gently moving him through the tight loop letting go he moaned as it started squeezing him tight then you moved quick placing the second one at his base trapping his balls between the two elastics you parted with a kiss and nip to them making him arch off the bed groaning loud panting heavy, he hissed as they constricted his heated flesh keeping him pointing directly up. You then tapped the head lightly sucking on it once then pulled away."Now I will be right back just going to freshen up." you said walking of to the side lifting your new outfit ignoring his protests listening as he tugged at the bonds swearing as he realized he might not be able to break away. He was fucked utterly fucked but oh boy was he going to enjoy it, this was his darkest deepest fantasy that no woman had ever even attempted, in his playboy years he had always been treated like a sugar daddy, they expected him to top each time ,they were desperate just wanting him to dominate them, control them and then fuck them silly. It was a secret desire that he was almost ashamed of, absolutely no one new not even Alfred who knew everything about him. He absolutely loved topping it was his thing but every now and then he wants to be topped, the idea of you using him, controlling him.

"UGH fuuuck" he cried out as the thought made his cock harden bouncing a little as he was held high moaning and twitching as he tried to focus on his breathing instead of the tight delicious throbbing of his cock. Meanwhile you entered the bathroom putting on your new outfit, well you use the term outfit loosely it was one of those cute goth girl type harnesses that looped in v's across your breasts wrapping up around your neck in a choker and matching thong you paired it with Bruce’s favorite stocking and garter set thick band of lace wrapped around your waist attached to matching lace trimmed stockings and killer heels- he liked you in heels- then ruffled your hair applying you expensive red long wear lipstick, this particular one needs a special lipstick remover and had also been a new purchase just for this. You grabbed the last item a fierce looking black riding crop. oh yes this was worth epilating for. You felt so ready for this your insides aching for him if everything went to plan you’d be thoroughly fucked out by the end of the day then took a deep breath pushing aside your own arousal. Not yet today was for Bruce. Hearing the rattle of the cuffs a and a deep frustrated moan. You opened the door strutting to wards the bed watching him whither trying to tug himself free, he hadn't noticed you yet you licked your lips in anticipation. Excellent. you quickly brought the crop down on the v above his angry looking cock making him hiss and stop mouth agape as he saw you.

"Fuck me" he said drinking in your form you smirked sitting on the bed running the tip of the crop up his neck pressing on his jaw to close it humming at him.

"Not yet baby we've only just started, oh honey that looks uncomfortable~" you said tapping his red swollen cock with the crop quickly he grunted, couldn't take his eyes off of you as you got up and walked around the bed sliding beneath it you came back up resting your head on your elbow on the bed level with his face

."I almost feel bad about what I'm going to do you you. But this is a lesson you need isn't it love?" you watched his eyes widen as you lifted your hand holding a Pink wand vibrator. His breath hitched yep he was definitely completely and utterly fucked with capital F. He moaned

"No nono Sweets come on! that's not fair!" You smirked at him as he growled tugging on the cuffs again.

"OH but it is Brucie it is fair, pay back is a bitch and so am I" You picked up the crop striking him across the stomach with it leaving red strips across him then once lightly on the fat head of his cock as you moved taking your place between his spread thighs. Stroking him lightly barely touching him swirling your fingers around him making him swear at your cool hands.

"Today my love you are not Bruce Wayne, you are not the bat or even the boss. No today you are a little subby, little Brucie baby and lastly but definitely not least you are my toy!" You smiled as he grunted loud trying to buck, tho you wasn't sure if it was away or towards your hand.

"Im counting on you using my safe word if things get to much for you ,you remember what it is?" You asked him still stroking him slowly pressing your fingers every so often as you twisted making sure to rub the sensitive underside of his head a little making him hiss and groan

"Brownies" you smiled leaning down ghosting your breath on him. Letting one hand slip to the apex of your own thighs shuddering as you made contact with your engorged clit rubbing lightly coaxing small gasps and moans.

"Good boy, such a good boy" before you licked at his slit he groaned thrusting up trying to penetrate your mouth. You pulled back scraping him with your teeth collecting some precum along the way making a point of sticking out your tongue to him showing him his own seed before swallowing it licking your lips tutting you moved your hand clenching your hand around him reprimanding him.

"OH baby you want my mouth? you'll have to behave then and I might let you have it" he swore when you placed the wand sneakily beneath both rings pressing it tightly against the flesh below his balls flicking it on.

"OH FUUUCK shitshit thats-Ahh!" he grunted torn between trying to press down and pull away as the vibrations traveled from his root to tip making the elastics tremble against one another teasing his trapped cock, you smiled wickedly before flicking it up not one but two levels enjoying the cry that ripped from deep in his chest, it was an unexpected pleasure watching as his whole upper body tensed curling his muscles bulging trying to free himself he panted a few deep breaths then held his breath grunting before panting quickly again whining trying to rut into it. Quickly you pulled it away before he could cum giggling as he through himself back on the bed panting already covered in sweat you didn’t give him long to recover before pressing it hard to the swollen balls peaking taught from between the rings. The reaction was immediate this time his whole body ceasing, locking and trying to squirm away all at once. Slowly you moved it up to his weeping head rolling it around in delicate circles he grunted throwing his head back into the pillows turning his head to his bicep biting down trying to stifle his moans but couldn't hold back for lone as you tortured him with slow deliberate strokes.

"OH FUCK PLEASE! Pleaseplease baby fuck yes I'm so close! NO! NONONO" Just as he started rocking moaning higher and more desperate you pulled away pouting at him you wriggled on your knees rubbing your thighs together watching him fall apart was the most arousing thing you’d ever seen, unable to take it anymore as you soaked your own thighs you spoke.

"You know your right its not fair" you quickly straddled him placing the wand beneath your swollen folds then pressed down rubbing on it. You moaned as Bruce thrashed beneath you trying to touch .So close yet so far. You as you rocked on the toy crying out as the vibrations made your swollen clit ache and swell with need but at the same soothed you as your pussy clenched leaking on the toy panting softly.

"OH! that's it fuck yesyesyes" you leaned forward hands on his chest looking straight in his eyes mouth open as you tensed quivering feeling his muscles tense the wand low enough on his abdomen to tease the muscles of his pelvis tensing forcing his cock to throb and move before he knew what was happening he was arching shouting his pleasure as he came for the first time bucking despite the cock ring still holding him at a full attention. You laughed at him as you carried on thrusting wildly on him leaning down more to kiss at his open mouth. He met you in a ferocious battle of tongues desperate for any contact he could get panting and shivering. You stopped yourself short gasping sliding off of him taking the toy with you. You would wait.

"Oh baby look at all this mess?" You said flicking off the wand you wouldn't need it now. He panted hissing through his teeth as you began to crawl over him sucking him sharply making him yelp out.

"FUUUCK NONONO BABY DONT IT'S TO MUCH-AHH UGH UGH NO PLEEEAASSEE!" You chuckled as he fought desperate to get away and stop you, ignoring him you pushed onto him swallowing him down until, your nose was flush against him moaning loud onto him he cried out higher then you had ever heard him then pulled back slowly bobbing onto him he panted cried and swore as you continued using your lips as you ran along his length popping off of him he went lax but only for a second choosing to torture his sensitive cock with your hand two fingers at first squeezing him keeping your pumping thumb on the vein underneath it he shook, thighs tensing and quivering his upper body tense a flush of deep red almost purple creeping down his body.

"BITCH! OH JESUS!Your a fucking bitch you OOOHHH NOO PLEASE! WAIT! Im gonna fuck-shit FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK! fuck you so hard you'll be bed bound for days!" You laughed

"Im counting on it! Aww baby is it sore? Goood I want it to HUUUURT!" Then fisted him with both hands pumping as fast as you could go your pussy clenched as you drove him beyond pain to the pleasure beyond it he cried throwing his head back cumming a second then third time in what seemed under a minute you stopped then puling away.

"Oh wow that was hot look at all this baby, Is it all for me? So good but whats this my love? Your still hard that must mean you want more musn’t it?" You said scooping up his cum before rubbing it over his torso he groaned pitifully at you shaking his head still trying to catch his breath you crawled up him quickly sliding your thong to the side impaling yourself on him squealing as his hard cock stretched you burning you from the inside out he tensed and shuddered beneath you looking up with tears in his eyes.

"FUUUUUUUUCK no babe I cant! NONONONONOOOO!" You just licked your lips bouncing on him rotating your hips grinding your clit on him then changed direction forcing him to hit that spot making your eyes roll back you placed your hands either side of his head grinding on him panting breathy moans in his ear.

"Fuck are you gonna cum again Brucie? Come on love do it for me" you moaned loud and clenched around him tight making him whimper unable to speak he just nodded

"Good, such a good boy for me now I want you to cum! To fill me like never before you can just imagine it cant you love fucking me full, so I drip with you for days oh YES! FUCK UGH BABY PLEASE AAHHH!" you tucked your head in the crook of his neck rocking desperately against him as the change in angle brushed both your g spot and cervix you moaned tensing closing your eyes as you tummy quivered and you felt the heat move lower finally reaching your pussy you grunted as you came around his cock twitching as your walls fought to milk him he opened his mouth in a silent scream cumming for the forth time jerking into you tight heat as you came undone over him. You panted laying on him catching your breath as you came down from your high, giggling rolling off of him as he chuckled lightly closing his eyes you thought that was enough for today he looked utterly exhausted you lay beside him kissing his heaving chest patting his stomach

"I love you Bruce" he leaned down kissing your head

"I love you to Sweets, can you uncuff me now think we both need to relax in the Jacuzzi with some wine now" you hummed in response moving to the bottom of the bed releasing his legs then using the quick release on the hand cuffs. With precise movements you was maneuvered far to quickly for your liking being thrown over his shoulder he growled ripping off the cock rings hissing.

"Wha? Bruce how are you?" You was interrupted with a harsh spank on your pussy whining you moved your hands trying to cover yourself as you was dumped in the sunken hot tub out on the deck, grabbed again from behind as you surfaced the shaking your hair out blindly grabbing for anything using your confusion he pulled harshly at the thong snapping it clean off throwing it on the deck. He held both arms behind you pressing you to kneel on one of the hot tub seats knees spread and bending you forward slightly having your ass hang just over the bottom of the seat ,gulping as a very pissed of Bruce towered over you from behind gripping your throat restricting your air flow holding you still leaning his chest into you.

"B-Brucie?" He dug his fingers in to your neck before growling into your ear"Shut the fuck up woman! You really thought I'd let you get away with that?" He moved shuffling his still hard cock to your sopping entrance that was still twitching tapping it on your clit, sliding up and down between your lips, your walls spasmed and quivered, he was definitely going to make you pay and you couldn't wait.

"OH GOd! plEASE FUCK MEE! please Bruce I want your cum! PLEASE fill me again I want it!"

"You think your getting this cock Up your greedy cunt after that? Oh baby no, I'm gonna fuck your ass good and proper, your going to feel me for days, your pussy might not be worthy of my cock right now but I can do this" you screeched as he started the jets realizing why he held you here as a powerful jet sent a constant stream of water up to your pussy massaging your poor clit you curled into yourself letting out a long drawn out groan pressing into him he chuckled as you cried out loud, it was incredible and painful all in one as the water massaged your swollen flesh you rocked and withered against it

"OH OH FUCK BRUCE PLEASE PLEASEPLEASE IM SORRY!" He smiled licking at your neck making sure to stand firm holding you still as you moaned and panted before he used on hand to line himself up with your tight pucker his blunt head pressing hard in warning your eyes widened tilting back mouth open in one continuous cry with out wasting time he lurched forward past the tight ring of muscle grunting as the tight ring nearly chocked his cock he rocked slowly feeding you inch after inch.

"Oh baby girl your so tight shit yes fuck! You want to be fucked full? Well baby girl there was no need for all of this You could have asked." You whimpered moaning as he drove in deeper filling you to the hilt you grunted in pain as he pressed his balls to your cheeks, as painful as it was the jets directed to your clit abusing it eased you overall experience you panted gasping and whining as he fucked you harshly not giving much care to you as he pulled and pushed his way up into you, and you love every second of it moaning loud as the water lapped at you you screamed trying to wriggle away from him as your body trembled your walls clenched so tight they almost cramped in on themselves as you was left empty as you came looking up at him tears rolling down your face as he carried on fucking into your sore ass, not letting you escape the jet below you moving down to spit into your open mouth. The filthy gesture made you clench again around nothing in the middle of your orgasm you whined frustrated and over sensitive panting harshly as he pulled out of you tipping you further forward bending you completely over the side you stared into the clear ocean below as he moved forward plowing into your swollen abused pussy

"AH SHIT BRUCE PLEASE I CANT" he growled at you

"You can and you fucking WILL! UGH! SHIT! yesyesyes take it babe ah ah ah!TAKE IT BABE COME ON YOU WANTED THIS NOW YOU'VE GOT IT" you shivered clenching your hands and curling your toes as he battered your cervix pressing down as he went to stroke your sensitive soft spot, still trembling you shouted out as your clit throbbed an your pussy hummed to life as he took you above and beyond anything you’d felt with him before, one hand was gripping your ass as he thrusted forward with no mercy legs shaking as the water jet used to torment you now pulsed over his balls as he pounded into you. You wailed as he moved his hand to your clit pinching and tugging on it forcing you to orgasm again this time his hips stuttered and with one last pound forward he lifted your knees off of the seat completely forcing you to straighten your legs holding his hands on the edge of the deck either side of you holding trapping you pushing stretching your cervix forcing the tip of his cock inside before he came you screeched loud as he did feeling his hot cum spurt into your fluttering womb he held you still as you panted in shock of what just happened still feeling him twitching inside of you.

"Thats it THATS IT!! FUCK FUCK GOOD GIRL! AH AH yesyesyes shit shit! You feel that? UGH! Thats what you get! My.Fat.Cock deep inside of you, marking you as mine! Because that what you are my little slut! Mine to fuck and fill as I see fit, you wanted to be full now you are and if you let so much as one drop escape I will drag you to the bed and start all over again and again until you learn to keep my cum inside of you where it belongs!" He ground himself against your stinging clit laughing as you whined

"Bruuuuce I'm sore" he kissed your back

"Good I wanted it to hurt" he threw your own words back at you nipping your ear load before pulling out you hissed when he twisted to sit in the water with you on his lap cradling you to his chest kissing you.

