#it's a trial hire for a few weeks so they see if i can handle it but aaaaaa!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

semisgroupie · 3 years ago

Text

unethical techniques

scumbag lawyer!gin ichimaru x lawyer!fem. reader (ft. serial killer!aizen)

word count: 7.0k

warnings: noncon drugging, blackmail, noncon recording, aphrodisiac use, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, public sex, fingering (f! receiving), mentions of murder, use of legal jargon, consumption of alcohol, spit, praise, reader is called sweetheart

synopsis: never wander into the lion’s den, you’ll never like what’s inside

a/n: this is for my love and my heart @maitaro’s FAME collab! Please check out the other amazing works and thank you so much for letting me join! And this fic takes the cake for being my longest fic!!

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ THIS FIC I DO NOT CONDONE OR APPROVE OF THIS BEHAVIOR THIS IS SOLELY A FICTIONAL PIECE AGAIN PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS THOROUGHLY BEFORE READING THIS FIC

You always wondered how Gin Ichimaru was able to have such a high success rate with cases. Even against the best prosecutors he would come out on top. Hell, his client could confess on the witness stand and he’d still win the case. It didn’t make sense to you, it never made sense. You even hired private investigators to sit in during the trials you couldn’t attend and hired them to follow him around and they would come back with nothing. Then when you would sit in during his trials you couldn’t pinpoint his technique, you just saw it as weird. But whenever he made eye contact with you or just looked in your direction you felt a chill run down your spine. It was all unusual and you just couldn’t figure it out from just being a viewer.

So, when you were given a case that he was involved in you saw it as a way to finally have all your questions answered.

You looked through all the documents of the case and you grew horrified at the gory details. You’ve handled murderers and serial killers before but this one gave you the creeps. Then it really bothered you when you saw his photo, he looked like a normal guy, like a guy you’ve passed by on the street hundreds of times. But of course Gin would be his lawyer, scum attracts scum.

Over the course of a couple of weeks you set up meetings with all the detectives working on the case and wrote up a list of possible witnesses you could use during the trial. You met with some of the family members of the victims and after 3 weeks of interviews and meetings it finally came to the day where you would meet the defendant and his attorney. You had to drive to the maximum security prison where he was currently housed since his bail was remanded due to the nature of his crimes and since he posed a high risk of reoffending if bail was set.

You sighed as you parked in front of the maximum security prison, you’ve been here quite a few times over the course of your short career but as you got out of your car and walked to the entrance you felt a cold chill run down your spine. You opened the door and clutched your briefcase tighter as you walked to the security check. You greeted the correction officer there and set everything down on the conveyor belt.

“Hello Miss L/N, who are you here to see today? And if you just came to see me you could just call, I could show you that I can dress up fancy too.” You laughed at his words and shook your head. He was a nice older man that had always kept a close eye on you whenever you came to visit an inmate and always had chocolates to give you once you were done with your visits. It’s been three years since you first met him and he had shown you nothing but kindness and always found a way to lighten your mood whether it was through harmless flirtatious comments or fatherly wisdom and advice.

“No, no Mr. Hiro. I wish I was here to visit you and what did I tell you about being so formal? Please just call me by my name. I’m here to visit Sosuke Aizen and his lawyer, they want to try to discuss a plea deal before the trial starts.” The normally crinkly eyed smile that was on Mr. Hiro’s face dropped once he heard the name fall from your lips and he grabbed your wrist to pull you close before you walked through the metal detector.

“Please drop this case or hand it down to another attorney in your office Y/N. That man is no good and neither is his snake of a lawyer. I’ve worked in this prison for 10 years and saw the worst of the worst but this guy is no joke, he’s the worst of them all. Please, just turn back now and forget all about this case. Nothing good is bound to happen.” Worry oozed through his words and your eyes widened. Was this man really that bad?

“Don’t worry Mr. Hiro, I’ll be fine. I have spoken to some of the families of the victims and they are putting all their trust in me to put this asshole in the electric chair, I have to do it. I’m the only one in my office with an almost perfect win record. If I feel threatened or endangered in any way I promise I will drop this case and hand it to one of my colleagues.” You placed your hand over his and gently squeezed it as a form of reassurance but he just shook his head and let go of your wrist.

“Just please be careful, you’re like a daughter to me and I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you.” You hugged him tightly and nodded before going through the metal detector and heading to the security desk to get your visitor’s pass. Your heels clicked against the floor as you made your way to the elevator and once you reached the floor where the room for the meeting was located you felt the chill run up your spine again. You shook off any nerves and you made your way to the room. Once you reached it you saw two large corrections officers standing on each side of the door and you nodded at them and took out your identification.

“Hello, I’m the state attorney for this case. Is the prisoner inside?”

One of the men nodded and pointed to the window, “his lawyer is inside too.”

You walked over to the one way mirror and saw both men. One with brown hair and wore a blue prison jumpsuit, signaling to you that he was a dangerous felon and the man next to him was someone you easily recognized. Gin Ichimaru. His silver hair was pushed back neatly and he wore a suit that was extremely expensive. You sighed as you looked at them then made your way back to the door.

“The inmate is handcuffed to the table and once you are done just knock on the door or window twice and we’ll let you out, we’ll keep a close eye on you while you are inside just in case he tries to become violent.” With that one of the officers opened the door and you made your way inside.

“Good morning gentlemen, my name is Y/N L/N and I am the prosecutor assigned to this case. I am here because you and your attorney would like to make a plea deal” you sat down in the chair across from the two men and you burned under their gazes. You set your briefcase on the table and opened it up to take out the file you had and opened it up. “Mr. Aizen, you are on trial for twelve counts of capital murder, thirteen counts of kidnapping, one count of attempted murder, twelve counts of abuse of a corpse and one count of resisting arrest. With all these charges you will most likely be sentenced to death, what would you like to discuss?”

You closed the file and looked at the two men, your gaze fell on Gin. Was he smiling? The sight of the smile on his face repulsed you and as he leaned forward you moved back a bit. “Well my client has already confessed to the murders and shown police where all the bodies are so with all his cooperation I’m thinking we should lower the sentence to 25 years in prison with the possibility of parole after 5.”

Your eyes widened and you scoffed at his words, “I’m sorry but is this a joke? You want your client to receive the sentence that is the equivalent to second or third degree murder? That’s just absurd, your client brutally murdered twelve people and would have murdered more if his thirteenth potential victim didn’t escape. He’s a threat to society.”

Aizen shook his head and rested his hands on the table. “We all make mistakes ma’am, I just made mine too many times in a row. I don’t deserve to die, I know what I did was wrong and I am sorry for what happened.”

You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth and how Gin sat next to him with a smile on his face. How could he believe those words? How much was Aizen paying him? You stood up and placed your card on the table, handing it to Gin. As his fingers brushed against your hand you felt like your skin was burning under his touch and quickly moved it back. “When you’re serious about a plea deal, call me.”

You grabbed your briefcase and walked to the door, knocking on it twice. As you exited the room you could’ve sworn you heard Gin and his client whispering to each other and snickering but you just shook it off and made your way to the elevator. Just as the elevator opened you felt someone standing next to you so you looked to your left side and saw Gin standing there. That same grin was plastered on his face.

“Have I met you before this? You seem very familiar.” You walked into the elevator with him and stood at one of the back corners while he pressed the button to the first level and then moved to the back of the elevator with you.

“No, this is the first time I’ve been assigned as opposing counsel to a case you’re involved in but I have attended some of the trials of my colleagues when you were the defense. You have quite an impressive record, no losses.”

He nodded and moved closer to you, almost towering over you. “Wanna know the secret?” Without waiting for an answer from you he leaned down until his mouth was at your ear, “I always get what I want and I stop at no bounds to get it.” Your eyes widened and goosebumps rose along your skin and before you could react the elevator reached your floor. Gin backed away and looked back at you with that vile grin, “hope you continue to bring your A-game for trial, I love a challenge and you seem like the most difficult puzzle I’ve come across in years.” He walked out and you were left frozen in your place.

After a few deep breaths you quickly walked out of the elevator and walked to the parking lot so you could drive back to the office and gather yourself. It was probably some stupid tactic to psyche you out and throw you off but you weren’t going to let that stop you and you definitely weren’t going to forget what he told you, the words still ruminating in the back of your mind. “Always gets what he wants, fucking weirdo.” You shook it off and drove back to your office to somewhat prepare yourself for the next grueling weeks before trial.

After weeks of interviews, investigation, pointless plea deal requests and trial prep it was finally the day of the beginning of the trial. You could barely sleep the night before, something you just noted as pre-trial jitters. Then as the trial began you were completely unsure of what possible tricks Gin could have up his sleeve, his opening statement sounded like it was whipped up last minute, during his cross examination of your witnesses he didn’t even ask any relevant questions or questions that could make the jury question the witness’ credibility.

Everything was easy for some odd reason, when his witnesses took the stand you easily shred their credibility to pieces when it came to your cross examination. You were positive that you were going to win the case and send Sosuke to death row.

And still after every day of trial he had that smirk on his face, like there was something he should be proud of. It baffled you, why was he smirking and smiling all the damn time? You had to find out, so when Gin offered to discuss another plea deal over drinks you jumped at the opportunity. You just had to find out what tricks he had up his sleeve.

After he gave you the paper you went home, freshened up and made your way back to your car with the paper in hand. You glanced at the paper he had given you, an address written messily on the torn paper and furrowed your eyebrows. It didn’t seem like a bar you went to before but you just shrugged it off and put the address in your gps and followed the directions. It wasn’t a long drive from your condominium and your eyes widened once you parked in front of the building.

A luxury building, one of the most expensive luxury buildings in town. You got out of your car and fixed the skirt of your dress and made your way inside the building. The concierge took your name then led you to an elevator that would go straight to where you were meeting Gin and once you were inside you felt the nerves in your stomach.

Your boss had always warned you about meeting another attorney in such a private setting and it only intensified when one of your coworkers mixed business with pleasure during a meeting and got their case thrown out.

Once the elevator stopped and the doors opened you stepped out into the penthouse apartment. You took in all the expensive furniture, the beautiful view of the city, the shelf of expensive liquors and spirits as you stepped further inside. You looked over to see the door to the balcony open and you walked to it and peeked your head outside to see Gin leaning on the balustrade with a half empty glass in his hand. You took a few more steps out and caught his attention.

“Hello Miss Y/N, thank you for meeting me here. Come join me.”

You walked over to him and faced him as you leaned on the balustrade, keeping some distance between you two, “well I’m just here to listen to whatever deal you want to make, hopefully it’s not as ridiculous as the one you made when we first met.”

He laughed and shook his head as he took a step to close the distance. “All work no play I see. Well what would you like to drink? I would still like to be a good host while I have you here.”

“A scotch please and I hope you’re not a heavy handed pourer, I still need to drive back home.”

The smirk grew on his face as you told him your drink of choice. “Don’t you worry, I’m not heavy handed at all. I still want you to be coherent and please feel free to sit inside, it is getting a bit windy and it doesn’t seem like you brought a jacket. Come on.”

His hand rested on the small of your back as he followed you back inside. You took your seat on one of the plush couches and continued looking around the penthouse while he walked over and made your drinks. He glanced over at you and chuckled as he made your drink and refilled his.

“Like what you see? Maybe once you leave that crummy state attorney’s office, you can become a wealthy defense attorney.” He made his way over to you and handed you your drink, which to his delight you quickly took a sip and he sat on the opposite end of the couch from you.

“Maybe that is what I should do but I love sending people to prison too much and I could never imagine defending the monsters you defend.” You took another sip and shifted a bit so you could face him and your eyes quickly skimmed over his body. He wasn’t wearing one of those expensive suits he normally wore to court but his outfit was still fancy. He wore a burgundy button down satin shirt, with a few buttons popped open and black slacks with black dress shoes that look like they’ve never been worn before.

When you met his eyes it seemed like he was doing the same to you, making your cheeks burn as you didn’t wear something as fancy as him, just a simple black v-neck cocktail dress that you often wore to work whenever you didn’t have to go to court. You downed some more of your drink and leaned in a bit, “so what did you want to discuss?”

“Ah of course” he moved a bit closer but still kept his distance as he swirled the liquid around in his glass. “So I still think you should reconsider my most recent offer, 50 years with a minimum of 10 to 15 years. He’ll still go to jail but he won’t die, I think that’s a good deal.”

You scoffed and finished your drink and just before you could set it down on the coffee table Gin reached over and took the glass from you. “I’ll get you a refill, don’t worry I won’t put too much.”

You nodded and watched him walk to grab the scotch bottle before speaking. “That’s absurd, he murdered all those people Gin, even you must know that’s absurd. I could never accept a plea like that, the lowest I’ll go is life in prison without the possibility of parole. I’ll take the death penalty off the table.” You knit your eyebrows together and pinched the bridge of your nose as you felt something course through your body, you just had one little drink so it couldn’t have been any effects of drunkenness and you knew how you got when you drank so it would take a few more drinks to get you to even feel tipsy.