"I love you babe , that was the best sex we have had in a long time isn't it?" You nodded cupping his jaw kissing it.

"Yeah... sorry if I was to much I kind of got into it... more than I thought I would actually" its true you was surprised at how much it had turned you on to have him to the point of tears. He smiled rubbing your back his other hand moving to change the jets to a low hum massaging your tired muscles.

“Nonsense you were perfect, it was incredible more than i could have ever hoped for, but where did you get the stuff? And where the fuck did you learn about all this femdom stuff?" You blushed twiddling his light dusting of chest hair smileing coyly at him.

"Well Alfred slipped me a note with a web address on it and that was all she wrote." You kissed him as his face dropped

"WHAT? Alfred as in Alfred Alfred? The man who raised me Alfred? Our Alfred?" You giggled nodding he sighed

"Holy shit" you sat up tugging your new harness off wincing as you saw the red marks it left where your large breasts were pressing on it he looked down hissing on your behalf running a finger across it.

"And I watched a shit load of femdom porn when you was out patrolling, I planned this for over a week ... nearly two I just wanted us to go back to the way we used to have sex, wanted to prove to you that I'm fine now, you don't have to worry about hurting me, I promise I will stop you if its too much the only way I could think of was to top you, so you knew what it was like you know?" He nodded as you leaned against him resting your head on his chest.

"I definitely understand, I'm sorry I just got so caught up in wanting to make sure you was completely healed, I was considering asking superman to come and double check that your ribs were fine, that's when Alfred pulled me aside telling me I was being stupid and suggested this trip." You scoffed then froze "Wait he suggested this trip? He told me it was you? And he-THAT LITTLE SHIT! Bruce he has had us both over!" You growled then pouted

"Come again?" You snorted at him

"Not yet love still tender" he bellowed a laugh at that

"Any way what I mean is he suggested the trip gave me the website link and arranged for the stuff to be hear for our arrival.... he set us up, and to be honest I’m greatful but damn your butlers pretty cunning... I suppose its true the butler really did do it." Bruce belly laughed

"Hey I've got something for you" he said before standing taking you with him you giggled as he carried you to the bed room placing you on the bed softly leaving with a kiss kneeling routing around in his case pulling out his gift.

"Here I made this for you, I know I shouldn't worry but I do" you took the box tentatively opening it seeing a beautiful silver chainmail bracelet with small plate and strategically placed onyx. You gasped slowly pulling it out.

"Bruce? What I don’t know what to say its beautiful" he sat beside you placing it on your wrist smiling as it fit perfect, not that he doubted the fit he may have measured your wrist when you was sleeping.

"Its a heart monitor and sends the data to my phone computer and even the bat computer, so I wont worry as much, the hospital said to monitor it but going to the hospital for and ecg every three months wasn't good enough for me so I made this, I want you to wear it as much as possible, its water proof so you can swim and shower with it.Happy six month anniversary" You leant forward kissing him deeply and pulled away admiring your new bracelet.

"Thank you I feel bad I didn't get you anything" he bellowed a laugh

"Babe you gave me the best orgasm of my life and I got to fuck your ass that's plenty trust me, tho if your really that upset I wouldn't say no if you bent over again for me" you squeaked blushing slapping his chest

"Oh? Whats all this then? How can you go from being a hot sexy mistress to a innocent little baby doll in what ten minutes?"you pouted pushing on him whining embarrassed. Then you heard a small beep below the bed you froze. You had forgotten about that. Bruce looked at you curiously then went under the bed sighing as he came up holding the specially designed prostate massager you chuckled nervously as he cock an eyebrow at you.

"Were you gonna try and stick this up my ass?" You shrugged

"Hehe well I err funny thing-sort of? maybe.....The guys on the videos liked it..... So I kind of you know thought I'd try it." You explained rubbing the back of your neck as he just stared.

"Haha no. Absolutly not, you are not sticking anything up my ass babe." He said placeing it beside the bed. You pouted muttering under your breath

"Like you'll have a choice when I do." He snapped his gaze at you.

"What was that? You want it up yours? well why didn't you say babe" your eyes bugged out as he stepped towards you grinning mischievously, you screamed giggling getting off the bed running out into the deck as he chased you diving at you plunging you both into the pool. You giggled as he held you against him in the water holding your ass as you wrapped your legs around him kissing one another.

"I love you so much you know I'd do anything for you right?" he asked staring straight into your eyes you nodded

"I love you to Bruce honestly couldn't imagine ever being with out you,I truly believe your my soulmate" he smiled pressing his forehead to yours closing your eyes you stayed there with him just enjoying being held. Then Bruce had to ruin the sweet moment.

"Soo hammock sex yes or no?" You deadpanned pulling away

"Let me guess its on your list?" He shook his head

"Nope not that list... I have a different list for holidays" you groaned shaking your head at him swimming to the edge on the pool watching the colorful fish swim just beyond the glass.

"Tomorrow? Lets just relax for today" he swam up beside you crossing his arms on the rim of the glass.

"Fine by me" you both stayed there enjoying the peaceful surroundings. You was content thing were definitely back to normal. you snuck another kiss pulling yourself up to the glass beside him as he held you by the waist leaning on him looking at your new bracelet twinkly in the sun.

#bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #batmom imagines #batman x y/n #dc x reader #dc x you #dc x y/n

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scenes-in-between · 4 years ago

Text

Trust No 1 (Part Four)

For the hundredth time in the last 18 hours, Gibson wonders why he agreed to this.

The train is busy and loud in a way he hasn’t had to deal with for a long time. Living for months crammed in a tiny trailer with Mulder’s noisy mind was nothing compared to this. Dozens of people in close proximity, only a handful of them asleep, all drowning each other out and making it nearly impossible to listen for threats. He finds himself trembling with the effort.

Jesus, poor kid, Mulder practically screams beside him.

“I’m fine,” he says through clenched teeth. “Just got used to the quiet.”

“Only a few more hours,” Mulder murmurs aloud, and Gibson nods.

A picture flares to life in Mulder’s mind, something Gibson has seen there before but Mulder’s never spoken about. Gibson doesn’t know if he’s remembering a nightmare or something that actually happened; it feels like the latter, but that’s impossible.

Mulder catches Gibson frowning at him and shrugs, sighing. “Sorry. I know it’s not the same, and I’m not suggesting I know exactly what you’re going through. I just can’t help remembering how it felt.”

“How what felt?”

Now Mulder’s the one to frown, confused. “You don’t know? I mean… You couldn’t see that memory just now?”

“People usually remember things in a kind of shorthand. There’s not always context. This memory of yours… I’ve seen it before, but I don’t know what it means or if it’s even real.”

“What did you see?”

“You’re in a hospital, I think. And you can hear people like I can. But it’s too much. It hurts, and you can’t… you’re not…”

“Yeah,” Mulder says quietly. “Yeah, that was real.”

“But how?”

There was an artifact, Mulder thinks. A piece of a ship, a spacecraft. I don’t know how or why it affected me like that, but it did. I could hear thoughts, but not like you do, not really. My mind couldn’t handle the input. It burned me up, shut me down. I almost died. Only reason I didn’t is that someone cut open my head and took whatever it was out of me.

Gibson can see images again as Mulder remembers waking up in that room, remembers Scully rescuing him. Mulder’s thoughts slide away from the narrative of the memory and latch on to Scully, and how he can’t wait to see her, and William, and there is this swell of affection that is unlike anything Gibson ever felt from his own parents. It makes him a little sad, even though he’s long since come to terms with the fact that his parents were always more afraid of him than anything else.

“They just cut it out of you?” Gibson prompts, hoping to steer Mulder back on course.

Mulder blinks. “Uh, yeah. I mean, I assume so. I used to have, well it was never a big scar, but…” He brushes his fingers over his forehead, almost like it’s a reflex. “Then later, after I came back from the dead, everything just… healed. Way faster and way more completely than should have even been possible. Can’t even feel the scar at all anymore. But yeah, that’s where they cut me open, and then when I woke up afterward, that was that. Only thoughts in my head were my own.”

Gibson wonders what it would be like to never hear anyone else’s thoughts, ever. The only way that ever truly happens for him is if he’s physically isolated, though when he’s not so out of practice, he can choose to turn the volume down by picking one thing or person to focus on. He realizes that as Mulder’s been talking (both in his head and out loud), that’s exactly what has happened; the rest of the mental chatter in the train car has faded into the background, nothing more than a dull murmur at the edge of his mind. He’s grateful for the respite, but it also means he might miss something, if there’s someone or something on this train that wants to hurt them. He really should go back to listening.

But also he’s just so, so tired.

“How much longer until the next station?” he asks, wondering if maybe, since he hasn’t picked up on the presence of any threats on the journey so far, he can afford to let his guard down a little, at least until they stop again and more new people get on board.

Mulder shifts and digs into his pocket for the brochure they picked up at the station the last time they transferred, which has a timetable with all the stops on this rail line. “Hmm, forty-five minutes, give or take? Why?”

“Can you do me a favor and just think about something really boring for a little while? Like, I don’t know, FBI protocols or something?”

Mulder chuckles. “Can’t say I’ve ever really been much of an expert on those. But sure. You gonna try to nap?”

Gibson doubts actually falling asleep is possible, but he nods anyway. Even if he can just rest for a while, that will be good. Just in case, though…

“Make sure I’m awake when we get to the next station, okay? So I can listen to the new people getting on. Just in case.”

Mulder nods, and a jumble of emotion spills out of him: pity, guilt, gratitude, regret, and something else Gibson can’t immediately identify. There’s this sense of he’s way too young to have to have to carry all this and I should be the one protecting him, which makes Gibson want to roll his eyes. Mulder still seems to think of him as the 12 year-old kid he was when they met, but he’s 16 now, and he’s been living on his own for a good long while. He can more than take care of himself. But there it is again, that flash of something else, and then it’s like Mulder makes the conscious decision to stop and focus on that one feeling because it completely takes over. It’s warm and something like affection but not quite, and Gibson puzzles over it some more before realizing, finally, that it’s pride.

Mulder is proud of him.

It’s not something Gibson has felt directed toward him many times in his life, and it makes him squirm a little bit. But it’s also nice.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, and Mulder nods again.

“You got it, kid.”

All right, let��s see. Now, unfortunately for me, I’ve had to sit through more than a few training seminars on the application of Chapter 119 of Title 18 of the US Penal Code. Fortunately for you, this is just about the most boring subject on the face of the Earth, and as I happen to be cursed with an eidetic memory, I can recite the stupid thing chapter and verse. Consider this your first class ticket on an express train to Snoozeville.

Gibson can’t help but smile a little as he leans back in his seat and closes his eyes.

Chapter 119: Wire and Electronic Communications Interception and Interception of Oral Communications. Section 2510: Definitions. As used in this chapter-- (1) “wire communication” means any aural transfer made in whole or in part through the use of facilities for the transmission of communications by the aid of wire, cable, or other like connection between the point of origin and the point of reception…

The gentle rhythm of Mulder’s bland recitation melds perfectly with the steady rocking and the click-clack of the train, and in spite of his apprehensions, Gibson is asleep in minutes.

***

From the relative comfort of his office, the Shadow Man watches the grainy feed from the station platform’s surveillance camera. It’s not exactly riveting viewing; Agent Scully paces back and forth, having arrived at the station more than an hour before the train is due. But, this is what he does. He watches. All day long, day after day, he watches and he listens.

It’s a form of omniscience, being able to drop into the daily life of virtually anyone he may choose, whenever he needs to, observing unseen from the shadows. (Not the most imaginative moniker, this one these FBI agents have given him, but he supposes it does fit.) Tonight, all he needs is confirmation that Mulder really is going to get off that train.

Scully’s posture belies not only anticipation but also fear. Her guard is fully up, but she need not worry. Not tonight, anyway. Let them have their reunion. He will call tomorrow to arrange a meeting, and then he’ll eliminate Mulder once and for all. He has waited months for this opportunity; one more night is nothing.

That is, until something happens that tosses every one of his carefully-laid plans out the window: someone blacks out the camera lens.

Ah. So. His little employee has finally started to put the pieces together, has he? He supposes it was just a matter of time, but this is particularly inconvenient. Without eyes on the platform, he loses his advantage. Despite his claims to the contrary, it would absolutely be possible for Mulder and Scully to vanish into the wind, away from his view. He cannot let that happen.

He glances at the clock and scowls. It will be a close-run thing, getting to Alexandria from Bethesda before the train arrives, but the late hour and empty roads are on his side. He’s out the door and on the road in minutes, speeding southward.

Looks like Mulder and Scully won’t be getting their little reunion after all. But they’re the ones who decided not to play along. Now the plan has to change, and that’s fine by him. A predatory grin lurks at the corners of his mouth as he presses harder on the accelerator.

This ends tonight.

***

As the train begins to slow on approach to the station, Mulder’s leg bounces with both nerves and excitement. Beside him, Gibson is still and silent, all of his attention focused on the thoughts of the people outside.

Suddenly he gasps and grabs Mulder’s arm. “You can’t go out there.”

No, please, I’m so close...

“You can hear someone out there?” Mulder asks tightly.

“Yes! There’s a man, and he’s one of them. He wants to kill you.”

“Damnit…”

Scully said we’d be safe. Oh no, Scully…

“Is Scully in danger?”

Gibson’s eyes are wide. “I don’t know. He’s… he’s got a gun, and he’s not aiming for her, but he doesn’t care that she’s in the way.”

Mulder leaps to his feet.

“Wait! You can’t!”

The three pops of gunfire are muted from inside the train car, but Mulder hears them anyway. He hurtles forward to lean over Gibson and peer out the window. There’s movement on the platform, bodies on the ground, but it’s too dark and they’re too far away for him to make out any detail.

The train picks up speed again, and a ripple of confused chatter fills the car and drowns out the conductor’s words coming over the loudspeaker. Mulder’s insides give a desperate lurch as he catches just a glimpse of Scully’s stricken face through the window. She’s on her feet, thank god. She wasn’t shot.