But this feeling was different, like there was a fire burning inside your body. You shifted in your seat, trying not to make it noticeable to Gin but it was too late, he handed you your drink and his classic smirk was plastered on his face as he reached a hand out to touch your shoulder. “Are you alright? Don’t tell me you can’t handle your liquor.”

You moved from his touch, as it felt like his fingers were going to burn through your skin and shook your head. “No I’m fine, I just need to stand outside. It’s getting warm here.” You stood up and made your way outside, it was like every single step you took this burning grew and traveled further south. You quickly made your way to the balustrade and leaned over it, gripping the glass tightly as you took deep breaths and downed everything in the glass. “What the fuck is going on?” You pressed your thighs together for some relief but it made the throbbing between your thighs worse. Your mind ran in circles trying to process what was going on with you but you couldn’t figure it out.

“Have you figured it out yet?” You looked over to find Gin standing extremely close to you, that damned smirk still on his face. “Have you figured out what’s going on with you yet or are you still clueless?” He lifted his hand and brought one finger up to drag it across your cheek and jaw, chuckling at the little whimper you let out. “Do you know what this burning sensation is coursing through your body? Do you know why your cunt is throbbing? Why you’re so sensitive to just the slightest touch?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him and shook your head. “What did you do to me, Gin? What the fuck did you put in my drink?”

He laughed as he made his way over to the outdoor sofa and you whined at the loss of his touch. He took out his phone and put it down on the glass table in front of him and looked up at you. “Come and I’ll tell you.” He patted the spot next to him and your body moved instinctively to him and filled the empty cushion. He placed his hand on your thigh and looked you in the eye. “I only did what had to be done sweetheart, remember when I was with you in the elevator after our first meeting? What did I tell you?”

Your mind was growing fuzzy just feeling his touch again and you couldn’t remember a thing. “I’ll remind you, I always get what I want and I stop at no bounds to get it.” He moved closer to you and his eyes scanned your face. “Do you know how difficult it is to get dirt on someone who has a squeaky clean record? Not even your exes have anything bad to say about you, you’re too fucking clean. There’s nothing else I could’ve done but this.”

Your breath hitched as his hand traveled higher and he moved to your ear, “you’re also so fucking naive, didn’t anyone tell you to keep your eyes on your drink when it gets poured for you? It was so fucking easy to slip my special little powder in and give it to you. So sweetheart, what I gave you was an aphrodisiac and the only way to get rid of all this burning and throbbing is me. I’m your only solution.”

You backed away and shook your head while your body was screaming at you. The amused look on his face never lifted as you muttered how it was unethical and how much trouble he would get in for what he did. “Won’t show up in drug tests silly girl, so you could deny it all you want and shake your head but I am the only one who can help you. You just need to say the words sweetheart, all you need to say is ‘please Gin, please help me. Please fuck me.’ It’s not that difficult. You could try to masturbate but that fire won’t quell quickly, it’ll probably take you one maybe two days to really satisfy yourself and we have court in two days. What are you going to tell judge Fujimoto? ‘Sorry your honor but I need to make myself cum for the rest of the day, can we postpone closing arguments and move the date to the end of the week?’ Just repeat what I told you and I’ll help you, then you can be nice and chipper for court.”

This was against every ethical principle you had and you cursed yourself, how could you do something so stupid and let him slip that into your drink? You glanced at him and sucked in a breath, this was how he did it. This is how he always won his cases, that fucking snake.

“And don’t get me confused with a piece of shit that uses drugs to get what he wants, sweetheart, I don’t drug every lawyer I go against. Normally the other ambitious prosecutors had some dirt, bribed their way to get their license, were abusive to their spouse, had a crippling gambling addiction, just other shit I could use against them but you my dear, are the first and will be the only person I drug. Now, what do you say?”

You let out a sigh, he was right. You couldn’t explain this to anyone and there was no way anyone else in your office could execute a closing statement like you could, you needed this. Sad to say, you needed him. “Please Gin, please help me. Please fuck me.”

Just as the words left your lips he pounced on you, caging you beneath him as he captured your lips in his. His hands roamed all over your body until it reached the hem of your dress and he hiked it up to your hips so his hands could explore where you needed him most. You normally would’ve felt embarrassed with how wet you are but right now you just needed some form of relief, you needed Gin to help you. He slipped your panties to the side while his tongue explored your mouth and he pushed two fingers inside your soaked heat. You gasped against his lips and pressed your chest against his as you broke the kiss.

He kissed down your neck and bit down as he started to pump his fingers. Every drag of his fingers, every press of his lips against your neck, every gentle nibble against your neck, every suck on the sensitive skin on your neck, every brush of his thumb against your clit was heightened and was more pleasurable. “So fucking beautiful, every single time I’ve seen you sitting in the gallery you’ve caught my eye. Then finally seeing you in action, fuck it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, even makes me feel a little bad for doing this.”

His murmurs against your neck became a second thought as the squelching of his fingers in your cunt grew louder as he sped up his motions. His thumb rubbed at your clit more furiously and his free hand groped and gripped your breasts through your dress. You wanted to feel him more, you wanted to feel him against your skin completely, you couldn’t even care about the cold air nipping at your skin. He slipped in a third finger and pressed them against your g spot as he thrusted them in. Your thighs shook and your body quivered while your moans grew louder.

“Gin! Gin fuck! I’m cumming!”

He continued pumping his fingers and pressed his lips against yours in a deep kiss that you could barely return as you couldn’t stop moaning his name. Once you stopped quivering around his digits he slipped them out and looked at them, the moonlight making them shine and he slipped them in his mouth, cleaning your cum off of them with a groan. “I think you might just be an aphrodisiac yourself.” He leaned down and gripped your cheeks so you could open your mouth and he spit on your tongue, the action mixed with the effects of the drug turning you on to no end.

You looked down at the bulge in his pants and licked your lips, just from the bulge you could see how thick and big his cock was. “Please fuck me Gin, I need your cock. I need you to fuck me.” You sat up a bit to undo his pants and he gently pushed you on your back and shook his head. “No no sweetheart, I’ll do all the work. By the time these drugs wear off I want the association between me and pleasure to be imprinted in your mind. I want you to look at me and press your thighs together subconsciously, got it?”

You nodded at his words and your attention quickly shifted from his eyes to his hands as they undid his pants and pulled his cock out. Your eyes widened at the sight, it was thick and long and the angry red tip was leaking precum. “Blink a little sweetheart, don’t tell me this is the biggest cock you’ve ever seen.” You bit your lip and spread your legs more, opting not to say anything since he already knew the truth. He spit on his cock and stroked his cock to lather his spit on it and he moved closer so he could drag his cock through your puffy folds. Up and down and each time he dragged his cock up, the tip of his cock brushed against your clit, making you whine and mewl.

“Please Gin, I’m wet enough. Just stop teasing me and just fuck me!” He chuckled, muttering something about your lack of patience before pushing his cock through your folds, splitting you in half on his cock. He continued pushing his cock inside you while getting a firm grip on your hips and one his grip was firm enough he slammed the rest of his cock inside you. “Fuck you’re tight! Like you’ve never been fucked before or is it that you haven’t been fucked properly yet? Don’t worry about answering sweetheart, just focus on how good I’m making you feel.”

He dug his fingers into the soft skin of your hips while he thrusted into you hard and fast, your slick soaking his cock, balls and thighs. The wet slapping of skin filled the air along with your whines and moans of his name. “So good Gin, so fucking good don’t stop.” He picked up the pace of his hips and moved one hand to slide your dress higher so your breasts could be exposed to him, so he could watch how they bounced and jiggled with each of his hard thrusts.

They looked perfect, your nipples were perked up because of the cold wind and how turned on you were. He toyed and teased your nipples as the tip of his cock pressed against your g spot, hitting the spongy spot repeatedly as his thrusts grew even faster and harder. Your back arched into his touch and your eyes shut due to all of the overwhelming pleasure. “Please don’t stop Gin, please please please!” You lifted your hands to grip his arms and ground yourself as your second orgasm of the night quickly approached. Seeing you like this was a complete shift from how you normally carried yourself, normally you were so composed and stoic and now you were a complete mess, whining and whimpering as tears and saliva coated your face.

He brought his hand back down from your breasts and to your clit, rubbing it quickly in time with his thrusts and he leaned down to bite down on one of your nipples, sending you head first into your second orgasm. You cried out his name loudly and he continued thrusting you through your orgasm. He latched off of your nipple and looked up at you, “where do you want my cum sweetheart?” His hips didn’t stop as you thought of your answer.

“Inside me Gin, please cum inside me.” He thrusted a few more times and came deep inside you, his thick seed filling you up. He slowed his hips as the last drops of his cum filled you up and he slowly pulled out of you. His cock throbbed at the sight of his cum seeping out of you, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You whined and bucked your hips as you felt the throbbing intensify.

“I need more Gin, I need more of you. Please Gin I need you, I need you so badly, please fuck me more please!” He stood and fixed his pants so they were back on his hips and he chuckled at the way your eyes widened. “Don’t worry I’m not gonna stop until that ache is gone, I just want to take you inside, don’t want you getting sick.” He took his phone and leaned down to pick you up and walked with you inside as you clung to him. “I’ll fuck you in every room and on every fucking surface. You want that?” You nodded and held onto him even tighter as he walked with you into his bedroom. He dropped you on his Alaskan king bed and you quickly glanced around to see the lights were dimmed and turned your attention back to him.

You sat up on your knees and took off your dress while he set his phone down and you pulled him over to you, making quick work of undoing the buttons of his shirt and quickly moving to his pants and briefs. “Don’t be in such a rush sweetheart, you’ll get cock.” He shrugged off the rest of his clothes and laid you back down on the bed while he slotted himself between your legs. He hooked his hands under the backs of your knees and pressed your knees to your chest before plunging his cock inside you, the action making the both of you moan and roll your heads back. His grip tightened on your legs while he started thrusting. “Fuck I think I’m even deeper now, look at you, taking me so fucking deep.”

Your eyes rolled back with each of his thrusts and fucked out babbles left your lips. “Don’t stop fucking me Gin, need your cock inside me all the time don’t fucking stop! I want your cum to leak out of me for days, please Gin fuck.”

He was eating up every second of your fucked out state, it was a shame that it did have to end at some point but with what he had planned for you, you’d be in the same position very soon. He gripped your legs tighter at each of your pleas and his heavy balls slammed against your ass with each of his thrusts. Your hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him in closer so he could kiss you again, it was like you were getting addicted to his lips and touch in this state. He kissed you deeply and his tongue explored your mouth while the tip of his cock pounded your sensitive spot over and over again.

It didn’t take long for the knot in the pit of your stomach to tighten again and signaled that your third orgasm of the night was going to approach. Your fingers gripped his hair and tugged on the silver stands as you feverishly kissed him back. “Gonna cum again Gin please don’t stop!” Your legs shook in his hold and tightened as the knot in your stomach snapped. You moaned his name against his lips and tugged on his hair harder, making him hiss and his cock twitch. He continued fucking you through your orgasm, feeling your juices gush out and soak his skin more. He groaned against your lips and felt his own orgasm approach quickly.

He continued pumping his hips against yours and stilled them as the first rope of cum spilled out, “fuck fuck take it all sweetheart, take all my fucking cum. It’s all for you, all of my fucking cum is for you.” He rocked his hips against yours and bit your bottom lip, slowly tugging it as he pulled back and pulled out of you. He quickly moved to look at how his second load leaked out of you and groaned at the sight. You bit your lip and whimpered as he stared and you shifted a bit so you could sit up and look at him. Your cunt was still throbbing and the fire in the pit of your stomach was still burning.

“Gin I need more, I need more of your cock. It hurts Gin.” He leaned back against his bed and beckoned you closer. “Then come here sweetheart, ride my cock and take all the cum you need. I’ll fuck you all night long until it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

He was the one that put you in this state but right now he was your savior. He was the only one that could provide you relief and you were going to use him as much as you needed to.

You two spent the rest of the night fucking, fucking on every surface of the penthouse apartment he could get you on and it was all in a lust filled haze. You don’t even remember when you fell asleep but when you finally came to your senses you were in his bed, his soft velvet blanket covering you. You rubbed your eyes and sat up slowly, wincing at the throbbing pain between your thighs. You hoped it might’ve been a very vivid sex dream but as you heard footsteps enter the room, you were met with the reality of the situation.

“Hello sleeping beauty, it’s 3 in the afternoon so I wasn’t sure if you wanted breakfast or something for lunch so I just made what I felt was necessary. You need to eat up, we had a very active night last night.” He was shirtless and you felt your cheeks burn as you saw all the marks that littered his body, all the scratch marks, the hickeys and everything that reminded you of the events that happened last night. He set the tray of food down and laid down next to you, pulling you in and pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.