For the span of a heartbeat, there she is in front of him, real and solid, not just a presence in his mind. But then she’s gone again as the train whisks him past, and he wants to cry out at the injustice of it. It’s not fair. I was so close. The months of separation feel like an iron band around his ribs.

But it’s clearly still not safe to go home. He knows she wouldn’t have brought him out of hiding unless she truly believed it would be okay, but apparently whoever led her to that belief was either wrong or lying. Will it ever be completely safe? Is this what the rest of his life is going to be, this hiding and running and always looking over his shoulder? Feeling like he’s in this limbo, merely existing while the rest of his life carries on thousands of miles away without him?

It’s not until Gibson grabs him by the arm and shakes him that he realizes the boy has been speaking. He blinks.

“What?”

“He’s on the train! The man who was on the platform. He knows you’re here, and he’s coming after you!”

Mulder snaps to attention. “Can you tell where he is?”

Gibson squeezes his eyes shut, visibly shaking from concentration or fear or both. “He’s… he’s three cars ahead, but under… hanging on to the underside. I think he was on the tracks and then grabbed on to the train as it went over him.” He opens his eyes again, wide. “We have to get out of here!”

Mulder’s stomach tightens as he does a quick mental calculation. While he didn’t plan for this exact scenario, he did look up several potential places he could try to go, in case it turned out that it wasn’t safe in D.C. after all. One of them is a quarry with significant iron deposits, just south of Alexandria. The tracks run near enough that he just might make it, might be able to lead the man there, if he can manage to avoid getting caught first.

Quickly, nonverbally, he rushes to convey his plan to Gibson. He’s got about two or three minutes to jump off the train and hope to god the man follows him. He jerks open the zipper on his backpack and pulls out one of the burner phones he bought, as well as a couple of hundred dollar bills, shoving both into his pocket.

“I hoped we wouldn’t have to use these,” he says aloud, “but this is exactly why I bought them. Stay on the train for two more stops, then find somewhere to lay low. Let me know where you are, and I’ll come find you. The number for this phone is on the paper in the backpack. Got it?”

“What if something happens to you?”

Call Scully, Mulder tells him telepathically. “But I’m hoping it won’t come to that,” he adds.

Gibson nods, and Mulder gives his shoulder a squeeze before hurrying down the aisle to the door. He moves quickly between cars, into and through the one in front of where they were sitting, and then the next. If Gibson’s right, the man should be there just ahead of him, underneath the very next car.

Mulder’s heart pounds as he turns the latch to open the exterior door. He certainly doesn’t want to get caught, but he also needs to make sure the man follows him into the quarry and doesn’t get on the train and go after Gibson. Outside the ground rushes past, and he steels himself for how much this next part is going to suck.

I am getting way too old for this shit.

He grips the handrail beside the door and leans forward as much as he dares.

“Hey asshole!” he shouts into the wind. “Looking for me?!”

Taking one last deep breath, he jumps.

***

Only when she is absolutely certain that the Shadow Man super-soldier isn’t coming after her does Scully stop running. She looks around wildly. Mulder has to still be here, somewhere.

“Mulder!”

It’s Arizona all over again, with her shouting his name into the night, hoping against hope for some answering call.

“Mulder!”

But as was the case in Arizona, she receives no response.

***

The roller coaster of emotion is too much for Gibson. His own feelings are magnified by what he hears in Mulder’s thoughts, a sort of resonating loop that spirals him toward despair and exhaustion.

So he sleeps. It is, mercifully, a dreamless slumber, and it cradles him all the way back to New Mexico. Mulder gently shakes him awake, and they wordlessly disembark, waiting amid the other passengers while Mulder’s motorcycle is unloaded. Once they retrieve it, it’s a quiet ride back to the trailer neither of them had hoped to see again, though once they crest the hill and finally come within sight of it, Gibson lets out a sigh of relief.

#x-files fanfic #TXF: Trust No 1 #mulderfic #scullyfic #gibson praise #msr #mulder on the run #a/n: lol at myself for thinking (way back in october) that i would get this finished and posted soon #ah well #here it is at long last :)#will 2021 be the year i finally finish this scenes-in-between project?#who knows! but that would be cool!#;)#hi friends #hope you are all doing well

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freddiesaysalright · 4 years ago

Text

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Chapter 3

Gwilym!Prince Charming x Reader

Summary: After losing your parents, your step-family makes your life impossible. That is, until Prince Gwilym holds a ball. It’s your one chance for everything to change.

Word Count: 2.8k (sorry it’s short)

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @im-an-adult-ish, @queen-paladin, @rogerina-owns-me, @mirkwoodshewolf, @namelesslosers, @headl0ng, @captvianswaan, @folietracksix, @baltimoresweethearts, @killer-queen-87, @haileymoreolikestupid, @itsametaphorgwil If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this update!

Warning(s): Mild descriptions of abuse

Moodboard

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3 here we go!!!

Eleanor and Miranda were immediately all aflutter, speaking so much and so rapidly that if you hadn’t been standing beside them, you would not have believed it was only two people making so much noise. You couldn’t keep track of who was saying what.

“A ball?!”

“What for?”

“Who’s going to be there?”

“Is it a special invitation?”

“Will the prince be there?”

“Oh, do say the prince will be there!”

Your own mind was spinning with similar questions. But there was one at the forefront.

“Silence!” Frank interrupted harshly. “The invitation says the whole town has been invited - upon the prince’s request - to attend the ball in honor of his birthday. The king added that he hopes any and all eligible maidens will attend, as the prince is ready to marry.”

“Marry!” gasped Eleanor.

“You mean - he’s really looking for his wife?!” added Miranda.

“This is the moment I’ve been waiting for,” he said. “This could be the chance for you, my daughters, to prove your worth. One of you must win his heart.”

You saw your step sisters deflate at their father’s words. Your heart was moved with pity. But, there was still something you had to ask.

“May I go to the ball?” you blurted out.

Frank’s eyes widened when he looked at you, as if realizing only just now that you were present. Clearly, he had not meant for you to hear.

“You?” Eleanor sneered. “A servant?”

The sympathy you felt a moment ago evaporated.

“It says any and all eligible maidens,” you reminded them. “That applies to me. And it is the king’s wishes. The king’s wishes are as good as orders, don’t you think?”

You kept your tone even and cool, fearful Frank might mistake your suggestion for impudence. But you knew better than to outright question him again.

“Father, you can’t -” Miranda began, but Frank held up a hand to stop her.

He smiled at you in such a sinister way it sent a chill down your spine.

“Certainly, Y/N, you may attend the ball,” he said.

You blinked, honestly shocked that you had persuaded him. He kept his hand in the air when his daughters tried to protest again.

“If you get your chores done,” he said.

You beamed. “Oh, I will!”

“And,” he said, making you hesitate. “If you can find something suitable to wear.”

“I will, sir,” you assured him. “Thank you so much!”

You hurried away to finish your chores for the day. Frank watched you go, a scowl forming across his lips.

“Father, you don’t really mean she can go to the ball, do you?” asked Eleanor.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Frank spat. “Of course she isn’t going.”

“Then why did you -”

“Don’t worry about her!” he cut across Miranda harshly. “Her attendance is conditional, and don’t forget, I set the conditions.”

He grinned to himself as his daughters exchanged worried looks.

Before you went to bed that night, you went to your mother’s old room. Frank had left it untouched since her death. Her wardrobe was large and varied, so you knew you would be able to find something in there to wear to the ball. You scanned through the gowns, trying to decide on a color. A soft pink caught your eye, so you reached for it. You pulled it free from the rack and held it up, examining for any flaws. Technically speaking, there were none. It was just out of date.

“So much for that idea,” you sighed.

You started to hang it up again, but stopped. You could sew. You altered dresses for your step sisters all the time. Surely you could make some adjustments to this gown and look good enough for the ball. You looked over it once more, noting to yourself all that you could reasonably do within the next 24 hours. You bit your lip. You would need more time than that.

The clock in the hall chimed. You would have to get up in a few hours to do your daily chores. A rash idea came to you - stay up through the night and fix the dress, do your chores quickly, and get a short nap before going to the ball. You could miss dinner if necessary. Through a yawn, you nodded.

Taking the dress to your room, you started in for the night.

***

Gwilym awoke the morning of the ball feeling light and excited. He had interacted with a few people from the town before, but nothing to this degree. He wanted to truly get to know his people, and be a better leader to them. His father was right about things changing - Gwilym wanted to be more of a servant to his people than a sovereign.

He went down to breakfast, joining his father and his friends. The younger men were reading letters from home, while the king was signing some documents.

“Good morning,” Gwiylm greeted cheerfully as he took his seat.

The butler placed a plate in front of him while a footman loaded it with food.

“You’re awfully chipper,” the king said. “I hope that means you’re ready for your ball.”

“I am,” Gwilym assured him. “This is the most exciting birthday I’ve ever had.”

Suddenly, Rami choked on the bite of food he was eating. Gwilym reached over and clapped him on the back, while Rami cleared his throat and took a sip of tea. Through watery eyes, he offered an apologetic glance around the table.

“Good news from your wife?” Ben wondered. “Or is it…”

Rami shook his head. “No, it’s good. She...she’s still pregnant.”

“Alright!” Ben cried excitedly.

“That’s fantastic!” Gwilym agreed.

Both of them knew that Rami and his wife had been struggling to keep a pregnancy. It concerned them both so much, they had a doctor examine them for any problems. The queen required a small surgical procedure, after which there were supposed to be no problems. Rami even hesitated coming to Gwilym’s party in case they got bad news again, but his wife insisted he go. Now, he sniffled as he looked at the letter.

“She made it past three months,” he explained. “The doctor said that’s a sign the baby should make it.”

“That’s wonderful, Ram,” Ben said. “Really, being a dad is the best, you’re gonna love it!”

“I hope it’s a strapping young boy,” the king interjected. “Should remind your people that you’re a king now.”

Rami chuckled. “They can keep calling me Prince Rami, I don’t mind. And as for the baby...boy or girl, as long as they’re happy and healthy I couldn’t care less.”

Gwilym looked at the king, who seemed to be softening. Then the latter met his own son’s gaze.

“You see, Gwil?” the king asked. “The joys of marriage?”

“I do,” Gwilym replied. “But part of that joy is because Rami loves his wife so much.”

“You really aren’t going to let this love thing go, are you?” the king asked, defeated.

Gwilym shook his head. “Not a chance.” He looked at his friend. “Congratulations, Rami. That’s great news.”

“Thanks, Gwil,” he replied.

“Yes, all health and good fortune to your wife,” the king added.

“Thank you,” Rami answered.

They continued breakfast, and Ben told Rami all the great parts of fatherhood that he had to look forward to. And for the first time, Gwilym did feel a pang of jealousy at the happiness of his friends. He seemed resistant to his father, but all he wanted was a partner like Ben and Rami had found for themselves. He hoped beyond reason that whoever was meant for him would appear tonight. And then he could say to his father and everyone else - “At last, I’ve found her!”

***

By some miracle, you had finished your dress before breakfast. You stood up through a yawn and went to help Elsie get breakfast ready. You’d probably kick yourself later, but it was worth it. The dress was beautiful, and looked like the style you’d need for the ball.

A pleasant surprise came when Frank told you he and the girls would be going to town today to shop for new gowns for them to wear. You nodded, and assured him everything would be done by the time they returned. Once they were gone, Elsie came over to you.

“Y/N, my dear, go up to bed,” she said. “Robert and I can handle the chores.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, yawning again. “I can help, I really don’t mind.”

“We’re sure,” she said. “Go on and get some sleep. Tonight could be the most magical night of your life. Don’t spoil it by being tired.”

You agreed and shuffled back to the servant’s quarters. You crawled into your bed and shut your heavy eyelids, dreaming of the joys the ball would bring. You dreamt of music, dancing, your gown, and the face of Gwilym. Perhaps he would be there, and he could see you at your best.

Your eyes snapped open. Gwilym was having a ball according to his friends. There were people coming from all over. Could it be that he was the prince, and was inviting the townspeople to his birthday? How had you not put it together before? Gwilym was the prince!

Your heart sank. If that was the case, you had to give up any hope of him. A prince could not be with a servant. Even if by birth you were a gentleman’s daughter, you no longer held that place. Frank had robbed you of it. Gwilym was out of your reach.

You fell asleep despite your heart breaking at the thought of not being enough. You were just too tired. You slept just a couple hours before Elsie came to wake you. You would need some time to appear fresh when Frank got home.

The girls demanded your help in getting ready, and you obliged. They ordered you around to pick up their sashes and necklaces and ear bobs and petticoats - just to find the perfect look for the evening. You even helped them put on some rouge and style their hair. They looked beautiful. But, you knew what they were like on the inside. You wondered if Gwilym would have the chance to meet them. And if he did, would he see their true nature?

The ball was set to begin at eight o’clock. Your step sisters were ready by seven, so they had time to have dinner before leaving. While they ate, you went up to get ready. Elsie helped you into your dress, but you did your own hair. You pinned it back, away from your face, the way your mother always liked it. You admired yourself in the mirror a moment. A jolt of nerves went through you. You still didn’t look like your step sisters. How would you compare to all the other fine ladies you were sure were attending tonight?

You shook your head. You couldn’t think about that. You couldn’t think about Gwilym. You were just going to go and have a good time. Take a well-earned break. And if you met someone there, then very well, but if not, you promised yourself you wouldn’t be too disappointed.

***

Gwilym stood still while his valet finished with his clothes. There was still about an hour before the ball would start, and he would be meeting all the noble women his father invited. And yet, your face swam into view in his mind. He had barely stopped thinking about you since seeing you that day at the cemetery, and then again at the tavern. He still felt flush each time he recalled you wishing him good luck. Well, he certainly needed it tonight. Especially if you turned up.

***

At half past seven, the carriage was pulled to the front to take you all to the palace. You came down and couldn’t help but smile. Frank looked you over and scowled.

“What is this?” he demanded.

You faltered, coming to a stop about a yard away from him. Something in his face frightened you.