You felt sick to your stomach. How could he act so normal after everything that just happened? You moved from his grip, wincing again as the slight tinge of pain coursed through your body. “What do you want, Gin? If you wanted to just fuck me then you didn’t have to slip something into my drink, you could’ve just waited for after trial.” You glared at him as the smirk grew on his face.

“Wow, no thank you or anything. Well, since you want to get straight to business I’ll tell you” he leaned in close and gripped your chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting your head up. “I want you to accept the plea deal I’m about to offer you. 50 years in a medium security prison with a minimum of 10 to 25 years on good behavior.”

You moved from his grip and pushed his hand away. “No! Are you insane? There’s no way in hell I’ll make a deal like that.”

He sighed and reached over to his nightstand to grab his phone. “I figured you were going to say that, so predictable, good thing I have my little insurance plan.” He scrolled through and turned the phone to you, showing you what was on the screen right before he pressed play. It was you from last night while he fucked you, your face was right in perfect view and the fucked out babbles you made were blaring through the speaker. “Would be a real shame if judge Fujimoto and your boss saw this, not only would you lose the case but you’d lose your job. I’d hate to see that happen to you but I could always offer you a job at my office. The thing is that no one would take you seriously when you’re in the courtroom and that would be a waste of your license to practice. So, have a change of mind?”

Tears brimmed your eyes as you watched the video, it was disgusting that he would put you in this position. Still you needed to play his game and play by his rules. “Fine, I’ll make the deal and it’ll be ready by tomorrow.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss and put his phone away. “Good girl, now eat up.” He stood by your side the rest of the day until you were ready to head back home and write up the deal. He escorted you to your car and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Drive safe, pretty girl, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He waved you off and you were left with your thoughts and soreness between your thighs and that’s when it all hit you. There was no way that after tomorrow he would leave you alone, he had that video and probably much more of the events that had transpired. He was going to use you as a pawn in his game of chess and your fate was sealed.

Once you got home you wrote up the deal, showered and then went to bed, not like you actually slept since you spent the entire night tossing and turning. When your alarm went off in the morning you got dressed and made your way to the office to tell your boss the news. Surprisingly he took it fine, he had no doubt in your abilities and knew that the families of the victims just wanted Sosuke in jail, no matter how long that time would be. Then you made your way to court, once inside the courtroom you felt your stomach turn into knots when you saw Gin and Sosuke and winced when Gin winked your way.

“Okay Mr. Ichimaru informed me that there was a deal on the table?”

You nodded and stood up, glancing over at Gin and watched his finger tap his phone as a silent warning to you. “Yes, the deal is 50 years in a medium security prison with a minimum of 10 to 25 years if the defendant is on good behavior.” Judge Fujimoto nodded and wrote it down in his notes.

“Sounds good to me. Mr. Ichimaru, since you and your client accepted just know it would be difficult for an appeal and if that’s all then court is dismissed.” He banged his gavel and stood, you gathered your things while Sosuke was escorted out by the court officers. You took a deep breath and left the courtroom, giving small smiles and hugs to the grieving family members of his victims and then walked out to your car. Just as you fished your keys out of your pocket you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Leaving so quickly sweetheart? You didn’t even let me congratulate you properly, this is technically my first loss since my client is going to prison.” He chuckled and moved in front of you, “but, I wouldn’t have wanted to lose to anyone but you. So, how about we celebrate? I’ll order some takeout and you can come over at around 8? And bring some clothes with you since you’ll be spending more nights at my place from here on out.”

You nodded and looked up at him, “I’ll be there at 8 Gin, and if that is all then I’ll see you later.”

“Ah, never leave without a goodbye kiss sweetheart.” He cupped your cheek with one hand and kissed you softly before pulling away and headed to his car. You got inside yours and drove back to your office, cursing yourself the entire way there.

If only you weren’t so curious to find out the tricks of his trade. But it’s like they always say, hindsight is always 20/20.

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bts-bay-bee · 4 years ago

Text

blue

↳ pairing: park jimin x reader

↳ genre: smut, fluff, a tiny bit of angst if you squint

↳ summary: teaching your cold boss to love might just be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

↳ warnings: CEO!jimin, cold!jimin, dom!jimin, assistant!reader, cursing, male masturbation, fantasizing (?), vaginal fingering, oral (male and female receiving), cum eating, marking, daddy kink, pussy slapping, praise kink (kinda?), choking, handcuffs, nipple clamps, clit massager, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation (slight)

↳ word count: 13 066

↳ meaning of blue: heaven. authority. cold. wet. slow. depression. trust. intelligence.

“Is he here yet?” You asked, out of breath as you ran to your desk at work. The office secretary shook her head, no, making you sigh out in relief. You had been massively late for work which ended up with you running up the many flights of stairs – in heels – deeming the elevator too slow to get you to your office.

You flashed the office secretary a huge smile, hoping that would further prod her to cover up for your tardiness, before walking over to your office, which was conveniently located right next to your boss’s much larger, much sleeker office.

Park Jimin had been your boss for the better part of five years now. You had undertaken the job when you had finished high school, looking for anything and everything to bring any amount of money into your bank account. University tuition fee statements were your personal version of hell; the obscenely large number crushed any of the dreams you once had. But then came along Mr Park.

When he had seen your curriculum vitae, he had immediately been intrigued. Back then he wasn’t CEO of the company, but he had started to quickly move up the proverbial ranks, which allowed him to finally acquire a personal assistant to handle the lesser tasks. A high school graduate – with straight A’s in every subject – hadn’t chosen to go to college? That’s what had made him so intrigued with you. In a few short hours after he had first reviewed your resume, you had gone through a short telephonic interview then you had been asked to come in for a trial period. One which you had passed with flying colours.

Jimin couldn’t help himself but ask about your lack of tertiary education. With a flushed face and shaking hands, you embarrassedly told him about your lack of funds. It was only embarrassing because here you were talking about your financial issues to a man who had a year’s worth of tuition on his wrist in the form of a shiny gold Rolex. Another year’s worth of tuition was probably wrapped around his ring finger, because of course no man as rich, successful and not to mention handsome wouldn’t have a wedding ring on.

Jimin’s wife, Irene – who you had only met a handful of times – was the complete opposite of the warm, caring man. She was cold and distant, even towards her husband, who was supposedly her high school sweetheart. How they managed to stay together for so long boggled your mind. Slowly, you started to see Jimin change. His once fond smile slowly disappeared, now being replaced by a cold, grim straight line. He stopped caring about the people he worked with. He even began to sneer at lesser workers, not bothering to greet the janitors or the office secretary.

Sitting at your shiny, mahogany desk you began to review emails for Jimin, sifting through the numerous subject lines and forwarding the emails to him so that he could take care of them. At around 10am you left your desk, realising that you had to make Jimin coffee. After adding the espresso shot and steamed milk into the coffee mug, you walked to the large door of Jimin’s office, knocking three times before waiting for a response.

“Enter.” His voice was clipped, meaning he was already in a foul mood.

You quietly pushed down the door handle and entered, your eyes trained on the floor as you made your way to his desk. Without speaking you placed the steaming cup of coffee in front of him, then began to make your way back to your office. Jimin hadn’t taken his eyes off of his large LCD screen, not paying you any attention. However, before you could take a step away from him, his cold, hard voice reached your ears.

“Take a seat, Miss L/N.”

Oh, you were screwed. There was no two ways about it.

“Yes, Sir.”

He never told you to sit after bringing him his coffee. Taking a deep breath, you turned back to face him and took a seat on the edge of the plush chairs. Jimin’s cold eyes still trailed over his monitor, making you squirm slightly from awkwardness. What did he want? He hadn’t asked you to sit with him since… Well, since before he was married. This just wasn’t something you did anymore.

After what seemed like hours, he lifted his eyes from the harshly lit screen, bring his eyes to your own. Flushing a light shade of pink, you cleared your throat and looked down again. You didn’t want to disrespect him by staring right back at him.

“Where’s your coffee?” He quietly asked, picking up his mug.

“I, uh… I didn’t make myself any, Sir.” You replied, eyes trained on your twiddling thumbs. He sighed, rolling his chair back slightly so that he was more comfortable.

“Don’t you want to go make yourself a cup? I need to speak to you about something.” Jimin said, loosening the tie he had dawned today slightly. You were frozen in the leather chair – had you done something wrong? Was he going to fire you? He noticed you hadn’t moved, which caused him to frown. “Is the idea of drinking coffee with me really that appalling, Y/N?”

“No! I just…” You began, wringing your hands nervously, your eyes still not leaving them. “Are you going to fire me?”

Jimin looked at you, stunned. “Why would think that?”

“Well… I was a little late for work today, and you asked me to sit down. You don’t ask me to sit down and have coffee with you, Sir. It was almost as if you were going to give me bad news.”

“I used to always ask you to have coffee with me, Y/N.” He replied, frowning slightly. He knew that you used to have coffee with him on a daily basis, usually to discuss the work for the day, but coffee, nonetheless. He also knew that at one point you used to meet his eyes when you spoke to him. When did that change? “Why aren’t you looking at me?”

“What did you want to talk to me about?” You asked, avoiding his question that you had no nice answer to. Did he really want to hear that his wife berated you repeatedly for working with him so closely? For looking at him when he spoke to you, and vice versa?

Jimin eyed you warily. “Are you sure you don’t want coffee?” You nodded wordlessly, only making him deepen his frown. Nevertheless, he ploughed on, settling on the fact that this was now what your relationship had been reduced to. “I have a promotion of sorts for you. Well, in actual fact, it’s just a favour for me. A rather large favour.”

“Sir?” You prodded, urging him to speak when he had stopped. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes out of sheer tiredness. He had been awake all night, thinking about how to ask you this.

“As you know, Irene and I have been separated for some time now.” He began, making you reel with shock. When did they split up?! And why did he think that you knew about it? “We recently decided to finalise it and get a divorce. She left last week. She left Ezra with me.”

Ezra is Jimin’s five-year-old son. Despite his mother being an absolute witch and his father turning colder with each passing day, he was still a respectful boy. Like Irene, you hadn’t really seen him that many times.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” You softly replied, not knowing what else to say. Where was this going? “I didn’t know this had been happening, Sir.”

Jimin shrugged, not really worried about the fact that he was divorced. That’s not what had been bothering him. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we were ever actually in love. Anyway, Irene isn’t what I need to speak to you about. It’s Ezra.”

“I’m sure this has been very taxing on him too.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You still didn’t know where this was going, and it was driving you crazy.

“He’s too young to really understand what’s been happening.” He replied, his jaw clenched, angry at himself for not being able to articulate why he so desperately needed your help.

“I, um… I’m not really the domestic type. I don’t know how to cook. I don’t know how to take care of a child. I’ve been dropping Ezra off at my parents every day since Irene left, but I don’t want him to grow up spending most of his day at someone else’s house. He should be at his home. And, I know, I can hire someone to babysit him, but he’s still so young to be left with strangers, and I don’t want to put his life in unnecessary danger. I mean, you never know what these people could be behind a façade –”

“Sir, where do I fit in?” You asked, amused at his rambling. This isn’t the cold CEO that you became used of. This was the old Jimin, the Jimin that had actually been interested about his employees, regardless of the amount on their pay cheque.

He cleared his throat, a slight blush on his cheeks. “I know that you’re not under any obligation to help me, but I trust you more than anyone else in my life, Y/N. I need… I need someone to help me with Ezra. Not just with Ezra, but with the whole domestic thing.”

“Mr Park, I still don’t know where I fit in.” You said soothingly, getting somewhat of an idea of what he was asking you.

He ran his hand though his styled blonde hair in exasperation. Why couldn’t he just say what he needed from you? “Move in with me.” Shit. That’s not how he had meant to phrase it.

You choked on nothing; the way he had blurted it out had surprised you, which ended up with you looking up at him with watery eyes from a lack of oxygen. He immediately jumped out of his chair and rushed over to you, lightly tapping your back until you could breathe easily again. Having him this close to you made you even more nervous than you already were. After your choking ordeal was over, he surprised you by taking a seat next to you instead of going to the other side of the desk. His cologne wafted over you, dosing you in his masculine scent. It honestly made you more nervous that you already were.

“Move in with you?” You repeated, in a small voice. Jimin looked mortified at your reaction, mentally bashing himself for even thinking of asking you this. But he was already in too deep to change the narrative.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Obviously, you wanted to help him – you want to help everyone around you. It was just who you were as a person. But how would it look? The world you lived in was a rather nasty, judgemental one.

“Sir… Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but what would people think? You barely finalised your divorce and you already have another woman moving in?”

“Just temporarily.” He weakly replied, embarrassment showing on his cheeks. “Of course, I know that this is such a huge favour to ask, I know it’s odd, but I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I wasn’t completely out of options.”

You bit your lower lip, then sighed. Curse your soft heart. Running a hand through your hair, you nodded to him. “We have a lot more to discuss, but when can I move in?”