“It was my mother’s,” you said, turning to show him. “I’ve updated it to match the current style, but -”

“Stop!” he cut across you. “There are very few things that are left of your mother’s, and you chose to take one - without permission - and ruin it?!”

“I haven’t ruined it, I just -”

“You stupid, selfish girl!” he shouted, crossing the front hall in just three strides. He was so close to your face, you had to take a step back. “You really think I’d let you go to the ball now? When you have defaced the property of my dearly departed wife?!”

“I didn’t know -”

“Silence!” he snapped. “I will not allow you to defend this behavior. Take off the gown at once.”

You stepped back again, but he followed.

“I don’t have anything else,” you said meekly.

He snarled, reached out his hand, and grabbed a handful of the bodice, right at the chest. He yanked down hard, pulling you so much that you stumbled. You heard a long riiiiip as the dress came apart at the seams. The front was completely torn away, revealing your corset underneath. You gasped and moved to cover yourself, but his next move came for your sleeve. He jerked it away from your arm and tossed it to the floor, along with the piece from the bodice. He repeated with the other sleeve. He took the sash next and wrenched it away.

You felt hot tears of humiliation and shame run down your cheeks. You kept your arms in front of you and sank to the floor.

“Stop it,” you croaked out. “Please.”

He raised his hand and you shrunk away, fearing he might truly strike you.

“Father,” Miranda said. “We’re going to be late.”

Frank slowly lowered his hand to his side. He glowered at you.

“Clean up this mess,” he ordered. “And never again presume to have a claim on things that belonged to my wife.”

Your lips trembled as he swept away. The girls followed him out. You kept your eyes fixed on the floor questioning what had just happened to you. It didn’t seem real. But the pieces of the dress sat on the floor just feet away from you, clear as crystal. When you heard the door close, you buried your face in your hands and let out a sob.

***

Gwilym waited to be announced. The king went first, followed by Rami, since he was king of the neighboring country. Ben was announced next, since he was a visitor and prince. And then Gwilym. As he stepped out into the ballroom, he scanned the crowd, hoping to spot you. All he saw so far was glittering jewels and satin gowns. He sighed before making his way forward to begin introductions.

He had asked Ben and Rami to be on the lookout for you as well. When the first half hour was over, he took a break and went to his friends.

“Any sign of her?” he asked.

Rami shook his head. “I haven’t seen her.”

“Me neither,” Ben said. “Sorry, mate.”

Gwilym sighed. “She must not be coming.”

“There’s still some carriages outside,” Ben said encouragingly. “She could be on any one of them.”

“Yeah, don’t give up just yet,” Rami said. “You’ve got all night.”

Gwilym nodded. He knew he mustn’t be over anxious, but couldn’t help feeling sore. Where were you? What could have kept you from this?

***

You escaped the house and fled to the garden. That was where your mother always took you for comfort. Your father loved to garden, and you always remembered him in this place. In truth, it was a place that was cherished by both your parents, and you needed to feel close to them now. You flopped down onto one of the benches and cried some more.

“It’s no use,” you sobbed. “God, it’s hopeless.”

You brought your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them. Your tears splashed into the fabric of your ruined dress.

“Now, my dear,” said a soft voice to your left.

You whipped your head up and faced the source. There in the garden stood a plump woman in a white cloak. Her silver hair hung around her face in delicate curls. She had a metallic glow around her as well that drew you in. In her right hand, she held a staff with a sapphire the size of a fist at the top.

Fear and amazement kept you frozen where you sat. She didn’t appear to be a threat, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t. And yet, you felt like you knew her somehow.

“Wh-who are you?” you wondered. “How did you get in here?”

“With magic, my dear,” she said, beaming. “As for my identity - I’m your fairy godmother.”

“My…” your brow furrowed. “My what?”

“Your fairy godmother,” she repeated kindly. “And I understand you are in desperate need of some help.”

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee x you #Brian May #brian may imagine #brian may x reader #brian may x you #bohemian rhapsody #BoRhap #BoRhap cast #borhap boys #borhap cast x reader #borhap cast imagine #borhap cast x you #borhap boys x reader #borhap boys imagine #borhap boys x you #a dream is a wish your heart makes series

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ninjakitty15 · 3 years ago

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Hair Today, Gone Tonight (Loki Oneshot)

It was not uncommon for Loki to take his time in his bathroom preparing himself for the day, he was a prince of Asgard after all and had to keep up appearance in every aspect. It was also not uncommon for him to stare long and hard at himself in the mirror to make sure every detail was perfect about himself, especially when he was always beside his perfect older brother the crown prince who could do nor look no wrong and constantly demanded all eyes to be on him. It was then slightly more uncommon for Loki to linger at his reflection as only once in a grand while would he actually find an imperfection or flaw that needed his utmost attention and time to fix or magic away. So in theory it was normal for Loki to take an awfully long time glaring at his reflection once more before he greeted the rest of the royal court of Asgard. Today was however an exception to all these things as it was a very rare occurrence for him to be cursing the Norns and growling in frustration during his daily preparations. The reason for this of course was because what was staring back at him in the mirror between his keen nose and his snarling, thin upper lip wasn’t just an imperfection but an impossibility.

Loki had come to accept early on in his long life that he would never sport such an eyesore of a facial feature as was seen mocking his otherwise perfect appearance. It wasn’t even a dashing looking mark like Fandral had, that suave blond bastard. He had long since come to take pride in his smooth, hairless appearance though as Volstagg and Thor were proof that with great hair comes great irresponsibility. Whenever there was a great feast within the palace walls, and there was always a feast for some reason or another, between the two of those bilgesnipes there would be a massacre that started at the dining table and end on their face. And Frigga wondered why Loki wasn’t gorging himself during the feasts like everyone else was. It wasn’t that hard to figure out when you’re stuck sitting between the beast with two beards, you either grow a stronger stomach or lose your appetite quite quick.

It also wasn’t hard to figure out that because it was impossible for Loki to grow face fuzz that not only was the one he had now not natural, but it wasn’t his doing at all and thus someone had to answer for that crime. No amount of scrubbing, potions, illusions, shapeshifting, or even old fashioned makeup could get rid of it either which further irked him but also narrowed down his list of suspects to one person. just the one, that had both access to his personal chambers within the palace walls but more importantly was foolish enough to prank the trickster god while he was taking a much needed nap after sparring against his brute of an older brother. Just one royal resident in fact besides Loki himself had inherited Frigga’s gift for magic as was clearly the source of this monstrosity of a moustache as if the mere sight of it didn’t irritate him enough. That fool was toast.

Loki threw open his bedchamber doors with vengeance in his eyes, already knowing his prey wouldn’t be too far, wanting to see his reaction to what transpired before running off. Right on cue as the door banged open, Loki could hear not too distant wicked giggling and the quickened pace of hasty foosteps fleeing from him. The telltale signs of a brat about to be caught that was too troublesome and young to master a decent gambling face, especially when they’re enjoying their troublemaking entirely too much. Loki easily started gaining on the little gremlin before their rounded a corner and disappeared into the nearest room with a squeal of, “save meeee!” Loki wasted no time blasting open the doors the brat was hiding behind with a wave of his hand which was still glowing green with his own magic to see Thor standing between him and his prey unsurprisingly, arms crossed and attempting to look imposing to someone that grew up with his own shenanigans.

“Step aside, brother, I have a pesky little bug to squash,” growled Loki, his gaze fixed on the twerp hiding behind Thor.

“I know you don’t mean my son but as I don’t see any other living thing here besides us, I think you must be mistaken on there being anything here to squish,” Thor challenged back.

Loki rolled his eyes at Thor’s attempt at diplomacy. “The only mistake here besides your attempt to stop me is your son’s current choice in free time activities and that is why I’m here to see that he fixes it before I fix him.”

“What are you prattling on about?” demanded Thor defensively.

Loki had also long since mastered the art of deception and redirecting people’s attention from an issue thanks entirely to his brother’s baffoonery as younger adults so he had been keeping his face turned away from his brother’s gaze to keep an eye on his prey. Till now when he actually met Thor’s eyes whose widened in surprise and mirth.

“Can’t you just wash that off?” Thor suggested, trying hard to suppress his laughter.

“That’s brilliant, Thor, I wish I thought of that first! Oh what a great help you are!” snapped Loki before he snapped his glowing fingers and a green ring appeared around Thor before the elder brother fell through the floor, leaving his son, Loki’s nephew wide open.

The little brat had the audacity to stand his ground as his father had taught him after fleeing initially and put up his fists in a fighting stance, even less imposing looking than his father was being less than half Thor’s size and not remotely as strong either.

“Who will save you now, I wonder?” growled Loki as he advanced on the cornered kid, a million different versions of vengeance dancing through his mind.

“You wouldn’t hurt your own nephew, would you?” the child had the balls to ask innocently.

“You are aware of our family’s long history of deception and betrayals, aren’t you?” Loki asked incredulously. “Why would I be exempt from that rule after you just followed that trait yourself, enchanting this disgusting feature on me? Get it off and I might consider a more merciful fate for you than what I’m currently planning.”

“And what are you planning?”

“Try my patience stalling the inevitable and you may have your answer soon enough. Off. Now.” To emphasize Loki’s point, he summoned a dagger in one hand while his other still glowed with magic.

The child reluctantly magically erased the enchanted ink scribbled on Loki’s face before a dagger was hurled at his head as Thor returned to the scene through the window behind him. The child however vanished as an illusion projection, the dagger at the same time disappearing as well as Loki clearly wasn’t actually going to stab him with it, it took years for Thor to get used Loki’s points, his child had a ways to go. Despite both child and weapon not being present in the room, Thor still had a sense to confront Loki after being literally dropped by him earlier. Loki however had other thoughts and a vast majority of them were still vengeance before dishonor, he too disappeared from the room before Thor could have a few choice words with him.

Thor’s son was very much like his dad in that he thought he had become pretty clever and believed he knew Loki fairly well. Well enough to trick the trickster at least. He also knew that anything and everything within Loki’s room was something secretive, powerful, and valuable and he wanted in on that. So that’s where he was, trying to sense with his quickly growing magical abilities where Loki kept those special artifacts. Finally, he managed to find something tugging on his magic from under Loki’s massive kingsized bed and eagerly scrambled under it in hopes of some kind of cool treasure to show off to his peers later. His hands brushed against a small wooden chest that seemed to be locked but he easily magicked the lock to open for him. He could barely contain his excitement as he grasped the lid of the chest with both hands eagerly and the faintest of green glows came from the box before he popped it open. He barely had time to scream as a large green snake sprang from the chest and wrapped itself around his hands and arms, effectively restraining him while its head was stationed next to his and poised to bite his neck, baring its fangs as if to strike. As he writhed and struggled against the snake’s hold, his ankles were suddenly seized by an icy cold grip and he was yanked out from under the bed and lifted upside down to face a lean, gold and green adorned abdomen.

“You think you were the first to try this tactic on me? Where do you think you got that idea from?”

The snake still wrapped around the brat seemed to laugh at his captive while the owner of the snake let go of his ankle, keeping the kid afloat before he was turned right side up to face the bemused god of mischief he was caught by properly.

“Perhaps you should ask your father what actually happened anytime he tried his little attempts at tricking a master trickster, his mistakes could be your lessons.”

“Or my triumphs,” snarked the kid back.

“And how is that working in your favor thus far?” Loki asked him slyly. “Your father has had centuries to try that on me, how old are you again?” He let the kid go and the snake melted into a large toy snake the kid was quick to escape from. “If I see you in my room without my permission, if you ruin a nap for me again, you’ll find your worst fear under your bed.”

“I don’t fear anything.” The kid held onto the toy snake, hoping to at least impress his peers with its realistic though rubber look.

“Your father said the same thing when I gave him that warning and he didn’t stop checking under his bed till he he had women in it.” Loki snapped his fingers and the kid was sent out of his room and back to his father for good this time.

Loki stalked back to his bathroom once more and looked at himself in the mirror just to be sure it was gone for good before sticking out a forked tongue at his reflection and smirking. He wondered if fears were a hereditary thing as that would make this whole “uncle” thing that much easier though he always liked a challenge in the end and his nephew having magic did have its merits. Let the prank wars begin...

#loki oneshot #writing prompts #Loki #Thor #Asgard #for @kaogasm

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bytheangell · 5 years ago

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Ahead of Ourselves

(Read on AO3) Square Filled: Doctor AU for @shadowhunterbingo Pairing: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Rating: Teen and Up – Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary: A lot of the hospital staff thinks that Dr. Lightwood is a little heartless... but Magnus discovers he might just be as good at acting a he is at medicine. -------------

Magnus doesn’t bother to hide his displeasure at being paired with Alec Lightwood for today’s surgery. As the son of the owners of the hospital, Alec gets whatever he wants whenever he wants it, and Magnus might hate him a little bit for it. After fighting so hard to get where he is, Magnus can’t help the sting of jealousy to see someone handed everything he ever wanted. Sure, Alec’s good at what he does, but in Magnus’ humble opinion he’s no better than the rest of them.

He’s also an asshole.

Mangus allows himself a moment of indulgent whining with Catarina on one of their lunch breaks over sad excuses for salad from the cafeteria. “Think about it - when was the last time you saw him eat, or sleep, or get upset? I’m telling you - a robot.”

Okay, maybe Magnus is getting ahead of himself since ‘asshole’ gives Alec the illusion of having enough feelings to even be rude - Magnus has a running joke with some of his friends at the hospital that Alec Lightwood is, in fact, an emotionless surgical robot that the Lightwoods created to pa their legacy down to. No matter how many patients he loses Magnus has never, not once, seen the man shed a single tear. He delivers bad news to families without batting a single, perfectly full eyelash.

He’s cold and uncaring and Magnus doesn’t particularly want to know what sort of person can be that way.

Alec’s sister, the resident forensic pathologist, insists that Magnus should try to get to know him better, that he really isn’t all that bad underneath it all. Magnus tries a few times, and he almost manages to get Alec to crack a smile at some shitty pun he made before Alec reminds him that they are working and it isn’t a time for jokes.

So when Magnus sees his name listed on the board under Alec’s, he knows he’s in for a long, boring, silent surgery later that night.