***

“This is the living room… This is the kitchen… Your bedroom is upstairs, next to mine.” Jimin timidly said, scratching the back of his reddened neck. This nervous side of Jimin was quite new, and you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make you amused. Ever since you drove into the driveway five minutes ago, he had been stumbling over his words, tripping over nothing and wringing his hands.

“Sir, are you okay?” You asked before you could stop yourself. He caught your eye, opening his mouth to brush you off, but was left speechless when you didn’t shy away from his gaze. His mouth curved into a soft smile, realising that it was just you. There was no reason to be a nervous, rambling mess.

“I’m fine, Y/N.” He murmured, seeing the way your eyes danced with amusement. Who would’ve thought that the cold, cutthroat CEO would be rendered speechless from having his personal assistant in his home? “I’ve been thinking… I mean, you are essentially going to be living here for a while. I don’t want you to feel as if you’re forced to maintain a professional persona the entire time. Call me Jimin.”

“Okay, Si – Jimin.” You replied, quickly catching yourself. The feel of his name on your tongue foreign yet… Right. Jimin smiled at you, his nervousness of having you in his house now forgotten. Who would’ve thought that all it took to get rid of them was just one look into your eyes? But now his stomach was twisting for a different reason. Why did it flip when you said his name?

“Where’s Ezra?” Your question hung in the air as he abandoned any thought about the butterflies wreaking havoc in the pit of his tummy. Almost as if saying his name summoned him, the boy suddenly appeared to walk down the stairs. His dark hair was greatly contrasted by his honeyed skin; his cheeks so full that they gently shook with every step he took. Ezra was truly the miniature version of Jimin.

He bowed to his father almost a little too fast, making you raise your eyebrow. Upon setting his eyes on his son, Jimin stood up even straighter than he already was and lifted his chin, regarding Ezra with cold eyes.

“This is Y/N.” Jimin told the young boy, his jaw clenched. Jimin almost seemed angry at Ezra. “She’s going to be helping us while your mother is away.”

***

“Good morning, Ezra.” You sang softly as you slowly opened the curtains in his bedroom. You saw his eyes peak up at you through the covers of his grey blanket, then abruptly squint when the sun’s rays hit them. “Did you sleep well?”

“Hmm.” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The long sleeves of his blue pyjamas flopped over the tips of his fingers, only increasing the cuteness currently assaulting your eyes. You smiled at him, hoping that today was the day that he completely opened up to you – having already been here for two weeks surely must’ve made him somewhat comfortable with you, right?

“How about after you get bathed and changed, we have pancakes for breakfast?” You suggested as you ran your hands through his messy bedhead, smoothing the black tufts of hair. Ezra said nothing, instead he nodded at you, sleep still quite evident in his eyes.

After tidying up Ezra’s room, you walked into the kitchen with the intent of making some coffee for Jimin and yourself. As you put a couple scoops of ground coffee beans in the machine, you began prepping the ingredients for breakfast. If you worked fast enough, Jimin might be able to eat before he goes to the office. Humming as you gracefully moved throughout the kitchen, you quickly lost track of time.

“Are you… Making pancakes?” Jimin incredulously asked, eyes sweeping over the stack of pancakes that he found next to you on the counter. You hummed, flashing him a small smile, before going back to flipping the golden pancakes in front of you.

This was the first time that he had seen you in your natural state – usually you were already showered and changed before he even woke up, but today you just didn’t feel like keeping up the pretence. You were basically going to be living here for a couple more weeks – you didn’t feel like faking how organised you were as soon as you woke up. Even though you did feel kind of insecure and quite frankly embarrassed about the way you were dressed at the moment, Jimin felt totally different. Of course, he knew that you were gorgeous, but with your hair pulled in a messy bun and your thighs on display thanks to your sleeping shorts, Jimin just couldn’t help but stare at you.

His eyes studied the exposed flesh of your legs, unknowingly biting his plump lip when you turned around to get something from the cupboard behind you. Jimin only tore his eyes away from your unmarred skin when Ezra climbed onto the stool next to him.

You smiled at Ezra as you placed a stack of pancakes in front of him, the breath-taking curve of your pink lips were enough to make Jimin reciprocate the action, even though it wasn’t even being directed at him. When did he become to enamoured with you? Was it when you agreed to help him in his desperate time of need, or long before that? He couldn’t help but think that you were somewhat like a guardian angel – his own, personal angel, who makes his day a little brighter.

“Jimin? Jimin? Jimin!” You called, trying to capture his attention. He had spaced out, not realising that both you and Ezra had been attempting to talk to him. You nudged his shoulder gently, causing him to finally get out of his daydream and look at you confused. “We’ve been trying to speak to you. You kind of entered your own world there.” You explained to him, unable to prevent the tiny laughter from leaving your mouth.

Ezra had long since given up trying to talk to his father; any five year old child would want their father’s attention, but Ezra (even at his tender age) knew that his relationship with Jimin was somewhat strained; his father had already been corrupted by the cold CEO attitude to ever give him any attention. This was why Ezra was already almost done with his stack of pancakes – he didn’t want to spend any more time with Jimin than needed. Well, he knew that Jimin didn’t want to spend any more time with him than needed.

“I’m sorry, I was… Thinking.” Jimin apologised sheepishly, making Ezra confused. For as long as he had been alive, he hadn’t heard his father utter an apology. Not even to his mother. But Ezra was already confused – not once had his mother ever made him breakfast, let alone eat breakfast together. Was this what a normal family did every day? “What were you saying, Y/N?”

“I was wondering if it would be okay for me to take Ezra to the craft store today.” You repeated, nervously. “Ezra likes to draw and paint, and so do I, so I wanted to get us some more supplies –” Jimin didn’t even wait for you to finish before sliding his credit card over to you, making you look at him confused. “I wasn’t hinting for money, Sir, I just wanted to take Ezra with me.”

“I know, but please take it.” He murmured, dropping his gaze to the delectable stack of food in front of him. “And what did we talk about, Y/N? Stop calling me Sir. I’m not your boss here. Think of this as your home.”

“It’s just a habit…” You awkwardly explained, trying not to make too much a fool of yourself, as Ezra hopped down the chair and went to wash his hands. “It feels disrespectful to call you anything other than Sir.”

“I remember that you used to call me Chim before.” He muttered, thinking back to when you had first started at the company. You had been so playful with him, something that he misses dearly. His admission made you blush a deep scarlet. How did he even remember something as trivial as a stupid nickname?

As you opened your mouth to respond, you heard Ezra struggling to reach the faucet in the basin. Before you could turn to help him, he frantically hit the tap falling to the floor, subsequently turning the water on to a very high pressure. You suddenly felt water spray everywhere, falling all over the granite top, the floor, as well as you and Ezra.

You quickly shut the tap off, ignoring the water dripping down your face and checked to see if Ezra was fine.

“Are you okay, baby?” You murmured, wiping the water off of his face as his eyes filled with tears. “Did you get hurt?”

“Why didn’t you ask one of us for help?” Jimin asked in a firm voice, anger obviously showing on his face and in his voice. “Now look at what you’ve done!”

Ezra doesn’t respond to either of you. Instead, he took one look at Jimin’s face and ran out the kitchen, tears streaming down his face. You stood up and looked at Jimin in disbelief.

“It was just a mistake, Jimin. There was no need for you to speak to him like that.” You said stiffly, trying not to let your irritation shine through. You turned away from him, quickly cleaning up the water before ignoring Jimin’s silence and walking up the stairs into Ezra’s room.

Jimin really didn’t mean to do what he did. It came from years and years of being forced to be strict and abrupt with his employees. He meant to tell you that – he really did. But when you angrily snapped at him with a soaking wet, white shirt, he lost all train of thought. The water had turned the material see-through, showing off your plump tits, even flaunting the darker ring of your nipple. He was so lucky you were not there to see him frozen, mind unable to function from seeing your breasts.

‘Stop acting like some fucking schoolboy,’ he chided himself as he fixed his semi-hard length through his slacks, ‘you got hard after seeing her tits, for God’s sake. Pull yourself together.’

After checking the coast to make sure it was clear, he all but ran back into his room, hoping to hide his slightly stiffened member from you. As Jimin walked past Ezra’s room, he heard you soothingly reassuring the child that he hadn’t meant to shout at him. Hearing the way you had to quieten Ezra made his heart clench – you barely knew his son, yet you were comforting him after one of Jimin’s many outbursts. Of course Jimin didn’t want to compare you and Irene, the two relationships you shared with Jimin and Ezra were completely different, but she never cared for Ezra the way you do. She never bothered to notice that Ezra had been interested in art; hell, even he hadn’t noticed that.

Thoughts of how loving you are, how much you cared about people, filled his head for the rest of the day. His employees and business partners must’ve thought he had completely lost his mind: Jimin’s face had this faraway look the entire day, only changing when his mind decided to remind him just how delectable you looked this morning.

Jimin had been so out of it, so infatuated by you, he decided that there was no use being at work anymore. He wasn’t getting anything done anyway so that’s how he found himself driving back home early, subconsciously wanting to be back in your presence immediately.

“Y/N?” He called as he walked through the front door, loosening his tie. Not hearing your voice in response made him frown; you were usually waiting in the living room to greet him, with a steaming cup of coffee in hand and a bright, dazzling smile on your lips. He could care less about the coffee if he’s being honest. “Y/N, where are you?”

Silence once again met his ears causing him to frown deeper. Worry suddenly filled his every orifice. Immediately fishing his phone out of his pocket, his fingers almost went on autopilot, dialling your number before pressing the phone to his ear. His heart pounded in his chest when you didn’t pick up by the second ring. Where had you gone?

“Hello?”

“Y/N? Are you okay?! Where are you?” Jimin said loudly, almost yelling. His tone made you confused; you had told him that you were taking Ezra out today. Why was he so frantic?

“I’m fine, Jimin. Ezra and I just picked up some stuff from the store. Why are you asking?”

“I thought…” He couldn’t even finish the rest of his sentence because he didn’t know what he had thought. He cleared his throat, trying to clear your mind. “Never mind. Are you on your way back?”

After you reassured Jimin that you were indeed coming back soon, he let out a sigh of relief and ended the call. He didn’t know why, but not coming home to you felt… Wrong. You had only been here for two weeks, yet he can’t imagine living in this house without you; he sure as hell couldn’t figure out how he lived here with the emotionless statue that was Irene.

Jimin walked past into the kitchen with the intention of getting himself a snack but his eyes drifted to the sink, his mind betraying him by vividly reminding him of the way you looked this morning. God, the way your shirt had stuck to you, tempting him with the subtle curve of your waist, your voluptuous tits… Not to mention the way you had looked at him sternly. Everything about you made his head spin. Everything about you seemingly sent a rush of blood down to his cock.

Biting his lip, his mind veered into uncharted territory by imagining just how good you looked without the dripping wet shirt. He imagined kissing down your body, marking you as his, and his alone, then spreading your legs, suckling on your needy clit…

Before he knew it, Jimin was rock hard in his slacks from the mere thought of you for the second time today. He groaned when he felt his stiffness, irritated with himself because now he knew he had to get himself off, and he hated it. Jimin had only his hand to keep him company for the better part of two years now – himself and Irene hadn’t engaging in sexual activity whilst separated, despite living in the same house, and he couldn’t bring himself to bed anyone else whilst still legally married. Other than that, he found it humiliating to buy a sex toy in person, or even online – his company’s IT people could probably see his search history if they tried hard enough.

Jimin sighed, knowing that his erection was solely his fault. He trudged up the stairs, situating himself in his en-suite bathroom, before turning the shower on. He hated jacking off, but he might as well make the clean-up easy. Stripping out of his work clothes he quickly hopped into the shower, trying to ignore the almost painful stiffness protruding from his body.

Leaning his back and head against the tiled wall behind him, he allowed the water to cascade over him, relishing in the steaming hot water that soothed him. Jimin tried to not touch his boner for as long as he could but five minutes into the shower, he just couldn’t stop himself from gently stroking himself. He grabbed his shower gel, foaming up his hands so that it would be easier to jack himself off.

“Oh, fuck!” He groaned, taking his curved length into his slippery palm, moving back and forth on the sensitive flesh. Continuing the motion, he applied more pressure around his cock, relishing in the feeling of getting himself off. But he so wished it were you.

He wished it were your wet pussy squeezing and clenching around his dick, gripping him like a vice. He wished he could wrap your legs around his waist and pound into you, pulling on your hair and sucking on your neck, leaving deep purple marks so that everyone knew you were his. He wished he could paint the inside of your dripping cunt with his cum, making you hold it in and walk around the office with no panties, seeing evidence of his climax slowly drip down your legs.

“God, Y/N…” Jimin whined, his usually steely voice reduced to a pitched, needy moan. He wanted you so fucking badly, and he was so fucking close. His hand moved with a mind of its own – it doubled its speed, exerting itself to relieve Jimin. Throaty groans left his plump lips, bouncing off of the tiles and echoing throughout the bathroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Somehow squeezing tighter around his pulsating cock, he got more frantic. Jimin began bucking into his fist, ignoring how his wet hair stuck to his forehead. After a few more seconds of fucking into his hand, he let out a growl, his cum squirting up and landing on his toned stomach. “Y/N, I’m coming!”