Unfortunately, all the quiet focus in the world isn’t enough to save their patient. Magnus curses, slamming his fist on the table next to him with tears stinging his eyes before the final, frantic beep fades into a flatline.

“Time of death,” Alec announces, voice so frustratingly neutral as he takes off his gloves that Magnus’ tears double in frustration at the sound of it. “11:08 pm.”

Magnus takes one look at the girl on the table and is already starting to run through a million split-second decisions, wondering if there was anything they could’ve done differently to ave her. They knew the odds on this one were bad, but they weren’t 0% - he just wasn’t good enough.

Alec takes one look at him and Magnus can practically feel the judgment despite Alec’s usual stone-faced demeanor. This isn’t the first patient Magnus lost, and it won’t be the last, but each one hits just as hard.

“I’ll talk to the family. You go pull yourself back together before rounds.”

And then he’s gone.

Magnus does, of course, pull himself back together in time for his rounds, with the help of Catarina’s reassurances that he can’t save everyone and nobody expects him to - not the Lightwoods, or the other staff, or even the patients.

When Magnus finally gets a chance to nap for a few minutes it seems as if everyone else has the same idea - after trying all the usual on-call rooms he normally crashes in during his long shifts, Magnus finds an empty cot in one of the farther corners of the hospital, in a wing so barely used he’s honestly surprised it isn’t blocked off by now.

He also finds someone else already sitting in the dark - Magnus might not have even noticed in his current state of exhaustion if they weren’t obviously crying.

“Don’t worry, I can sleep through some crying, pretend I’m not even here,” Magnus says, expecting his attempt at lighthearted comfort to be aimed at some intern who came out of the way to avoid anyone seeing them upset.

“Fuck,” he hears instead, followed by a sniffle and the sound of hands frantically wiping at a face.

He knows that voice, even in the dark.

“...Doctor Lightwood?”

“Just… shit. No one ever comes up here. Sorry,” Alec says, voice shaky with more emotion than Magnus thought him capable of.

Magnus hesitates.

He could follow his own suggestion and pretend Alec isn’t even there. He should. But he can’t, because he heard that tell-tale sign of crying and would feel too guilty just pretending he didn’t.

“Can I turn on the light?” Magnus asks.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Alec mutters.

“...do you, uh, want to talk about it?” Magnus tries.

“If I did would I be hiding out in here?” Alec counters. “I’m fine. I just need a minute then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Mmhmm,” Magnus agrees. He picks an empty cot and tries to close his eyes, but he can’t bring himself to actually fall asleep now. He tosses over once, then twice, before giving up.

“Okay, but you don’t get upset. Or angry. Or happy. So this is weird, and I can’t just let it go,” Magnus says finally.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I do this all the time, so really, it isn't a big deal?” Alec offers.

Magnus frowns. “...that doesn’t make me feel better at all,” he admits. “What do you mean ‘all the time’? You never do this.”

“Yes, I do. I just never let anyone see me do it. Do you think my parents are going to stand for their son walking around crying on a daily basis? Or, like, ever?” Alec huffs out a derisive laugh. “They have a reputation to uphold, which means I have a reputation to uphold. Heaven forbid a Lightwood has anything that can even vaguely be perceived as a flaw.”

Well shit. Magnus wasn’t ready for any of this, and honestly, he isn’t sure what to do with it now that it’s sitting heavy in the room. “You’re allowed to have emotions. You’re not - contrary to rumors I may or may not have started personally - an actual robot.” Magnus winces.

“Tell that to my parents,” he says. “I’m honestly not sure which they’ll be more upset over - losing the patient in the first place, or letting it get to me like this. I shouldn’t have let either happen tonight, let alone both.” Alec gives a rough sniff, and Magnus’ eyes are adjusted enough to the dim light that filters in through the window now that he can see Alec fidgeting with his hands and biting on his lower lip.

Magnus hates how casually Alec talks down on himself, despite the fact that Magnus himself was very sarcastically saying the same things about him not too long ago. Isabelle was right - he just needed to get to know Alec a little better. He hates her for that.

“No one’s perfect. NOt even you, apparently. I’m not going to lie, it’s refreshing to know. But I’m, uh, sorry you feel like you need to be. Guess no familial pressure is the one up-side to not having any family left.” Magnus wonders if maybe opening up a bit himself will encourage Alec to do the same. “If you ever want to talk-”

“Listen, I don’t need you to feel bad for me. Sorry for dumping all that shit on you just now, I don’t know what came over me. Just pretend this never happened, and you can go back to talking shit about me to my sister and everyone else in this hospital, and I can go back to keeping this room for myself.” There’s an edge to Alec’s tone like he just realized everything he’s been saying since he started what seems to be an entirely accidental venting he probably wishes he could take back. Magnus can practically feel him putting a wall up between them.

“Alexander-” Magnus starts, but Alec stands and crosses the room to the door before he can say anything more.

“I should go. Get some rest, Doctor Bane.” And just like Alec closes himself off again, leaving Magnus alone in the dark.

---

The problem is that Magnus can’t just pretend it never happened. He wants to. His life would be a lot easier if he did, probably. But instead, he finds himself watching Alec, really observing him, now that he knows what to look for.

Magnus can tell when Alec is intentionally pushing others away and closing himself off, and it’s almost always right before, and immediately after, surgeries. Magnus always thought that his kind bedside manner was the show he put on for patients but it doesn’t take long to realize that that is more the real Alec than anything else. It’s the cold, calculated version of himself he keeps on in the hallways and around his peers that’s the act.

And god, how tiring that must be for him, Magnus realizes.

Magnus also starts to notice the periods of time Alec’s nowhere to be found, and no one seems particularly inclined to go looking for him if it isn’t an emergency - except Magnus knows exactly where Alec goes now. The next time a surgery goes wrong Magnus slips a note underneath the door telling Alec that everyone is talking about how he did his best, better than anyone else would’ve done under the same circumstances.

The next time Alec loses a patient and needs to inform the family Magnus finds out his favorite hospital-accessible comfort food from Isabelle (which happens to be the greasiest burger Magnus has ever seen) and leaves it on the table in Alec’s usual hideout.

All the while nothing changes between the two of them. Magnus still makes terrible jokes that Alec only rolls his eyes at, before walking off without a single word and ignoring him just as much as - if not even more than - he did before. It’s a good thing Magnus is nothing if not persistent, and hardly deterred by a little silent treatment when he tries to say hi a bit more often in the hallways.

The more Magnus tries to get him to open up again, the more Alec closes off. He even yells at Magnus in the hallway over something so trivial Magnus forgets about it by the end of the day.

Through it all Magnus continues to leave little notes and pick-me-up gifts for Alec (Isabelle, upon realizing what he’s doing, is more than willing to provide him with all the inside information he needs for things like Alec’s favorite color or coffee order. She also tells him Alec’s favorite flower, and while he’s stunned that Alec even has a favorite flower Magnus also has to insist that isn’t what this is at all before poor Izzy gets ahead of herself).

Not that Magnus can really say what it is he’s doing, or why he’s doing it, which proves to be a problem a few weeks later when Alec loses another patient, and Magnus shows up to Alec’s ‘secret room’ only to find the door open and Alec waiting for him inside.

“What are you doing?” Alec demands, arms crossed.

“Bringing you a burger because I know you aren’t going to let yourself eat anything the rest of the night otherwise,” Magnus says simply.

“Why?”

“...because when we don’t eat, we starve. It’s like, human body 101.” Magnus deflects.

“You know what I mean,” Alec says, not letting him get out of it that easily.

“I don’t know… because no one should have to go through the stuff we go through alone the way you do. I know you didn’t want me around-around, so I just wanted to remind you that you weren’t alone.” Magnus shrugs, setting the plate down on the table near the door.

“But I was a dick to you,” Alec points out.

“Yup,” Magnus agrees. “That’s what happens when you bottle all your emotions up and push everyone away.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what Isabelle’s been saying, but-”

“She hasn’t,” Magnus reassures him. “It’s just kind of obvious once you start looking.”

“...and you’ve been looking?” Alec asks, curiously, with one scarred eyebrow arched.

“Not in, like, a creepy way or anything,” Magnus finds himself backtracking under Alec’s accusatory stare.

To his surprise, Alec laughs.

“Sorry. That was mean,” Alec says, and Magnus realizes with a strange mixture of horror and amazement that Alec’s teasing him. “I’m not going to lie, I saw you talking with Izzy a few times and thought she was putting you up to this.”

Magnus shakes his head. “Nope. Just me, all on my own, sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong,” Magnus confirms.

Alec looks down at the burger again, and then back up at Magnus. “Do you want to stay?”

Magnus, remembering why he came here in the first place, knows there isn’t a chance in hell he’s leaving Alec alone if he actually wants company right now.

“Sure,” Magnus agrees and watches as Alec makes impressive use of the plastic silverware the food comes with to cut the burger in half before offering it to Magnus.

They both sit down at the edge of the cot and eat, first in silence, and then with some semi-casual conversation, as far as two doctors on shift at a hospital can manage ‘casual’ without work-related topics cropping up here and there.

Alec is just starting to relax when his name is paged to one of his patient’s rooms over the intercom system.

Alec’s on his feet and to the door without a second thought, but pauses there to stop and look back at Magnus.

“Before I go,” he says, glancing anxiously at the speaker in the ceiling as if afraid it might cut him off before he finishes whatever he wants to say.

“Yes?” Magnus prompts, drawing Alec’s attention back to him.

“I was wondering if, maybe, I could repay you for the meal sometime?” Alec asks, and while it definitely sounds like he’s asking Magnus out there’s also, infuriatingly, not a single concrete part of that sentence that confirms Magnus’s suspicion.

“You can get me a burger from the cafeteria any time you want,” Magnus agrees.

“No, I- that is-” Alec starts again, and this time his name is repeated over the speakers and he curses again. “I’d like to take you out to dinner. If you want.”

“I’d like that,” Magnus agrees just as easily.

“Really?” Alec says, eyes widening just a little before he recovers quickly. “Right. I’ll see when we both have off and I’ll set something up, then.”

Just as quickly Alec’s gone, disappearing down the hallway.

When Magnus catches a few murmurings during his rounds of how strange everyone finds it that Doctor Lightwood is smiling a suspicious amount all of a sudden he keeps his own smile small and to himself.

And when he shows up to dinner two nights later he makes a mental note to thank Isabelle for getting ahead of herself as he watches the way Alexander’s entire face lights up at the sight of the single peony Magnus brought for him, beaming as he tucks it into his jacket pocket.

Alec has that effect, it seems, as Magnus sits across from him at dinner and does his best to not get too ahead of himself, either… but when Alec starts tossing out ideas for a second date before the first is even over, Magnus realizes he might not be the only one.

#magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #malec #ShadowhunterBingo #Isabelle Lightwood #i've had this little idea for ages and I'm glad for the excuse to finally run with it!#elle writes a few deadbeat lines #long post

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sabineelectricheart · 4 years ago

Text

A Stroll in a Dark Forest

Summary: Childbirth is like a stroll in a dark forest. You never know what comes on the other side.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Explicit depiction of non-violent adult and child character death. Reader discretion is advised.

Words: 2650

Notes: I don’t have mommy issues, I swear! Anyways, enjoy.

It was February 16th, 1927, and Dante could not believe it had been a year already.

Life had a way of speeding things up and slowing them down in such a thrilling and tricky way. This past year had gone by so fast, compared to how slow days had gone by in the Winter of 1925 until Summer of 1926.

Each day they spent together was a blessing.

The weeks flew by them. Lili was getting more and more excited each passing day. They learned she was pregnant in mid-December, and Dante was happy and Lili was thrilled. Children, continuing the bloodline, has always been a looming reality for the mob boss, and he never felt particularly strong about it.

When he was younger, dread wrapped its bony hands around his neck, when he considered that he would have to marry and, ahem, impregnate someone, someday, and it would not be the woman he loved. He consoled himself with the thought that Nicola could very well take over that particular duty for him, and so it would not matter in the end.

As their circumstances changed, as he finally was blessed with what he wanted the most, children still were not the most important thing in his mind. He would be happy if he found himself as a father, do not misunderstand, but he would be perfectly satisfied barren, too.

Nevertheless, Dante was happy that his wife was happy, and that is what mattered the most.

With pregnancy, his usually vivacious and energic wife grew tired easily, and would often take naps during the day and fall asleep as soon as she retired at night.

In the dark, Dante liked to rest his hand on her stomach, feeling the stirrings of life and the future.

Despite feeling achy and tired, Liliana was unbelievably happy. She anxiously counted off the days and months.

"Only four more months until we meet the baby!" The blonde woman would say, a smile bright on her face and a hand covering the bump on her stomach lovingly, and he would feel a protective instinct rise on his heart.

Increasingly limited in her daily activities, Lili spent her time embroidering, knitting, or doing some other dainty kind of work preparing for the child. She was infectious to all, her face alight. She shed happiness and good fortune around her, thanking God for her blessings.

Dante watched in astonishment as his beloved wife turned more into mother with each passing day. She spread love like perfume, and he loved her right back all the more. He could not have predicted how his feelings for her would have deepened, but deepen they had.

As spring came, Lili's spirits increased with the temperature. Flowers grew, and she would spend hours in the garden looking at them. She was eating well, and her midwife said that Lili was perfectly healthy, and this pregnancy was developing quite well. The baby was expected to be healthy.

She did everything in whatever manner she was supposed to. She slept well, ate all the right foods, declined alcohol, did nothing strenuous. All the while she waited for her child to come.

"Dante," she whispered once in March, late at night. She took his hand and held it to her stomach.

He felt something push up against his hand. Lili sighed. Was she in pain?

"Lili? Are you alright?" He asked, anxiety raising in his voice.

"I'm fine, I’m fine!” She said, her eyes overflowing with tears. “Dante, you just felt the baby. He just moved!"

It hit him then. This baby was alive, and coming soon. In a matter of months, it would not be just the two of them anymore.

Against his worst expectations, he already felt a profound connection to the little being living inside Lili. This child seemed to underline their connection to each other. They were no longer just in love, or simply a husband and wife, but they were to raise a child together.

Or two, or three... Dante could not say what the future held for them, but it looked good.

In June, the midwife moved into one of the guest bedrooms and they prepared a room for Lili to give birth in. On June 30th, and right on time, Lili sat up, gasping in pain and clutching her swollen stomach.

"Dante." She whispered, too quietly to wake him up. "Dante!"

His blue eyes fluttered open as a particularly painful shock ran through her, causing her to gasp.

Everything had been prepared. The midwife was woken, and Lili was transferred into the room next door. After she was settled into the bed, Dante sat down right next to her, but the midwife shook her head.

"I'm sorry, signore, but rules are rules." The midwife said, sternly, hushing him out of the room.

Dante decided he did not like this woman. How could he trust her with his wife when she was in labour? It was obviously best was that they stayed together, and she was not doing what was best.

"Let him stay!" Lili cried. "Please."

"You need to relax, Signora." The midwife said. “It will not do if you are excited or anxious.”

“No!” Lili shook her head emphatically, in tears because of the pain and because of her agitation. “I can't do this without him! I need him! I need him here!"

"Signora…" Dante said, gathering himself to argue with the healer. "May I stay just for a while? The baby surely is not coming for another few hours, is he?"

She sighed. It was not wise to argue against the mafia.

"Very well, but as soon as I have to really work, you need to leave. We cannot have you getting in the way." She replied, in tone of resignation. "I'm going to go get some cloth and cold water for signora's head. It will bring her some relief."

Lili breathed a sigh of relief as she and Dante were left alone.

"I'm so excited." Lili said, resting her hands on her stomach eagerly. The pain had subsided a little for now, and she was able to fully realize that the baby was finally coming. "Do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?"

"I have no idea." He responded, feeling faint.

Throughout the pregnancy, Lili had referred to the baby as both 'he' and 'she,' trying to see which one felt better. She had not come to any solid conclusions, though.

He sighed, thoughtful. "I just cannot believe how everything is going to change after tonight."

"Ah!" Lili cried, reaching for his hand and gripping it so tightly he thought his fingers would break.

He did not know what to do. His pulse picked up speed, and he looked around for someone to help. Tears poured out of her green, wide eyes, and he felt desperation.

She breathed deeply, trying to steady herself in spite of her whimpering in great pain. A few sobs broke through her tense disposition, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

She surely should not be in this much pain. Was something wrong? Was the baby coming to fast? It was supposed to hurt, but Lili looked as though she was dying. He could not take it.

The midwife came back then.

"Should she be in this much pain?" Dante asked anxiously. "This does not seem normal!"

"Signore, I have seen more pregnancies than you can imagine, and this is absolutely normal.” The woman responds with little patience. “It is called a contraction, and yes, they hurt. Her body is trying to push the baby out, and it takes a lot of energy."

He glared, but said nothing in retort. Lili seemed to be recovering a bit, in any case. Her grip on his hand was less painful, and her breathing was not as frantic and erratic.

Nevertheless, these contractions did not seem to be working, or so Dante thought. Two hours later, Lili was still scrunched in pain, whimpering and gasping, but the midwife still insisted they were making progress.

"Signore, it has come the time for you to leave." She insisted brusquely.

Dante found it hard to take orders from someone with their head between his wife's legs, but complied anyway, kissing Lili goodbye.

"I love you." He said, but she was too concentrated to reply.

Outside the room, he paced for hours. He thought he was going crazy, waiting like this. All he wanted was for Lili's pain to be over, so she could finally hold their baby in her arms like she wanted to.

He could only imagine the look of bliss that would be on her face as she held their child, he could almost see it. The triumphant smile, the pride, her arms at once protective and caring holding the tiny being.

Noises constantly came from inside the room. Lili was gasping, and he heard the midwife muttering things, sounding soothing and encouraging. He wished he could help, knowing Lili was in pain and suffering just made him agitated. He did not like any bit knowing she was uncomfortable and knowing he could do nothing to help.

At three in the morning, he was sitting on the ground, his eyes sliding in and out of focus as he stared at the pattern of the wallpaper. He was exhausted. He did become aware, however, that there was silence from inside the room. Then a scream, much worse than any of the cries he had heard before.

"Lili!" He cried in desperation.

Without any thinking, Dante threw open the door and ran inside. He hurried to the bed, but the midwife held out a hand, stopping him from coming any closer to his wife.

"No. This is an emergency!" She barked, but that sloppy statement certainly did nothing to ease his mind.

"This is my wife you are talking about! What's going on?" He cried. His voice was coming out strained from his closed throat.

"I have to get the baby out." The midwife said, business-like, focused on her goal.

Dante's heart seemed to stop beating. The woman released her grip on him, and he fell to his knees next to Lili on the bed, reaching for her hand.

"Lili?" He called for her, without response.

Her eyes were closed. Was she in pain? What was happening with his wife?

"Lili, I'm here." The man whispers once again, trying to coax a reaction out of her to no avail.

Her hand was limp. He turned to look at the midwife in desperation.

"What's going on?" He turned back to Lili, shaking her shoulder. "Lili? Lili! Wake up! Wake up!"

Yet, the blonde woman did not move as he shook her. He shouted over and over for her to wake up, but she did not reply. Eventually, his cries turned to sobs, and he dropped his head onto her stomach, crying into her body.

"Signore…" The midwife whispered. He looked up, and saw what she was holding. Not who, but what. His child, their child, platinum hair and blue eyes, was resting in her arms, covered in blood. Underneath the blood, however, was a grey and pallid complexion that even Dante knew meant the worst.

"I'm so, so…"

"No. Don't say anything to me." Dante cut her off coldly. "You have done enough. Just... leave. Leave me alone!"

Tears were pouring down her face, it was seldom that both the mother and the child died, and she had never seen a scene this pitiful. She wrapped the child in a blanket and handed it to Signore Falzone.

Dante took the child with shaking arms, his tears making the room blurry. He realized then that he did not have to be quiet or strong, and he clutched the child to his heart while he sobbed for the loss of his family.

He looked down, and saw Lili's face. Her beautiful eyes were forever closed, and her forehead was smooth and peaceful. He smoothed her hair back, moved her legs down. He straightened her nightgown, and tucked her hands around herself the way she liked to sleep.

They had had less than two years together. He had spoken to her for the first time just over two years ago, after waiting and hoping and looking on the outside in for so much time, and here she lay next to him, dead.

Curse his impetuousness, curse his desires, curse his seed, curse his blood. If he had done what was best from the start, his beloved wife would still be alive and well.

He knew childbirth could be dangerous, but he had not let himself think of the worst...

He hated himself. He had done this to her. If he had known this would have happened, he never would have touched her. He would have been perfectly happy just waking next to her every morning, the world of the flesh left unexplored.

The man knew that opening that door led to sin and danger, that he would be the damnation of hers, he knew what the Church expected of him. Yes, it had brought pleasure as well, but had it been worth it? No. Here, his beloved wife lay dead next to him. His heart felt like cold stone in his chest.

As he looked at their child in his arms, he realized he did not know what it was. He was reluctant to pull back the blankets, for even though he knew it was dead, the little body in his arms was so small. He did not want it to get cold.

Finally, Dante managed to look. In his arms, he held a little boy. His son lay in his arms, dead. That was not where he belonged.

What Dante did next to him seemed the most natural thing to do. He opened Lili's arms again, and, as gently as he could, he settled the little boy into his wife's arms. For she was a mother now. She never got to meet her child, but she had been a mother from the moment she realized they were to have a child together.

In Heaven, the two could be together. Lili could live there with her lost family and their son, and he would be left alone.

He did not know how he could face the coming hour, let alone the rest of his life. Here he was, twenty-five and a widower. His one and only love lay unmoving next to him. She had been so full of life, dreams, love and sweetness that he could not imagine her ever leaving the earth. She was spring, she was flowers, she was light.

How could those things exist without her now?

He had no answer. He was alone now, as he had been for the first twenty-two years of his life. She had come forth like a stray sunbeam, enchanting his life with music and Heaven for two short years, then dancing off back to God.

You always knew she was an angel, Dante thought. Now she's back home.

He hoped Lili was with their son. He hoped they were together, and he hoped to see her again soon.

Soon, unfortunately for the mob boss, was not now, and for the moment, he lay next to his family, wrapping an arm around them both and burying his face into Lili's still-warm shoulder, inhaling the scent of her hair, which still lingered.

The lack of a blush on her cheeks was the only indication of her present state.

When he closed his eyes, he could almost hear her breathing as he had every night for the past year.

He lay next to Lili and their son who she held in her arms. They were not protective or proud the way he had imagined. He would never see her look of triumph.

For one last moment, he could be with his family.

*_*_*_*_*

Piofiore Masterlist

#piofiore #dante falzone

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nyrator · 4 years ago

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random exploration of thoughts while I’m sleep deprived/post-migraine and aspirin’d up

mainly about gifts/migraine thoughts and random art idea

sleep is weird, keep debating fixing it, but then never wanting to actually commit to going to bed. Going to try to sleep at 4AM tonight, at least. Essentially stayed up all night last night, though, with a few semi-conscious naps during the day.

Kresna got me a weighted blanket to help with my anxiety, which was really nice. I’m curious to see how it may help. Between the blanket and my body being exhausted from getting back into Ring Fit for the past three days, it feels very easy to just melt into bed. Wondering if I should sleep with it regularly or not.

he also got me that Kondo manga about tidying up because I am a mess lately (rippp), but shout outs to him, he a good and he does his best to take care of me.

Been feeling guilty about Christmas honestly- time left my hands and the original gift idea I had took way too long to ship (was estimated to arrive between Dec 6th-Jan 11th, I was gambling it’d ship earlier rather than later, but realizing it’s most likely going to arrive after Christmas), so once I got confirmation that it shipped and would more likely be there in January than December, I decided to go with plan B- get him a proper gift that he could still open on Christmas day and have the other gift be his birthday present instead.

But I took too long to figure out what to get him, and when it finally hit me, the deadline was already close, and the item I wanted to get him was out of stock for a few days. I also thought it’d be a good idea to wrap it- it felt like just sending him an Amazon box wasn’t the same, it wouldn’t have the same heart behind it. So I ordered it anyway, and it said it’d be back and stock and arrive by tomorrow (today? Wednesday), which was very late, but I was still hopeful- If I used GXG shipping, it’d get there in 1-3 business days, which is very expensive ($100+), but it’d be there on time. But it just sat there, never shipping, until today, and now arriving Friday, Amazon tells me. Meaning, I don’t think there’s any way for me to get him a gift he can open on Christmas, and I have only my own poor time management to blame.

My one hope is that the first gift miraculously arrives on time, but given covid, holidays, and the fact that it’s shipping from Australia to Canada, I have my doubts. But we shall see...

but yes, in other news

main thing I felt like ranting about was migraines and also creating things

So had a partial migraine today randomly, usually I feel the aura and know I’m probably getting one the moment I wake up, but today it just happened the moment I stopped playing a game (good ol’ 100% Orange Juice), and it’s interesting trying to analyze my headache/migraine stuffs. The way my head feels is interesting- It’s always behind the left eye, always feels like it goes from either my sinuses or the nerves in the back of my neck to that eye. And my head is very... mentally tense?

It’s like, when I try to relax my face and neck, clear my thoughts, I feel just how tightly wound my thoughts are. I hear five different 100% OJ tracks playing at the same time, I hear all the character voices talking at the same time, and it’s like a slideshow in my head- the game is fast paced of course, that might have something to do with it, but it felt like games were just playing back in my memories on fast forward, all in a single instant. As well as thoughts about other things, personal things, creating things, the Christmas gift, it’s all so tightly wound in my subconscious going at a mile a minute.

It feels like my brain gets overstimulated, I guess is the best way to describe it. I still don’t know what causes it exactly- I’ve been playing OJ for three days, and the first two days were completely fine, but maybe lack of sleep had something to do with today. Maybe chocolate intake? I did increase my eating habits a bit, then lowered them a little bit, but from like no bars a day to four-five bars a day to 2-3 bars a day (by bars I mean those little bite sized bars).

And of course, then I just can’t think at all- Getting stressed while talking might also play a factor, maybe. Was stressing out a bit mentally, and by the time I hung up, I realized the headache was there. And then wanting to talk more via text, but not being able to articulate any thoughts, it’s weird and makes me feel bad. Feels like I blow people off when I have a migraine, but my head is genuinely just so stuffed that I can’t even think.

Which brings me to the creative thing I’ve been trying to think of.

I know the main flaw of mine is that I haven’t tried writing in a while. The kind of art I want to make is art with a story behind it, and I stopped thinking up stories. Today, an idea came into my head, a longer term art project, or series of small art projects I suppose. Of course, because my migraine, I just couldn’t think of anything at all but the migraine itself, there was no room for any creativity, and that was a bit saddening today.

But anyway, my idea- Mentioned how I’ve been inspired by that Diva aka twitter nun/duck artist lately, how they have so many detailed, daily pieces, each with their own story. I am not at that level. But if I could just think of small stories like that, to portray in pictures- Specifically with my console-tan designs. There are a lot of characters that can interact in a variety of ways, and there’s a lot of material to derive things from since they’re parodies of video game consoles.

Of course, I just actually need to sit down and think of these stories, write a bunch of random ideas, and just start doodling them. Maybe make it a weekly thing, or a “whenever I feel like it thing”, though most likely that means two or three pieces if that, and then dropping off and forgetting about it.

But I have essentially every Nintendo design made minus a few handheld variations, and all of the major 6th gen consoles essentially designed, so hm... I still should design a PSP/Vita, though, as well as Genesis/Saturn and 360/One. Newer consoles I like to wait a year on, but I feel PS5 has a very distinct look that I’d like to try to draw. I should do more research into the SG-1000 and Master System as well, and the Game Gear, and Nomad...

and anyway, I should do something with these designs and bounce personalities back and forth somehow

It’s 4AM, so I should start heading to bed, but that’s my ramble for the nightt

#text stuffs #nyrants

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chrisevansbabymama · 5 years ago

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Daddy Hair Care - Chapter 4.1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4.1 - American Boy:

It was 9:51pm when Kayla looked up as the semi-sheer curtains on her booth were drawn open and Chris hovered above her. She locked her iPhone screen, the gadget that had served as a good distraction and company as she waited for him and Lauren. Keith and Tiffany had opted out.