***

“Why don’t you go up to your room.” You suggested to Ezra, ruffling his hair lightly as you walked into Jimin’s living room. He leaned into your touch, clearly affection-starved, making you frown. You’d have to talk to Jimin about that. You noticed just how cold and strict Jimin was with Ezra; of course it wasn’t your place to say anything about how someone raises their child, but it did become your place when said child has to look for comfort from you.

“Are you going to come paint with me?” Ezra asked timidly, one hand gripping the shopping bag filled with art supplies, while the other gripped your hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

“In a little bit, sweetheart.” You murmured, walking up the staircase that lead to the rooms. “Go set up. I just need to talk to your father about something.”

He nodded, only leaving your hand when you walked past his bedroom. You walked to the end of the hallway, planning on giving Jimin a piece of your mind for being so unloving towards Ezra. Without knocking, you entered the room hoping to find Jimin laying on his bed or something, but he was nowhere to be found.

“Sir?” You said quietly, before berating himself. Hadn’t he told you not to call him that? You cleared your throat, steeling your voice before calling loudly again. “Jimin?”

As you walked further into his room, you heard the shower running, indicating that he was already occupied. You decided to talk to him later, so you turned on your heel and began to walk out the room. Suddenly, you heard Jimin’s voice. “Y/N, I’m coming!”

Huh. Okay. Guess he was cutting his shower short for you.

You sat on the edge of his bed, elbow resting on your crossed legs and chin resting on your open palm. What if you were about to say something hurtful and he decided that he didn’t need you anymore? Maybe this was a bad idea.

In a split second, you decided that this conversation could happen another day, so you started to make your way out of his room. As you were about to lift yourself off of the luxurious bed, the bathroom door opened, letting steam escape the bathroom, and also allowing you to see your boss.

Your jaw dropped open seeing Jimin in nothing but a white towel covering his lower body. Water droplets streaked down his chest, down to his toned abs. Upon seeing them, you felt your mouth go completely dry… Oh god, his body looked like it was carved by the gods themselves. Jimin looked shocked, almost panicked by your presence, which was weird since he had told you he was coming out of his shower.

“I, um… I needed to talk to you.” You said, quickly, standing up hurriedly. “I was about to leave and then you said you’d be coming out the shower. I just assumed you wanted me to wait for you.” Jimin’s cheeks were tinged red, probably from the hot shower, paired with his second-hand embarrassment from you. “I’m sorry. I’ll just speak to you later. I’ll be in Ezra’s room if you need me.”

And with that, you practically ran out of Jimin’s room. You didn’t realise that you didn’t allow him to get a word in. Speed walking to Ezra’s room, you felt your cheeks heat up from extreme embarrassment – how, just how, did you think it was appropriate to check out your boss? Sure, you were living in his house, but it’s totally a different thing.

“Y/N?” Ezra called, confused when you rushed into his room and shut the door behind you quickly. You quickly took a deep breath to calm your radical breathing, then turned to the young child, putting on a dazzling smile.

“Yes, sweetheart?” You replied, seeing a smile forming on his lips due to your own. Your eyes drifted to the painting supplies that he had spread in front of him, all untouched, because he was waiting for you to paint with him.

“Did father give you work? Or can you come paint with me?” He timidly said, eyes full of hope. You felt your smile turn tender; you know that you only spent a few weeks with him, but Ezra had completely captured your heart. But paired with your tenderness, you felt yourself feel a pang of sadness: Ezra never called Jimin anything other than ‘father’. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but it just showed that their relationship wasn’t the best, nor were they the closest. God, how can you think about fixing their relationship when you were drooling over his father five seconds ago? You’re pathetic.

“I came to paint with you.” You reassured, swallowing hard to try and get that delicious image of Jimin out of your mind.

***

After you left, Jimin sat on the edge of his bed, extremely embarrassed that you had heard him jacking off. Sure, you didn’t exactly figure it out, but you had heard him nonetheless. He quickly found himself regretting doing what he did, not because you were his PA, but because you were obviously so innocent; even though he had caught you checking him out, he’s pretty sure that your mind didn’t extend to anything else. Unlike him.

He sighed, knowing that he had to face you momentarily. Park Jimin – a married man – had been thinking of his assistant, who’s selflessly helping him by living in his house, while he masturbated. How fucked up is he? What kind of person –

Stopping his self-derogatory monologue, he realised that he had nothing to be angry or ashamed about: he was no longer a married man, and as far as he knew, you were completely single. What was stopping him from advancing on you? It was almost as if a lightbulb had gone off in his brain. What was stopping him?

With his mind made up, he decided to quickly slip on some clothes, probably needing to make a better impression than just a towel hanging loosely from his hips, then walked down the stairs to where you were making dinner.

“Y/N?” He called, walking with purpose into the kitchen. His eyes fell to you chopping up some onions with Ezra quietly sketching something next to you. He suddenly felt awkward – the whole situation was too… Domestic for him. It was something that he never experienced.

But it was too late for him to change his mind. Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat and directed his gaze to Ezra. “Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N.”

***

“Y/N?” Jimin called as he walked into the kitchen, seemingly angry. You immediately shrunk, thinking he was about to yell at you for waiting in his room. You felt nervousness fill your being at your pending doom. He turned his attention to Ezra, voice turning even harder. “Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N.”

That simple command, ‘Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N’, was enough to bring back all your anger that consumed you earlier. Jimin needed to fix his relationship with Ezra, and he needed to fix it fast.

Ezra wordlessly obeyed Jimin, hopping off the chair from next to you and making his way up to his room. Once he was safely back in his room you turned to Jimin, meeting his cold gaze, you refused to back down. Ezra needed you now.

“Y/N, are you –”

“Why do you speak to him like that, Jimin?” You coldly asked, trying to match his usual tone. “That’s what I needed to talk to you about earlier.” He didn’t reply to you, seemingly shocked in your tone and words. “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but it seems like no one else is willing to confront you about it. Ezra is just a child. It’s fine if you speak to me like that, I’m just your assistant, but he’s your child.”

“You’re more than just –”

“I wasn’t finished.” You said, visibly vibrating from fear, yet you still stood your ground. “You’re so cold towards him, Jimin. And why?”

He stood frozen in place, unsure of what to say. In the many years he has known you, you’ve never seemed so… Angry about something. You were almost a completely different person and it made Jimin feel unsure about himself for the first time in forever. He swallowed hard and broke eye contact with you, deciding to instead stare at the floor.

“I know that things must be hard because Irene isn’t here anymore, but you cannot allow that to effect Ezra.” You said softly, knowing that you had overstepped multiple boundaries. He opened his mouth to reply but found that he had no words to say. He had no excuse for his harshness towards Ezra.

Before you could say anything else – perhaps an apology, perhaps more wakeup calls for him – he quickly walked out of the kitchen, probably going to hide in his bedroom. You sighed, knowing that you were too harsh, yet also knowing that it needed to be said.

***

A few hours later, you still haven’t seen Jimin. He had been holed up in his room, doing God knows what, and didn’t even come out for dinner, which left you and Ezra to enjoy a quiet supper. But now it was late, and Ezra was currently knocked out in his room; apparently the shopping trip and then painting for hours was a little too much for his small body. The fact that he was sleeping was bad news for you – it left you to wallow in your thoughts, it left you to overthink.

Sighing as you turned on the shower, you began stripping and jumped into the shower, enjoying the soothing feeling of hot water caressing your skin. However, your relief was short lived as unwelcome thoughts of Jimin swam through your mind. It wasn’t your place to say anything; all you did was hurt him when he needed someone to help him.

‘I should probably apologise’, you mused as you rinsed soap off of your body, feelings of guilt and shame pooling in the pit of your stomach. Nodding to yourself, you quickly wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, before going back to your room, planning to quickly change into your pyjamas before going over to apologise to Jimin. Before you could do anything of the sort, you heard someone knock on your door, making you frown.

“Ezra, is everything okay –?” You began, tightening the towel around you before pausing. It wasn’t Ezra, it was Jimin. He looked exhausted, worried even. Before you could say anything, he beat you to it.

“I think I have feelings for you.” He blurted, causing you to look at him confused. You didn’t even get a word in before a look of realisation came over him and he all but bolted back to his room, leaving you with your mouth agape. What. The. Fuck.

“J-Jimin!” You called, now worried for his sanity. You definitely shouldn’t have yelled at him earlier. He didn’t look back at you as he hurriedly closed his door. Exasperatedly, you walked down the hallway, and opened his door.

He was laying on his bed, face buried into a pillow. If you weren’t so worried about him, you might have actually laughed at the situation. “Jimin?” You softly said, making him groan.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Just ignore whatever I said. Go back to your room.”

“Why are you apologising?” You murmured, shutting the door and walking closer to him, ignoring what he said. He sighed into his pillow; face still buried there.

“Please go. I can’t face you right now.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You said gently. “You need to learn how to express your feelings, Jimin. You can’t say something like that then run away.”

“I didn’t run away.” He grumbled, barely lifting his face off of his pillow to eye you out. This was so unlike the usual Jimin that you couldn’t help but feel worried. “Go get dressed, Y/N.”

“Then you’ll just lock your door so that I cannot get in.” You replied, suddenly acutely aware of your lack of clothing, making your cheeks heat with embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively walked forward, placing a hand on his muscular back. “Jimin? Please talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine. Go to your room.”

“Stop acting like a child.” You chastised, realizing that this was the only way to get him to talk to you. “You need to get used to talking about your feelings. Yours and Ezra’s relationship needs open communication –”

“Y/N, I swear I’ll talk about my fucking feelings as soon as you get some clothes on.” He all but yelled, suddenly sitting up with his eyes running hungrily over your exposed legs. “I can’t tell you what I need to when my mind is set on tearing that God damn towel off.”

You froze, completely shocked that he could ever say such a thing, let alone to you. Quickly shaking off your astonishment and arousal, you knew this was just a ploy to avoid talking about his feelings. Brushing your hand on his cheek, Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut while his chest rapidly rose and fell. Unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t using this as some tactic to get rid of you: he genuinely couldn’t get his mind off of your luscious thighs, wanting nothing more than to sink his teeth into it and mark you everywhere.

“Please…” He whimpered, leaning into your touch despite wanting – no, needing – you to leave. He didn’t know if you were at all interested in him, but if by some off chance you were, he didn’t want this to be the first time anything like that happened.

“Talk to me.” You whispered, worry and anxiousness blooming in your heart. What happened to the fearless, scary CEO? Where was he?

Within a millisecond you felt his hands grip your towel-clad waist, flipping you underneath him, allowing his toned thighs to trap your own bare legs. Your heart began to pound rapidly, only adding to the growing heat between your thighs.

“What do you want me to talk about?” He murmured as plump lips ghosting over your earlobe, resulting in a silent gasp to leave you. Why were his lips so soft? And why, oh God why, were you so responsive to his barest touch?

Gulping, you tried to move, knowing that Jimin wasn’t in the right state of mind for this. Even so, it was almost as if your body didn’t want to believe that; your arousal from him doing basically nothing was slowly becoming evident.

“Jimin, you’re not all there at the moment, we can talk about this in the morning –”

“No, you wanted to talk, so let’s fucking talk.” He snapped, running his hands over your calves, head buried in the crook of your neck and his lips ghosting over your pulse point. “Now what do you want me to tell you, Y/N, hmm? Want me to tell you that I want to bury my face in-between your legs?”

“Jimin!” You said, shocked at his lewd words. He didn’t even have the decency to look abashed, nor did he even pull away from your neck. Quietly kissing over your sensitive flesh, you began to feel goose bumps rise over your skin. He paid you no mind as his hands continued to roam over your exposed legs.

“Do you want me to tell you that I want to have my lips wrapped around your pretty little clit? Or how about finger fucking you until you’re cumming all over my hands? Hmm? Is that what you want, baby?”

As much as you wanted this, as much as you wanted him, you couldn’t allow him to do this. Not when he has such emotional issues. Tearing his lips away from your neck, you held his face securely between your hands.

“You’re thinking with your dick.” You firmly said, not missing the way his eyes were clouded with lust. He shook his head, trying to move back to ghost lips over your soft skin. “I cannot let you do something you’ll regret. I came here to talk about your feelings. You need to communicate with me.”

“Let me show you what I’m trying to say… You know I can’t… Use words for this.” He mumbled, feeling the foreign feeling of nervousness gnaw at him. “I’m not going to regret it, Y/N.”

Without waiting for a response, he removed your hands from his cheeks and instead cupped your own. “Can I kiss you?”

You were frozen, unable to think. Was this really happening? Did he really mean it?