After sending Chris off to his press event, Lauren retreated back to her suite a few doors down to nap, whilst Kayla went back home. She could have napped, but she used the hour to get ready for the dinner. It may or may not have had something to do with making an effort for Chris. She consulted her best friends’ Amanda and Michelle’s help, who co-signed that she should look “casually sexy,” like she wasn’t even trying to make an effort. So she settled for a no make-up, make-up look but with a bold lip. Her lips were her favourite feature. Then she wore high-waisted mom jeans that accentuated her butt (another one of her favourite features), completed with a roll-neck and satin heels.

But Chris had turned up on his own and still wearing the four-digit expensive suit from the event. He looked just as dreamy as he did when he left his suite earlier.

“Hey,” she greeted, taking him in as he slid in the booth opposite her.

His cologne wafted the small space. She breathed him in.

“Hey London,” he said and slid off his coat.

“Hollywood,” she shot back before chuckling at her nickname, “You haven’t called me that in a while,”

“I forgot I even used to call you that,” he smiled and then eyed her drink. “Have you guys ordered - where’s Lauren?”

“I thought she was coming with you?” Kayla explained, only to be met with his perplexed expression. “She told me she was running late and was going to

wait for you to come back to the hotel to change, and then you’d come together,”

“No,” he said slowly, recalling his conversation with her earlier. “I spoke to her when I was leaving the event just twenty minutes ago and she said she was already here with you,”

Even more confused by the mismatching narrative, Chris chewed on his bottom lip, deep in contemplation. This wasn’t like Lauren to lie. But she had said she was tired and wanted to spend the evening and all weekend in bed, before she came up with the plan to go out for dinner.

Kayla noticed his face change as if he suddenly had an epiphany; he shook his head in disbelief.

“What?”

“Seb,” he muttered, concluding quickly.

Kayla’s eyebrows knit together, now just as confused as he was.

“I bet she’s with him,” Chris said confidently with a nod.

But that didn’t make sense to Kayla; why wouldn’t Lauren tell Chris the truth if that was the case? And why did she lie to her and insist that she was coming out for dinner? But she shook her head, dismissing the thought. They were not best friends, so Lauren didn’t owe her an explanation about her private life; Chris perhaps, not her. And she supposed it made sense that she was lying if she was sneaking around with Seb.

But Kayla immediately had her own epiphany; that she was going to be spending the evening alone with Chris. She suddenly felt sick. Of course she’d been in his company, alone, on multiple occasions when Lauren had slipped out of the dressing room or his hotel suite to return his loaned suits, or grab a coffee.

But never like this, never in an intimate setting where she wasn’t working and had that to distract her. All of a sudden being up close to his face on a daily basis wasn’t as intimidating as this scenerio. She actually felt bad for Chris. He was the one getting the short end of the stick and now stuck with her, she bet he probably preferred to be in his suite with room service instead of this.

“Shall we call her?”

“Hmm, maybe not,” Chris replied quickly. “Probably best to leave her to it,”

“I’m sorry,”

“For what?”

“You’re stuck with me,” she shrugged, she lowered her posture. “Rain check? We can rearrange it for another time with everyone else?”

He paused, scrutinising her concernedly, “Why? You tired? I mean, I’m hungry and I could really eat so I’d prefer not to turn this down,”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this since we talked about it at the hotel,” Chris reached for the menu. “You scared of being alone with me without your crutch, Lauren?”

“Oh shut up,” she huffed, her posture straightened back up without much thought.

“Just me and you London,”

And just like that, she felt normal around him again.

“How was the event?” she finally asked to break the silence as he studied the menu.

He sighed and gave her a look, that although she wasn’t Lauren - who was an expert at reading him, she understood this look: just…don’t.

“That bad?”

“I just hate those events, I knew no one. Y’just kinda stand around and mingle with a champagne in hand and pop a canapé here and there, and keep smiling for the cameras. It was a recipe for an anxiety attack,” he rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t wait to leave, at least I had this to look forward to,”

Had been looking forward to this as much as she had? Was he counting down the minutes, like she had been too?

“And as usual, every journalist was asking me about my Cap diet,” he rolled his eyes. “That’s all they know to talk about,”

“Like you’re some piece of meat,” Kayla offered to lighten up the mood, after noticing how distressed he was getting.

And it worked, he was startled at first but then a grin marked his features, letting her know that he was okay with the sparring. But that precipitated the nerves again for her; she could handle him, but usually that had been with Lauren in the audience. On her own, she felt cornered like he would see through her jokes.

“Like some piece of meat,” he echoed and then his voice went up an octave as he feigned pain in a playful voice. “I am more than my looks, I’m someone’s son and I’m a daddy,”

A daddy...she mused.

Kayla looked down to hide the smile threatening to light up her features. She needed to get out of her own head if she was going to survive this evening with him. As that realisation hit her again, coming to her in waves, her heart

thudded and she glanced at her phone. If only she could tell her friends that she was now out alone with him. But there was no way she could pick up the gadget surreptitiously and not only because it was rude, but her palms were a sweaty mess.

“I’m going to treat myself tonight, London. I’m going all out, what’s the greasiest option here?” he gave her a determined look. “Let’s give them a different variation of Cap’s body and see what they will ask me,”

“I’d recommend the tempura options if you really want to suck it to them, otherwise there’s not much grease here,” Kayla pointed out, receiving a child-like groan from the man across the table.

He grumbled, scanning the menu quickly to confirm that nothing else on there was going to satiate his appetite. The second he left the press event he had decided that it was going to be a cheat night; but he wasn’t going to find his pleasure in a sushi restaurant.

“Wanna go somewhere else?”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I’ve already made you wait all this time-“

“It’s okay. I would love a proper meal too, since someone’s made me wait this long to eat,”

“Sorry,” Chris said sheepishly, catching the playful shot at him for making her wait.

“C’mon Hollywood,” she wiggled her eyebrows. “I know a place,”

________

“This is everything I didn’t even know I needed,” Chris groaned with a mouthful of food.

It was a short while later when the two found themselves tucked away in the back of a darkly lit unassuming Lower East Side eatery. As her go-to for comfort food, Kayla thought it was ideal spot for Chris hide away. The sushi restaurant scene was almost too similar to the crowd he had left at the magazine party; dressed up, well-heeled, mini dresses and cleavage, suits and perfume drenched guests everywhere, with sake on the drinks menu.

Despite being overdressed for this crowd, they felt more relaxed. At the eatery, there were distressed jeans, sneakers, thick layered outfits to combat the cold, and drinks on the menu with names like Freaky Friday and OMG! They Killed Henny. Chris was tickled and he’d giggled at the names for longer than they warranted. But Kayla didn’t mind, she appreciated his sense of humour and that he didn’t take things too seriously.

“I could so eat this every day,” she told him wearing a look of adoration; happy to be eating at long last.

“I’m impressed, London. The concept always seemed bizarre to me, but this is golden,” he reached for syrup and drizzled it all over his waffles until they were swimming in the saccharine liquid.

Kayla felt all giddy at impressing Chris. She loved their little sparring matches and quips, but when he was complimentary, it gave her confidence that he took her seriously. She wasn’t just there for some comic relief.

“Is this really your first time trying chicken and waffles or are you trying to be cute?”

“Believe me, it is and I’m not proud of it,”

“Wow, I’m disappointed Evans,” she meant it.

“I don’t get out much, and I’m not allowed to eat this stuff,”

“You sound like a kid! Surely you have cheat days?”

“Usually it’s pizza, nachos, ice cream and beer. I’m a creature of habit,” he shrugged, shoving his face with another bite. “A simple guy,”

“I just thought chicken and waffles was simple? Isn’t it the most basic combo -the American equivalent to fish and chips?” she commented. “I bet you don’t cook. Do you cook?”

“Do I cook? Of course I cook,” he gave her a ridiculous look.

“Hey,” she looked at him pointedly. “I could have asked you what your Cap diet consists of,”

He deadpanned, “Yeah, touché,”

“Okay, so what do you cook, what’s your knockout meal? I gotta warn you, my standards are low,”

“I can knock a tagine out the park…pesto eggs…I make mean pesto eggs,”

“I don’t believe it,”

He shrugged, “Not really fair if I can’t prove myself without a kitchen,”

“True,”

“What’s your ‘knockout’ meal?”

“I make a good pad thai, and I bake a lot too,”

“I don’t believe it,” he mocked her with a lopsided grin. “Prove it,”

“Unlike some people,” she coughed a ‘you’ under her breath. “Some of us are normal and don’t live in hotels, so I actually can prove it,”

He looked at her, shocked at the low blow. She flinched at the expression, realising how insensitive she came across.

“Chris, I’m so sorry, that was so insensitive,”

“It was,” he pointed a look at her, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth put her at ease; he hadn’t taken offence. “You owe me, now you have to cook for me,”

Caught off-guard by his flirty remark, she became shy; imagining the domesticity of his proposal. It was something that had always occupied her imagines and thoughts on a few too many occasions.

Chris blushed. It was almost visible, his face had turned a soft pink hue as he also imagined it: watching her taking charge of the kitchen to cook for him. He was certain that she was a good cook. Lucky for him, the dim lighting had obscured just how bashful he was.

“I’ll help you, of course, because otherwise that’s just sexist of me to demand you to cook for me,” he corrected.

Everyone inch of Kayla’s feminist inhibition wanted to say ‘damn right,’ but the sexiness of this entire scenerio crippled her.

Patriarchy 1 - 0 Kayla.

“You seem very convinced that it’s going to happen,”

“Speaking it into existence,” he imitated her mantra with a wink that she didn’t know what to do with.

So really if she played her cards right, she could have Chris Evans in her home? And cook for him?

“We’ll see,” she said casually, but deep inside she was screaming.

“Don’t you feel sorry for me? I eat out of take out boxes, or room service. I miss a good home-cooked meal,”

“That hardly seems like a nightmare,”

“You’re lucky I’m not travelling for the Infinity War press tour. I’d love to take you with me and see how you survive out of your territory,”

To him it was a careless and empty threat, but to Kayla, she hung onto the fact that he had even considered her as an option.

“You’re just showing off because New York is your territory,” he continued.

“Hardly! London’s my territory,” she laughed at how worked up he was getting. “So what’s brought you out tonight if eating out isn’t your favourite thing to do? You’re usually one to hide away indoors?”

“Seb’s been bothering me to get out more and ‘put myself out there’ to start dating again, I kinda ignored him until my ma said the exact same thing,” he sat back. “Which clearly means that I have a boring life. If I’m not with Mya or Dodger, I’m either napping or working,”

“So your tactic to live a carefree life is to hide at the very back of a hidden restaurant, stuff your face with waffles drenched in syrup?”

“It’s a good start, baby steps,” he considered, before they both started laughing.

Kayla considered what he meant by ‘putting himself out there,’ had he been reserving himself all along? She wondered how long he’d take to make a move on her if he liked her. Then she felt ridiculous for even thinking it possible, Chris was clearly the type that made a move if he liked someone. Judging by his lifestyle and age; being a dad and all, with a career going for him, he didn’t seem like the type to waste time. He had that sexy and mature ‘I know what I want and I get what I want’ aura about him.

So why hadn’t he made his move, if he liked her as much as Lauren proposed?

“As the singles on Team Chris Evans, me and you should make a pact,” he lifted his glass and nodded at hers. She mirrored him. “From now on, we are going to make time and put ourselves out there,”

It wasn’t a secret that she was single, but she’d never had a conversation with him for him to know that she was. Something about the way he made that assumption bothered her. Was she that unappealing that it was obvious she was single?

She didn’t call him out on his (albeit correct) assumption though, she clinked her glass against his as he made a toast to being single ‘but ready to mingle.’ Really, the playing field wasn’t levelled; if he wanted, he could be in a relationship tomorrow. He had a queue of women around the world ready to say yes to him.

But she smiled and pretended it was okay, like she knew to.

Like she always did.

Like she always had to.

Chris downed the last of his beverage and sat back again, satisfied. A food coma was imminent, so he stifled a yawn and stretched. Even then, it was a sight for Kayla, it wasn’t even the way his muscles contracted and wrestled with his dress shirt. He just looked so soft and needy. In need of a cuddle, she concluded. The man could just breathe and that was enough for her to lose her senses.

“Long day,” Kayla said sympathetically.

“Man, you have no idea,”

“Let’s get the check,”

“I don’t wanna go home, well, back to the hotel. I’ll just sleep,” he frowned.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

He looked at her incredulously, “No! It’s a Friday night, putting myself out there and being carefree, remember?”

Kayla thought, “Okay, you can walk me home, that’ll kill sometime,”

“It’s cold,”

“Hence why we’re walking, it’ll keep us warm. I live five minutes from here,”

“That’s not really how the science works,” he stated. She gave him a blank look. He groaned, “A car is better and warm, there is heating,”

“This is so Hollywood of you, Evans. I doubt you’ll meet the woman of your dreams when you’re tucked away in the back of an Uber. Put yourself out there,” she pepped him. “What if you get cold? Carefree, remember?”

What if the woman of my dreams is already there with me? Chris smiled, failing to hide it; Kayla thought her pep-talk was resonating with him.

Chris resigned, “This is so London of you. You’re used to your crappy weather, you can shoulder the cold,”

“You’re so Hollywood, I’m in heels and I’m not complaining,” she pierced her eyes at him. “But you’re all, ‘I’m Chris, I’m from LA where it’s always hot, and I don’t walk anywhere because I have personal chauffeurs-“

“Fine, we are going to walk,” he said determined to show how normal he was.

“Before we go,” she bit her bottom lip nervously, realising he wasn’t putting up a fight anymore. “I kinda lied, it’s more like a fifteen minute walk,”

“Okay, if I’m bearing the cold to get you home, you’re cooking for me next time. I mean that,”

“Deal, and relax, it’s not even that cold,”

Chapter 4.2

_________

Disclaimer: Gif Not My Own

Tags: @mississippifangirl @thinemineours @tessathedragon @thottio @caninoona @eratotalles @allonszassbutt @thinemineours @dreamingwithmendes @void-imaginations @daybreak96 @l-auteuse @cliffordasparagus @bumber-car-s @lvlyab @melaninmarvel @milkymil-k

#Chris Evans #chris evans gif #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #Chris Evans fanfic #Chris fan fic #Chris Evans imagine #Daddy Hair Care #Chris Evans fic #sebastian stan #Sebastian Stan imagine #Sebastian Stan fan fic #Sebastian Stan fanfic #Sebastian Stan fanfiction #chris evans x black reader #Chris Evans x woc #daddy chris evans #Chris Evans daddy

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violetsmoak · 5 years ago

Text

Pieces of April [16/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Author’s Note: Here’s your daily dose of JayTim and baby for your quarantine reading pleasure! Stay safe, wash your hands and support your local healthcare, waste management and retail workers!

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

The rest of the afternoon is spent on the phone, fielding calls from various departments and sorting out production complications. Interspersed are texts and Facebook messages from friends and family—Dick, wondering if dinner is still happening on Friday, Bruce wanting updates on the mob case, the Titans wanting to know if he’s coming to San Francisco that weekend—

Tim is evasive with all except the last one, informing Bart that there’s some family drama going on that will keep him home for a while. Once the speedster knows, everyone else will know, so it’s about as effective as sending a group text.

He resists the urge to phone Jason and see how he’s doing; he’s rather sure he won’t pick up.

(“I ain’t a damn kid that needs checkin’ up on, Drake.”)

Not that Tim is checking up on him. He just knows that whenever someone in the family is going through a personal crisis, that’s usually the time when Gotham’s rogues decide to act out.

So really, ensuring Jason’s stress levels stay manageable is a public service.

“Because that sounds like logic,” he chides.

Damian shows up around 3 o’clock and spends the next two hours alternatively disparaging everything about Tim from his too-long hair to how he organizes his filing system, to discussing WE resource allocation for an animal shelter he wants to open. The conversational whiplash is enough to make Tim’s head spin, and he makes a note in his phone to talk to Bruce about whatever it is that’s going on between them that’s so bad Damian prefers Tim’s company to his father’s.

Either Bruce put his foot down about another of Damian’s strays, or he still won’t agree that Robin should have a private prison to lock up rogues.

Whatever the reason, Tim is very much out of his depth at the youngest Bat’s newest tactics for taking his frustrations out on Tim.

Though I guess workplace inconveniences are a huge step up from swords to the gut. Could always be worse, I guess.

It turns out he’s not the only one learning new and interesting coping strategies. Upon arriving home at six, he finds Jason tweaking the tech in his gear on the kitchen table, baby carrier three feet away.

His entire body is tense, like a spring ready to snap.

“Was she up all day or something?” Tim asks on the way in, putting his bag on the floor and loosening his tie.

Jason shoots him a baleful look. “She’s been crying all day. And she’s still barely eating. I think she’s starting to look a little yellow—Tim, why is she yellow?”

And Jason sounds—dare he say it—almost frazzled.

Right. Time for more damage control.

“I’ve got her,” Tim says, easing into Jason’s personal space and taking the baby. “You go to sleep. Or shower. Or watch TV or something. You’re starting to go batty.”

That earns a disgusted look, and even Tim winces because that was just bad.

“Did you seriously just say that?” Jason asks.

“No, you’re sleep-deprived and hallucinated it,” he replies.

“I’ll allow it,” Jason says, yawning. “But only because it could be true.”

Jason shuffles off upstairs and Tim heaves himself onto the couch, pulling out his phone to check his usual online haunts for potential cases or clues for his current case. Social media and forums are pretty good sources once you learn how to weed out the sensationalist crap.

After thirty minutes of nothing, he gives it up and wanders over to the dwindling pile of baby items. Jason hasn’t returned yet, so he’s either passed out from exhaustion in the shower or actually made it to bed. Since Tim can’t hear the water running, he supposes it’s the latter.

It won’t kill me to go without the pre-patrol nap today, I guess.

Studying the pile, he notes that the boxes with the crib, changing table and whatever else needed assembly, have all gone missing. Presumably, Jason set those up this morning in a fit of boredom or paranoia.

The only things that haven’t been touched are the blankets, soft toys and garments, other than whatever Isa’s been changed into already.

There are only about twenty different pieces of clothing, and according to his not-so-new best friend the Internet, that’s not going to be nearly enough given infant propensity to upchuck. Especially since it’s not all the same size. Tam had to guess how big Isa was, so at least half the onesies here won’t fit her for another month or two, which isn’t supremely helpful for right now.

Back to fiddling with his phone, Tim goes online to order some more supplies and discovers, to his delight, that there’s an entire line of pop-culture related babywear. Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who, Superhero logos…

He grins as he orders one of everything for next-day delivery, wondering whether Jason’s more likely to complain or find it funny.

Under normal circumstances, he’d probably find it funny. For someone else’s kid.

There’s still no sign of Jason after sunset, so Tim feeds and burps the baby, then sets up his laptop and tablet in the kitchen to check some of his surveillance feeds for the mob case. However, Isa protests every time he tries to put her down.

“What’s wrong with you now?” he asks. “You’re warm, you’re fed—” He takes a pause to check and change her diaper, during which time she continues to mewl at him, “—and you’re dry. Which means now’s the time you got to sleep, okay? New babies are supposed to do three things: eat, poop and sleep. So get on that.”

Once again he attempts to wrap her up and place her in her carrier, but the whimpering becomes flat-out crying, her tiny face becoming purple with rage and her eyes pinching shut.

“Okay, okay—putting you down is a no,” he sighs, tucking her back in his arms to rock her gently. He watches his computer monitor balefully, knowing if he’s holding the baby, there’s not going to be any hacking of Gotham’s CCTV tonight.

Could text Babs and ask her to do it. Except then she’ll want to know why.

Which is also a no.

One-handed, he searches out his phone again, looking up possible reasons for Isa’s current temper and potential solutions online. One thing jumps out at him and he brightens. A quick trip to the Nest and back, and he has what he was looking for.

Which is how Jason finds him when he finally comes back downstairs around eight o’clock, showered, rested and altogether more human-looking than what Tim came home to. He pauses at the foot of the stairs, squinting at Tim. “Is that your cape?”

“My cape is made out of state-of-the-art piezoelectric fabric substrates that can become a weapon with the right electrical frequency,” Tim retorts, trying not to feel entirely self-conscious from his seat at the kitchen table, wrapped in a makeshift mei-tai with Jason’s daughter drooling into his chest. “Also, that thing’s filthy.”

“And this is…?”

“My old cape,” Tim replies, going back to his computer. “Sometimes newborns just need to hear a heartbeat to calm them down. The best way is skin to skin, but I’m kind of in the middle of something, so this is the next best thing.”

Jason tilts his head to one side in consideration. “That’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I looked it up online.”

“Of course you did,” Jason groans, rubbing his temple. “Because that’s what normal people do. I didn’t even think of it, I was too busy trying to get her to stop crying.” He huffs, almost rueful. “Why the hell am I surprised that you’re good at this? You’re good at friggen everything.”

Huh. A compliment. Those are almost as rare coming from Jason as they are from Damian. He must really be out of his comfort zone.

“Maybe it’s just because I have a certain measure of distance from it all,” Tim suggests, standing up to leave his temporary workstation. “If I suddenly found out I had a kid, I don’t know how I’d react.”

“Bull. You’re just like B. You’d just stick it in the back of your mind and forget about how to feel about it until you’re ready to deal.”

Tim feels a sudden flare of anger. “Is that actually how you think I am?”

“You going to tell me you’re not?” Jason challenges.

Tim opens his mouth to do exactly that, only to wrinkle his nose at the sudden stench arising from the lump of baby tucked against his chest.

“Ugh. Someone needs a change.”

Again. Guess I wasn’t so far off about the ‘eat, poop and sleep’ thing.

Jason snorts. “As far as conversation enders, that’s a pretty good one.”

Tim carefully unwinds the fabric from around his body and deposits the slowly waking baby into her father’s arms. “Tag.”

“You suck.”

“Serves you right for being a dick.”

He feels almost no guilt leaving Jason to deal with the soiled diaper and cranky baby this time, still smarting a bit about the resentful accusation that was lobbed at him.

Just because I can compartmentalize doesn’t mean I forget about things. Or that I don’t feel them.

He’s just not like Jason, or Dick, or Damian, who get angry and lash out as loudly and as viciously as they can. And he’s not like Bruce, either, since Bruce really can flip a switch and put something difficult out of his mind if it interferes with the all-important Mission.

Tim’s tried doing that, and as successful as he was in his quest to locate Batman when he was lost in the time stream, that period of Tim’s life was the most desperate and hopeless he’s ever felt. It was painful in a way that was different from losing his father, or Connor, or Bart—mostly because he was forced to bottle everything up to get the job done.

It was months after Bruce returned before Tim started processing things normally again.

Not that I should expect Jason to know that, he muses as he grapples through the rooftops of Gotham. He might know about me from my files and when we occasionally work together, but he’s never stuck around long enough to get to know anyone who came after him.

The night is at its darkest, cut through only by the Bat-signal in the distance. He won’t be running into Bruce tonight then unless the GCPD is bringing him in on the Gazzo case. It’s unlikely since there hasn’t been any retaliation yet. GCPD protocol dictates they’ll pass it off to Homicide until orders from on high turn it over to Major Crimes.

Red Robin ends up stopping two muggings and a drug deal before making his way to Gazzo territory to take some surveillance photos of his own. Security images are helpful in general, but he has camera tech that will let him focus on details the CCTV won’t pick up.

It’s another relatively early night for him, returning home just after midnight to upload his findings to the servers and shower off the grit and grime of the city.

The apartment is silent, and he expects Jason and Isa to be upstairs in the newly built nursery, but upon closing the secret door again, he notices the faint sound of breathing. Creeping over to the sitting room, he finds Jason passed out on the couch beside Isa’s carrier. The television is on but not showing any channel, instead casting a solid blue light across the room.

Tim can’t help noticing how Jason’s habitual frown has eased in slumber. There’s no trace of a sneer or growl on his lips right now, his mouth parted only to breathe.

He has never seen the older man like this.

There are pictures of him at the manor, of course, most of them hidden away in dusty boxes. It’s only recently they’ve started cropping up at the manor again, though Tim isn’t sure whether it’s Dick or Alfred that’s been putting them there.

Hell, maybe it is Bruce. It’s the exact kind of gesture he’d make to try to tell Jason he wants him around more, without actually having to tell him directly.

Whoever’s responsible for them, Tim’s memorized all of those photos. The boy in those is always grinning or making silly faces or not paying attention to the photographer because he’s busy doing something he shouldn’t be.

If there’s a picture of Jason looking so calm and peaceful, it’s hidden away in Bruce’s personal files where no one can find them.

Tim can sort of see why given how vulnerable his predecessor looks right now. This is the Jason that Bruce remembers, the one he’s built up in his memory that’s different from the Jason once enshrined in the much-maligned class case in the Cave. This is the Jason Bruce is trying to find whenever he squares off with Red Hood and mourns as lost when he can’t find him.

Which is stupid since he’s still right here. I wonder if anyone else will ever realize that?

Tim decides not to wake Jason; he might have been a jerk before, but he should sleep while he can.

Instead, he settles in on the other couch with his laptop to review the surveillance shots he took himself and from the security feeds. If he can figure out just which of these mobster muscle heads is the easiest to break, he can get a better idea of what might have happened to the teenager in concrete.

I’ll just do a quick scan tonight, and study them in more detail tomorrow.

Of course, as usual, he gets invested in his work and doesn’t look up again until about four o’clock, when Isa’s sharp cry pieces the silence. Tim jumps, having completely forgotten her presence, but that’s nothing on Jason, who vaults upward from his spot on the couch, body tense and prepared to react to whatever caused the noise, friend or foe.

His hand is already reaching for a gun—one that Tim is thankful to see is no longer there.

“It’s okay, it’s just time for the next feeding,” he says quietly, trying to sound both casual and soothing at the same time. Based on the bleary look he’s getting from Jason, he’s less than successful.

Jason glares at his empty hand, clenched as if to hold onto something, and Tim must be on the verge of falling asleep himself because for a moment he imagines he can see the outline of a sword.

Great. Hallucinations. Tomorrow’s going to be a triple-shot of espresso day, I can tell.

And it’s suddenly occurring to him that babies and their sudden loud noise-making skills might not be the best thing for someone that’s suffered the kinds of trauma Jason has.

He makes up a mental note to look up some strategies for that. He’s not quite sure how he’ll bring up the subject with Jason. While Jason is adamant that Tim’s the most like Bruce, when it comes to avoiding problems, he’s the one that has more in common with the man.

For now, he decides to just act as normal.

“You know there’s a perfectly good bed upstairs?” he quips. “Thousand thread count, fluffy pillows, solid mattress…”

“Shut up. I was watching something. Guess I fell asleep.” Jason swings around and makes a move toward the baby, but Tim makes a motion to stop him.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it.”

“You already took her when you got back.”

“How do you know? You were sleeping?”

“I was resting my eyes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Go to sleep or you’ll be face-planting in your coffee tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine, I—"

“This isn’t your responsibility, Replacement. Go to bed—I’ll handle this.”

Jason is clearly not someone to be reasoned with when sleep-deprived; Tim always suspected that, of course, but he’s never had the up-close-and-personal experience. It doesn’t make him any less frustrated.

“The whole point of you staying here is for me to help,” he reminds him. “So would you just accept it already?”

“You’re also the one with a nine-to-five job and actually need the friggen sleep.”

Tim grimaces. “Fine. But I’m going to make up a schedule for us tomorrow so we can divide the babysitting more equitably.”

“You do that, boy scout. Why don’t you make a chore-wheel while you’re at it?” Jason jeers, taking the baby and heading for the kitchen. “This isn’t kindergarten.”

“Are you sure about that?” Tim shoots back, scowling in frustration.

Just for that, I will make one. See if I don’t.

⁂⁂⁂

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