Before you could answer him, you felt his soft lips gently ghost over your own, allowing you plenty time to move away if you wanted, before urgently pressing his lips onto yours. He tasted like mint, the fresh feeling making you sigh into his mouth. The tip of his tongue ran over your bottom lip, silently asking you to let him in. Tentatively parting your lips, you felt his tongue slowly slip next to your own, the corners of his mouth slightly lifting upwards to create a small grin.

‘Is this what it is supposed to feel like?’ he mused, feeling butterflies erupt in the pit of his stomach. He never had this feeling of Irene; hell, they never kissed unless he was balls deep inside of her, and even then, affectionate kisses were few and far between. Kisses between them used to be a clash of teeth, sloppy, usually out of irritation and just to keep each other quiet because they had a child down the hallway, but this… This was different. This was right.

Pushing his nervousness aside, he took one corner of your towel and slowly pushed it out of the way, giving you plenty time to stop him if you were uncomfortable. You didn’t stop him; you didn’t push him away – and why would you? You wanted him just as much (if not more) as he wanted you. Threading your fingers through his hair, you began kissing him harder, no longer fighting against your need for him. Even though you knew he wasn’t serious about his feelings for you, the sexual tension was too much for you to handle, especially since he looked so delectable hovering over your now naked body.

“Knew you had fucking amazing tits.” He murmured to himself, breaking away from your lips to kiss down your neck and chest. Your towel lay underneath you, no longer a barrier between your bodies. He sucked hard on your chest, marking the flesh just above your nipple with a love bite, eliciting an audible gasp from you.

Your arousal had begun to slowly drip out of you, the sticky fluid making your folds glisten, something that wasn’t missed by Jimin. After trailing down the length of your body, he placed a kiss over your mound, his eyes never leaving your own. With your heart beating profusely, you watched with bated breath as his eyes left yours to settle on your dripping folds.

“You can stop me whenever you want.” He promised, struggling to contain his excitement at finally being able to taste you. Nodding at him, you watched as he spread your thighs, trailing his lips over the sensitive flesh, before abruptly sucking harshly on your inner thigh. He proceeded to do this to your other thigh as well, taking his time to get to where you needed him. After marking both your thighs, he soothingly ran his tongue over the bruised flesh, only adding to your frustration.

“Jimin…” You quietly complained, your pussy throbbing from lack of attention. He looked up at you, laying his chin on your stomach, with a small smile on his features, making your heart stop. He was so gorgeous like this: carefree, happy.

“I have to take my time.” He whispered sadly, his smile still on his face. “I don’t know if you’d want anything to do with me afterwards. You might leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promised, heart wrenching at how lost he looked. Before any more words could be said, before any more reassuring sentiments could be uttered, Jimin peeled apart your folds, strands of sticky arousal visible connecting your lips. Whilst locking eyes with you, he repeatedly licked up your arousal, spreading your folds further to get him what he wants.

His warm, soft tongue glided against your slickness, drawing soft sighs and moans out of you. Your fingers made their way into his hair, needing to feel him in some type of way as he so gently suckled on your dripping core. The pleasure engulfed your entire being, all curtesy of Jimin’s delicate mouth. Slowly, you felt him prod a finger at your honeyed entrance, resulting in a moan being drawn out of you.

While he slowly worked his finger into your core, he leaned up and kissed you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. As you sucked on his bottom lip, making him chuckle at you, he inserted another finger into you, making you clench around his digits.

“Shit, baby, you’re so tight.” He groaned, feeling you contract on his fingers. “When’s the last time anyone stretched you out?”

“Jimin!” You moaned, feeling him massage that spongey flesh inside of you while his thumb rubbing loose circles over your slightly swollen clit.

“As much as I want to hear your moans, I need you to be quiet, baby.” He murmured onto your lips as he continued his actions. You whimpered into his mouth, unable to contain yourself. “Think you can be quiet for me?”

He didn’t wait for a reply; instead, he removed his hot mouth from your lips and placed it right on your clit, sucking harshly. Throwing your head back from the white-hot pleasure, you bit down your moans, wanting nothing more than to please him and be quiet.

“Pussy taste so fucking good.” He praised whilst smirking, a result of you bucking your hips further into him while biting your lip, silently asking for more. Suddenly, he gripped your hips tightly and pressed the flat of his tongue over your leaking cunt, collecting your arousal on his taste buds before swallowing the nectar down, eventually abandoning the movements to stick his stiffened tongue in your entrance repeatedly. His tongue fucked you mercilessly, relentlessly, all the while rubbing forceful circles on your clit. Pressure continued to mount in your abdomen, only amplifying the extreme pleasure Jimin was inflicting on you.

“J-Jimin… I’m going to…” You whimpered, your hands tangled in his hair as he suddenly added two fingers in you, using his mouth to suck on your clit harshly, almost painfully. He spread his fingers into a V, stretching your tight walls, kick starting your climax.

Your body arched off the bed, pushing your exposed breasts into the cool air. Jimin worked you through your orgasm, his tongue and fingers not relenting as you continuously convulsed around him, your cum sliding down into his tongue. Your cunt throbbed, the pleasure foreign after not being stimulated for so long, yet he didn’t stop. Continuing his actions, he began to lick thick, bold stripes with his tongue, giving no sign of stopping, despite you ceaselessly pulling on his hair out of sheer overstimulation.

“Jimin, Jimin, stop!” You whined, feeling the euphoric feeling evolve into something different. Because of your begs and pleas, his tongue relented; removing it from your pulsating clit to your lips. Tasting your cum on his tongue made you whimper, the mere thought of you tainting him was already turning you on again.

His plump, pink lips never left your own, even when he switched from hovering over you to laying next to you, using his hands to continuously rub and knead your soft thighs.

“You did so well for me, baby.” He praised, pulling you over his lap, making you straddle him. Subconsciously, you began to grind down onto him, feeling his hard cock through his pants. Letting out a strangled moan, he forcefully held your hips to prevent you from rubbing your slightly swollen, still glistening folds over his length. “We don’t have to go further, Y/n. Too much has been left unsaid. I just had to have a taste of you before you…”

“You still haven’t told me if you meant what you said.” You whispered, not at all feeling awkward still being the only one who wasn’t fully clothed. “You need to get better with your emotions.”

“I –” He choked out before looking away with tears in his eyes, causing your heart to clench. “How am I supposed to do this?”

“Don’t cry, Jimin.” You whispered, using the pad of your thumb to gently wipe away the small tear that fell. “Just tell me how you feel. I won’t judge you. You’ve never judged me, right? You stood by me when no one else would. I’ll never forget how much you helped me, despite not even knowing me.”

He slowly turned back to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and holding you tightly. You felt silent sobs wreck through him, bringing forth tears to your own eyes; but you couldn’t cry, not when he needed someone, anyone, to be there for him. While allowing the sobs to die down and ignoring the sudden wetness on your neck, you stroked his hair soothingly, wondering when’s the last time anyone encouraged him to let out his emotions, encouraged him to cry. You didn’t rush him. You knew this was more than just him and you – it was Ezra, it was his lack of emotion and affection to everyone around him.

“I’m ready to listen whenever you’re willing to talk, okay?” You whispered, softly kissing the top of his head. The action caused him to immediately tighten his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close. After a few moments, his croaky voice rang through the room.

“I feel like the worst father in the world.” He admitted through his tears, small sniffles leaving him. “I know I should be doing better, but how? I don’t know my own son, Y/N. You’ve barely moved in and you know more about him than me. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be affectionate.” He spat out the word, his tears drying on his cheeks.

“You seemed to know how to be affectionate with me…” You said quietly, pointing out how he had become so caring when there was a sexual element. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

“That’s different.” He admitted. “I know what you like, I know how to make you cum, I know the right things to say... That’s just sex. It’s easy for me to do all those things, but anything other than that…”

“Keep going, baby.” You encouraged, using a pet name to show him that you are listening.

“I’m confident enough in my body, but I’m not confident with my words.” He carefully explained, voice cracking slightly. Taking a shaky breath, he finally looked up into your eyes, finding comfort in them despite being scared, terrified even, of opening up like this. “I really like you, Y/N – oh my God, I sound like some teenager –”

Quickly pecking him on his lips, he fell quiet, mesmerized by the softness of your lips, if only for a second. “I like it when you sound like a teenager.” You replied, no teasing tilt to your voice as you looked at him with adoration.

“I can’t love you like anyone else can.” He admitted, still gazing into your eyes, seemingly unable to look away. “I don’t know how to, evidently because I’m already fucking divorced. But I can try. I can learn. You can teach me.” He breathed, saying everything rather quickly. “Please teach me. I can’t let you go. I need you. Ezra needs you.”

“Jimin,” You said carefully, trying not to sound too harsh. “I’m your assistant.”

“I don’t care.” He breathed, heart pounding through his chest. “You can move to another department if you want, but I need you in my life.”

“What if it doesn’t work out?” You whispered, having to think all the consequences through for the both of you. He frowned at the thought of not being able to work out your relationship.

“Then at least we tried.” He whispered back, his forehead leaning on your own. “But please give this a chance. I need you. I need this. Teach me how to love again.”

***

One year later

“Dad, I’m going to be late!” Ezra huffed, trying to move away from the hugs and kisses his father was trying to give him. Jimin elected to ignore him, kissing his forehead one more time, before Ezra ran to you, hiding behind you. “Y/N, please make him stop! Grandma’s waiting for me.”

“Why would I stop him when I want to do the same thing?” You laughed, picking him up and peppering his face with kisses. Jimin chuckled, gathering Ezra’s backpack, various toys and paint supplies, packing them neatly. Jimin’s mother had asked Ezra to accompany her for a short holiday to the countryside, which Ezra basically jumped at.

“Mommy, please!” He whined, making you freeze. He had never called you that, and by the silence echoing throughout the room, Jimin hadn’t expected it either. Before you could break the silence, Ezra gasped and ran over to his Grandmother, who had just walked through the open front door, hugging her tightly in greeting.

“I’m sorry for rushing you, but we really do need to get on the road.” She apologised, all of you standing outside as Jimin placed Ezra’s luggage in the trunk of his mother’s car.

A few minutes later, you and Jimin were waving goodbye to a retreating car. After seeing them safely off, Jimin snatched up your hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing it up to his lips. He still had an irrational fear of showing affection to you and Ezra when people were around, but when you were in your safe haven, he was the most affectionate person you’ve ever met.

“Mommy, huh?” He asked while smirking, using his free hand to bring your hips to his body. You smiled and blushed in response, shrugging as if it was nothing, but inside you were jumping for joy. He planted a kiss on your lips before leading you back inside, his hands squeezing your ass gently. “So, mommy and daddy are having some alone time this weekend…”

“Ezra didn’t call you daddy.” You laughed, walking into the kitchen to get a snack to eat.

“Yeah, but you did.” He replied, biting his lip as you gasped, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as he brought up your hidden kink that you had accidentally let slip a few nights ago. He hadn’t brought it up until now, making you think that he hadn’t heard your whines as he had been too busy fucking you senseless.

“Park Jimin!” You chastised, swallowing hard as your hands barely grasped the ice cream pint you had gotten from the freezer. He raised an eyebrow at you, squaring his shoulders. “I didn’t think you heard me.” You admitted, blushing tomato red.

“Oh, don’t worry, I heard you loud and clear, baby girl.” He promised, pressing his bulge against you as you leaned on the large island in the middle of kitchen. His hands found purchase in your hair, roughly yanking it backwards so that your neck was exposed. He ran his lips all over your neck, biting the flesh, leaving dark red marks.

“Ezra is barely out the door and you’re already this horny?” You snarked, trying to hide your gasps as he sucked rather harshly on your pulse point.

“We haven’t been able to really fuck lately.” He shrugged, lifting you up on the cold granite surface and wrapping your legs around him. “Quickies aren’t as fun as being buried in this pussy for hours and hours on end, baby.”

“We have to go through that presentation – Jimin!”

“Where are your panties, huh?” He teased, his hand slipping under the hem of your skirt to knead your bare ass. “You’re acting like you don’t want my cock, but you aren’t even wearing anything to cover this pretty, little pussy.”

You didn’t reply, knowing that if you did a whimper would slip out of you, only adding to Jimin’s smugness. He ran his fingers along your folds, revelling in the way thick strands of your arousal clung to his fingers, essentially coating them in your arousal. You couldn’t take it anymore, the charade of not wanting him, so you threaded your fingers through his hair, using it to bring him to your mouth.

“Jimin, please…” You breathed, feeling his fingers dance around your clit. As you spoke, he froze, pulling away from your lips with his eyebrow raised.

“What did you just call me?” He asked sternly, his fingers retreating from your wet cunt, only to come down hard on your clit, the slapping sound echoing throughout the kitchen. “You need to be more respectful, you little brat.”

“Daddy…” You corrected, voice still barely above a whisper. “Daddy, please.”

He slapped your pussy again, ensuring that whimpers left your lips. Your arousal coated his fingers, the sticky substance making his skin glint in the light.

“Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby girl.” Jimin murmured, inspecting his shining fingers before looking you right in the eye and slipping one in his mouth. The sight alone was enough to release another gush of arousal out of you, some of your juices now coating your thighs. “Fuck, you taste good.” He groaned, sucking on his finger. He glanced up at you, his eyes showing just how smug he is. “Want to have a taste?”

Without waiting for a reply, he placed his fingers in your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as you sucked his fingers clean. Maintaining eye contact with him, you swirled your tongue around his digits, licking him clean.

“Like that?” He asked, eyes dark with need. With his finger still in your mouth, you nodded, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “What do you want now, baby?”

“Daddy’s cock.” You instantaneously replied, almost quivering with need. He smirked, allowing you to grind into his bulge, trying to desperately get any source of friction.

“And what do you want to do with Daddy’s cock?”

“Suck it.” You answered, mouth salivating at the mere thought of it. “I want to suck it and taste Daddy’s cum.”

“Then why aren’t you on your knees?”

Wordlessly, you hopped off of the counter, knees harshly hitting the floor, yet you couldn’t care less. Your hands messily unbuckled Jimin’s belt, precariously shoving his jeans and boxers down his muscular thighs before you began to palm him in your hand.

“Don’t fucking tease me.” He groaned, voice deep and laced with seduction. “I still have half a mind of punishing you for being disrespectful, baby.”

Not wanting to get punished – well, at least for now – you slipped him into your mouth, sucking gently on his tip while maintaining eye contact. You gave it a few kitten licks, sucking off his precum, you run the flat of your tongue on the underside of his cock, making him grip your hair. His eyes hardened as he knew you were still teasing him, so he used his grip on your hair to push you all the way down to the hilt, making you take every inch of his cock down your throat.

“Ah, fuck yeah, baby.” He moaned, feeling your throat muscles expand and contract as it tried to swallow all of him. Tears sprung to your eyes, the lack of oxygen evident, but it only made Jimin chuckle. “Who fucking told you to tease me, huh? You wanted my cock in your mouth, baby. Now take. It. All.”

He punctuated every word with a thrust, increasing the tears in your eyes as well as the spit leaking out the side of your mouth. You loved it when Jimin made you take all of him, and it was evident as your arousal had slickened your thighs even more. He eventually took pity on you, pulling you off his dick as you gasped for air, your tears now streaming in rivulets down your face.

Allowing your lungs the chance to get air, you begun using your hands to jack him off, your spittle and his precum acting as lubricant. You stared up at him as his face relaxed with pleasure, head thrown back as your hands continuously pumped his length. Eventually, when your lungs had recovered, you put him back into your mouth, bobbing your head on the parts that you could reach without choking. With your hands fondling his balls, and your hollowed-out cheeks repeatedly sucking on him, he quickly met his end.

Grabbing your hair, he once again pushed you right up against his pubic bone and shot his cum right down your throat. High pitched, melodious moans reached your ears as his orgasm hit him. The salty, tangy taste of his cum coated your taste buds, the taste alone making you clench your thighs.

After the rush of his climax was over, you came off his dick with a ‘pop’, nuzzling your head into his thigh, clearly looking for praise. With his chest still heaving, he looked down at you, affection blooming in his eyes.

“You always suck Daddy’s cock so well, baby.” He murmured, helping you to your feet, bringing your lips to his own. “Such a good girl, hmm? Does my baby want a reward?”

“Swallowing your cum was my reward.” You breathed, still revelling in the feeling of having him fall apart in your mouth. He smirked, enjoying how submissive and God damn fuckable you were. His hand slipped around your throat, squeezing the sides gently, while his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear.

“Run up to our room. By the time I get there, I want you to be naked and laying on the bed for Daddy. Got it?”

Nodding, you felt excitement bloom deep in your chest, knowing that you were truly about to be rewarded. Once he let go of your throat, you all but ran up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to please Jimin. You stripped out of your skirt and stockings before you even made it to the bed, throwing them haphazardly over your shoulder, then you began to unbutton your blouse, peeling off your bra in the process.

Waiting with bated breath, you found yourself squirming with impatience on the cool, silky sheets. Right before you could huff out with irritation, Jimin made his appearance in all his glory. His own shirt was nowhere to be found, and his jeans hung low on his hips, giving you quite a view of his abs and defined v-line.

He paid you no mind, walking over to the closet to rummage around in the drawers. He came back a few moments later with a pair of handcuffs and nipple clamps, as well as something shoved in his back pocket. You quivered at the thought of him tying you up; despite the amount of times it had happened, it still brought an insane amount of adrenaline to your bloodstream.

“Good girl…” He trailed off as he took in your naked body, feeling his cock stir again. The silence in the room faded as he slipped the cuffs around your wrists, then fastened it to the headboard so that your arms were stretched above you, pushing your breasts up into the air. Using this to his advantage, he immediately snapped the clamps onto your nipples, the soft silicone doing little to soften the blow of the pinch.

A hiss left your lips when he tugged on the chain, accentuating the pain that claimed your nipples. He tugged on it again, gauging your reaction, and smirking when you whimpered.

“Does it hurt, baby?” He asked as he kissed your neck, sucking red blotches onto your skin. You nodded in response, causing him to smirk even further. “But you like it, don’t you? Daddy’s baby girl enjoys the pain.”

Before you could respond to him, his lips claimed yours, quickly claiming every breath you had. After a year of being together, Jimin’s lips knew exactly how to move with your own, not to fast nor to slow. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, slowly snaking its way to your own, where it massaged it gently.

In the midst of his lips ravishing your own, his hand slipped into his back pocket, retrieving a clit massager. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped his hand in-between your legs, prying them apart so that he could place the toy right above your clit.

As soon as he turned on the toy, the gentle sucking caused you to moan into his mouth. Continuing to move his tongue in tandem with yours, Jimin slowly began to circle the head of your toy around your clit, getting maddeningly close to the bundle of nerves but never actually touching it.

“Daddy…” You whined, wiggling your hips so that he could place the toy directly on your clit. “Stop teasing!”

“Weren’t you just teasing me when we were in the kitchen?” He cockily asked, once again circling your clit with the toy. “Remember, baby? When you weren’t giving me what I wanted?”

“But you came!” Your argued, voice slowly becoming whinier as your stomach began to clench uncomfortably in anticipation. “I want to cum too, Daddy. Please!”

“You want to come?” Jimin asked, amused at the way your hips were trying to angle themselves to get the stimulation directly on your clit. You nodded, arms straining against the handcuffs. “Why don’t you stop chasing the toy then, huh? Why don’t you be a good girl for Daddy?”

“I am a good girl – ah!”

Your sentence was cut short by Jimin placing the toy right on your clit, turning the toy to its highest setting. A plethora of moans left your lips as the suction steadily grew and grew, simulating someone sucking on your clit.

“Daddy…” You moaned weakly, the pleasure making your brain fuzzy. With the suction directly on your clit, your orgasm loomed over you, driving any other thought out of your head. Needing something to set you off, you began to buck your hips into the toy, moaning and whimpering softly. “Please let me cum, Daddy… Please…”

“You can, baby.” He cooed into your ear, mesmerized with the way your body was lifting off of the bed to claim your orgasm. He quickly tugged on the nipple clamps, knowing that a tiny bit of pain would increase your pleasure tenfold. “Such a good little girl for Daddy, yeah? Always to ready to beg.”

With a yelp, your climax washed over you, turning your bones to nothing and transporting your head to cloud nine. You trembled lightly on the bed, sending a rush of blood back to Jimin’s cock and making him impossibly hard. He watched with bated breath as your chest rose and fell rapidly, the nipple clamps jingling with your actions, a visual indicator of the amount of pleasure your body was facing. Once your orgasm receded, he quickly turned off the toy and replaced it with his mouth, swallowing your cum and treating it almost with reverence.

“Daddy.” You croaked, voice almost gone due to the number of moans and whines that had left your throat just a few moments ago. Even though you had just experienced one of the best orgasms of your life, you wanted more – you wanted him. “Want you.”

“Are you sure you can handle another one, Y/N?” He asked seriously, not wanting to push you further than you could physically go. You nodded excitedly, pulling on the handcuffs to show how ready you were. He chuckled at your eagerness, taking off the clamps off of your nipples. They were puffy and sore, but your breasts welcomed the blood flow.

“Please fuck me.” You whispered, your cunt already clenching at the thought of being filled by Jimin’s cock. He smiled at you, his beauty taking your breath away as he stripped out of his jeans and boxers. His cock was already rock hard as it leaked pre-cum, the substance beading at the tip of his dusky pink head.

“Want my cock, baby?” He asked, positioning himself in-between your legs. You tried to reach out to him, wanting to align his dick at your entrance and watch how he pushed into your core, but the restraints that bound your wrists prevented that. That didn’t stop you from continuously tugging on the cuffs, the metal rattling against the bed post. “Keep acting like a little brat and I’ll leave you here the entire day.”

His threat immediately caused you to cease your actions, wanting nothing more than to feel him in you. Hearing the absence of you pulling on the restraints made him smirk up at you, knowing that you would probably do anything to have him in your cunt right now.

“So obedient.” He mused, leaning back and stroking his length to rile you up. “My baby will do anything for my cock, hmm? Such a dirty fucking slut for my cock.”

“Only for you, Daddy.” You promised, your breathing erratic due to seeing Jimin’s hand enclosed over his dick, lazily fisting the length. “Please fuck me. I need your cock in me.” He raised an eyebrow at you, still wanting to tease you despite being painfully hard. Your pussy clenched when he threw his head back in pleasure, fist pumping up and down his cock. “Jimin, please!”

“Is that how you talk to me?” He snapped, sliding his length into you as his hand tightened around your neck. Without giving you time to adjust to suddenly having his entire cock in you, he began to piston out of you, the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the room. Your eyes rolled back from the pleasure, the feeling of having his cock force open your walls and the feeling of his hand tightening around your neck making you lose all train of thought. “Answer me, you fucking brat!”

“Daddy!” You corrected; voice hoarse from being choked. His hand left your neck, instead using his hands to hold your hips at an angle so that he could go deeper. “I – I’m sorry, Daddy!”

Hot tears of pleasure ran down your face, the droplets falling to your chest. “You’re crying?” He scoffed, somehow making his hips rut into you faster, your tits moving from each powerful thrust. “Is my cock too much for you to handle?” He asked, thumbing your clit, bringing more tears of pleasure to your face. You shook your head at his question, showing him just how well you could take his dick. “Hmm, good girl. Such a good slut for my cock, huh? Take it all, baby. Take every fucking inch of me in this tight pussy.”

“Going to… Gonna cum.” You whimpered, feeling your pleasure reaching a precipice quickly. He groaned as he felt your walls hug his length even tighter due to your impending orgasm. His thumb continued to work quick, tight circles over your clit, the white-hot pleasure surging through your veins and setting off your climax. “Daddy!”

“Ah, fuck, Y/N!” Jimin moaned, your convulsing cunt bringing about his own orgasm. Your body arched off of the bed once again, your orgasm seemingly too intense for your body to handle. Your thighs trembled and a heat rushed up to your cheeks, sweat gleaming on your body. Jimin’s cock was coated in your cum, the sheer feeling of it causing him to shoot his hot cum deep in you. High pitched curses and moans left his plump lips, ropes of his cum coating your walls as both of you tried to control your heavy breathing.

Without pulling out of you, Jimin reached up and unlocked the handcuffs, throwing them onto the floor to join your long-forgotten clothes. Flipping you over so that you were laying on him, he kissed your raw wrists gently, despite both of your chests still heaving.

“Thank you, baby.” He murmured, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.”

“You were amazing, Jimin.” You said softly, enjoying the feeling of having his skin directly on your own. “I wouldn’t want this with anyone other than you.”

“I love you.” He blurted, unable to contain his feelings any longer. You sucked in a breath, not believing your own ears. It was the first time he had ever said something like this. “I know it’s been a journey and a half with me, teaching me how not to be some cold asshole, but God damn, I love you, Y/N. I can’t imagine a life without you; I don’t want to imagine a live without you.”

“I love you too, Jimin.” You replied, a smile creeping on your face as your heart fluttered. “I love you more than you will ever know.”

***

↳ a/n: so that was the first instalment of my colour series! I plan on doing a one shot for each member based on meanings of a specific colour. Please let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be tagged in the future one shots :)

#jimin smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts #jimin x reader #park jimin #au #bts fan fiction #bts imagines #smut

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elizabeethan · 4 years ago

Text

Spaces Between Us Chapter 13: You & I

The hardships of real life separated them six years ago, and Emma has been struggling to put that fact behind her ever since. But then, only after she’s convinced herself that she’s moved on and that her new life is enough, Killian Jones comes back.

A Captain Swan Modern AU

Complete

As my grandma used to say,"theyah." (she meant "there" and she would brush her hands together, but she had a very heavy a Maine accent)

Thank you to everyone who read this, and to everyone who commented, left kudos, liked it, reblogged it, sent flails.... you're the best!!

Thank you, as usual, to my beta and friend @the-darkdragonfly, and to @donteattheappleshook and @xhookswenchx for listening to my ramblings and helping me figure out the plot to this <3

Read the Rest

Read on Ao3

Read my Other Stuff

~~~~

His warm fingers tickle her awake, dancing delicately over the skin of her waist and making her giggle before she hisses at the bright sunlight stinging her eyes. “It’s too early for all that.”

“No it isn’t,” he argues, kissing a hot trail down her neck until his lips reach her breast. She swears she was wearing a shirt when she went to bed… “We’ve got to get up soon anyway.”

“Then why are you initiating what you're initiating?”

“I can be quick.”

She snorts, reaching her fingers into his thick hair and letting out an appreciative sound as he flicks his tongue over her nipple. “I’m sure you can.”

“Let me do my work in peace, please,” he chastises playfully as he drags his mouth down her stomach, tucking his fingers into the hem of her underwear and tugging them down her thighs.

“If you insist,” she sighs, letting her head fall back against the pillow and grounding herself as she scratches her fingers against his scalp.

He certainly does take his work seriously, succeeding in his promise to be quick and getting her ready for him in just a matter of minutes. She pulls on his hair a bit harder and he lifts his head, looking up at her with shiny lips and a glint in his eyes before he wipes his chin and crawls up her body slowly, peppering kisses along the way. “Already?” he asks when he reaches her ear, and she giggles.

“You promised to be quick, I thought you’d be pleased to know that you delivered.”

“Oh, I’m very pleased. If there’s one thing parenthood has taught me, it's how to get my lady love off in a jiffy.”

“Shut up,” she laughs, though the sound is cut off quickly when he plunges himself into her, nearly to the hilt before he pulls back out and slides in again, slowly this time. She groans in appreciation for the way he stretches her, hitting everywhere just right as he sets a steady pace.

“I love you,” he whispers against the shell of her ear, tracing his tongue over the sensitive skin just below. “So much.”

“I love you, too,” she whispers back breathlessly, then with a moan, “don’t stop.”

“You like it like this?” he asks, biting her skin and pushing into her at just the right angle.

She whimpers and nods, her nails clawing at his back. She’s so close already, his mouth bringing her halfway there before they’d even started, and when he reaches his fingers between them where she needs him the most, she cries out again.

“There,” she begs, her legs shaking as she holds him in place. “Oh, fuck, right there.”

When he whispers, “come for me,” with his tone commanding and gentle, there's little she can do but obey him.

He’s heavy on top of her, her chest heaving beneath him, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She loves being here with him more than just about anything. The way he kisses her cheek over and over while they catch their breath makes her heart flutter more.

“You don’t actually have to go, right?” she asks jokingly as she runs her fingers up and down his back. “You’re actually just going to work? Won’t Will be mad if you miss a day, Mr. Mechanic?”

With a laugh and another kiss to her cheek at the charming nickname she gave him when his friend hired him to work in his garage, he answers, “I bloody well better go. I promised Ruby I’d be there and I certainly don't want to be on her bad side.” She giggles, though he continues, “and I want to watch that bastard get exactly what he deserves.”

She nods, letting out a long, steady breath. Walsh’s trial is today, and while Killian isn’t allowed to testify because of his relationship with the victim-- her-- Ruby has a lot to say about that evening. At first, there was talk of Killian being unfit to serve and having made irresponsible choices because of his emotional connection with Emma. But after Ruby’s accounts of that night and the body camera footage, it was clear that he acted as appropriately as he ever has. Walsh shot first, and the sheriff responded using non-lethal force. And besides, Killian left the force on his own accord, anyway.

At first, she was almost angry that he’d lived. Part of her wanted the surgeons to let him die; another part of her wanted Killian to have taken a better shot. But he was shot himself, so the fact that he got him in the shoulder was pretty damn good. Plus, Walsh will never be able to fully use his arm again.

And… he’s probably going to jail for a long time. Which would be cool, considering the amount of times he’s been beaten up already.

“There’s too much going on in there,” he murmurs, kissing her temple. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”

With a shrug, she says, “just thinking about what happened. It’s been a long eight months.”

He hums. “Aye, it has. Hasn’t been so bad, though.”

“No,” she agrees softly. “But I’ll be glad when this whole trial thing is over. Maybe we can finally leave this place.”

“Are you implying that you aren’t a fan of my apartment?” he asks through feigned offence. “I find it to be quite quaint.”

“Oh, it’s quaint,” she giggles. “I just feel bad making Henry sleep in a closet.”

“It’s not a closet! I pay extra for two bedrooms!”

With a soft smile, she cups his cheek in her palm and says, “I’m sorry, my love, but that is a walk-in closet.”

He rolls his eyes, then rolls off of her and offers her his hand to hoist her off the bed. “Soon we can get him a nice big bedroom, promise. Once the trial’s over, there’s nothing holding us here.”

It’s true. While they haven’t fully talked about where they’ll end up when all is said and done, Walsh signed the divorce papers from his cell a few weeks ago. And with the pre-nup null and void, Emma took her half of his fortune and donated it to an organization that supports victims of domestic violence and their children.

“Henry’s appointment is at ten, right?”

“Yeah,” she nods. Starting him up with Archie has been a blessing. Emma had a lot of fears that he would handle the transitions with difficulty, but with Dr. Hopper’s help, he’s been well adjusted, and she couldn’t be prouder.

They struggled with how to tell him about his father, but she never wants to lie to him. They moved out of their old house with haste, grabbing everything they could as quickly as possible so that Emma wouldn’t have to be there for a second longer than she had to. And while Henry was confused, he didn’t seem overly upset. He enjoyed living with the sheriff for a few days, even creating a comfortable nook for Abby, before they sat him down and told him everything.

When Emma told her son that the man who’s been in his life all along isn’t actually his father, she thought he would be upset. In reality, though, he simply shrugged and asked if Killian’s house had macaroni and cheese.

When Emma told her son who his real father is, a few days after they moved in with him for both safety and stability, he cheered and gave Killian the biggest hug she’s ever seen him give anyone.

She still can’t think about that day without crying.

“So Sherrie is actually my dad?”

Emma nods. “Yes, baby. I’m sorry that this is so confusing.”

He ignores her sentiment and asks, “and I can call him daddy?”

“You can call him anything you want.”

Turning towards Killian, he asks again, “can I call you daddy?”

The look on his face is so heartbreaking that Emma’s tears flow freely. Killian looks up at his son, meeting his eyes with glassy ones, and nods. “I’d love that.”

“Have you got one as well?” he asks, shaking her from her memories as she wipes away a rogue tear.

“Wednesday. You’re okay to watch Henry in the morning, right?”

“It’s not exactly babysitting, Swan,” he reminds her gently, and she grins at the name he uses and the fact that it’s finally her name again.

“I know, but…”

“Go and see Ingrid on Wednesday, love. I’m glad you’re still finding it beneficial to talk with her.”

Honestly, finding a therapist who happens to have experience working with victims of domestic violence in this small town was a surprise to Emma, but she’s found her work with Ingrid to be invaluable. While she’s known all along that what happened wasn’t her fault, and that she shouldn’t feel guilty about what she and her son went through for all those years, it’s been helpful to hear that from a professional as well. Ingrid reminded her that, while the physical abuse happened only near the end of their relationship, Emma was being emotionally abused the entire time she knew Walsh. She was trapped from the moment she met him, little by little being gaslighted until she believed that she would have nothing if she left him. As hard as it was for her to see how toxic he was at first, it was even harder to imagine leaving when she thought he had so much power over her.

The guilt that came with finding out she put herself and her child through that for nothing was unmatched. Her feelings and thoughts about herself as a mother, about how she failed to protect her son, are something she’s been battling for months and will likely never be able to fully let go of. Finding out that Killian is Henry’s father gave her the freedom to leave, but it also gave her the most traumatic experience of her life and brought endless feelings of self-hatred, and that’s something she’s been working on coming to terms with, slowly but surely.

“Alright,” she agrees, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as she walks past him towards the bathroom.

“I’ll go give him his nebulizer while you get ready.”

Stopping short in her path to the shower, she turns to him and smiles. “I love you.”

Returning her smile with his own, he says, “I love you, too, Swan.”

In eight months, he’s become more of a father than Walsh was Henry’s entire life.

~~~~

As he watches Walsh being escorted into the courtroom, donning his orange jumpsuit and shackles, Killian is reminded of the last time he saw the man who almost took everything from him. It was months ago, once he was finally transferred to the Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department’s jail cell. He was still clearly favoring his left arm, his right shoulder completely out of commission as a result of Killian’s rather good shot, and he felt a sick sense of accomplishment seeing the monster struggling to get comfortable on the firm cot with the sling wrapped around him.

“Need something?” he’d asked, although he wasn’t too chuffed to give the bastard anything that would take away his obvious malaise.

He scoffed and responded, “yeah, my pain meds would be nice. Are you always in the business of torture?”

“Aye,” Killian responded without thinking, then he stood up and walked to Walsh’s cell, keys in hand. “I suppose I am. But I really only focus on torturing the absolute most wretched inmates. Like you.”

Walsh shook his head and laughed, but Killian didn’t miss the look of fear in his eyes as he inserted the key and swung the cell door open, shutting it behind him. “Talk about protect and serve.”

Killian hummed in response and nodded as well as he moved to stand over Walsh’s cot, staring down into his eyes with anger, the strength of which he won’t ever feel again. “The fact is, mate, I couldn’t care less about my duties as the sheriff. Not when the safety and happiness of my son and the woman I love are on the line.” Walsh laughed once more and rolled his eyes, so Killian moved quickly to thrust his open hand down upon his neck, pressing just hard enough to make the animal’s eye pop from his head. “You threatened them. You tried to kill her. You neglected the child you thought was yours for his entire life. You are garbage; a waste of oxygen. Trust me when I tell you that I will do everything in my power to ensure that you never live to see the light of day. You will never take a breath outside of a barbed wire fence. You will never eat anything but the slop they feed you. You will never experience pleasure for as long as you live. And I promise you, you will live for decades in an iron cage, right where you belong.”

He was quiet for a moment as his cheeks started to turn red and his eyes grew wider, before he finally gruffed, “I can’t breathe.”

“Perfect,” Killian responded. “Then you know exactly how she felt. Count yourself lucky that I’m not going to try and shoot you again.”

He released his forceful grip, shoving Walsh down onto the cot as he took in a forceful breath, before he turned and locked the cell, walking back to his desk and collecting his things. When his shift ended, Killian Jones walked out of the Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department precinct for the final time.

~~~~

Henry’s birthday is definitely cause for celebration. He’s turning six. It’s the first time Killian will be able to celebrate his son’s birthday. He’s finally with his Emma, with nothing stopping them from being happy together. There’s a lot for his family to be happy about.

“Daddy!” Henry calls as he sprints at full speed towards his father. “Daddy, can I have cake yet?”

“No, not yet. You haven’t even touched your lunch. And don’t let your mother see you running wild like that.”

His more intensive therapies have been working as well as they can, but they know they have to be careful to avoid another serious attack-- one that might not end as well as the last had. Killian only just became a part of his son’s life. He doesn’t intend to lose him.

“But it’s my birthday,” he complains, rolling his eyes and giving him a look that could rival his mother’s.

“Your birthday isn’t until Monday.”

“Well, it’s my tarty.”

“Your party.”

“I think I wanna ask mommy.”

Killian chuckles. “If mommy doesn’t tell you to wait until after lunch, I’ll give you five dollars.”

His eyes light up and widen immediately, cloudy gray perfectly complimenting the black pupils as he turns from him and runs straight for the door. He watches from the deck as Henry begs and pleads with his mother, giving her his best bambi eyes, before he sees her nod, the lad jumping for joy and shrinking excitedly. He runs towards the sliding door and pounds his fists against it, shouting through the glass, “you owe me five dollars!”

With a sigh, Killian brushes past his son, ruffling his hair just a bit, before he wraps both arms around Emma’s waist, pulling her in for a hug from behind. “You really got me there, Swan.”

“Did I?” she asks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She leans back into his chest, turning her head so that she can press a soft kiss to his jaw. “No? Are you telling me our son didn’t inform you of my poorly-made offer?”

With a giggle, she answers, “of course he did. That’s what you get for trying to negotiate with our six year old.”

He squeezes her a bit tighter, reveling in their loneliness in the kitchen. “He’s still five,” he reminds her, content to never let him grow up.

“Yes,” she hums. “And what a big difference the two days will make.”

He pushes his lips against her cheek and says, “I’m afraid he’s getting too old. We’ll have to return him soon.”

“And what,” she laughs, “trade him in for a newer model?”

“Aye, that’s the price of fatherhood most men aren’t willing to pay. But I’m not like those other men.”

She doesn’t need to be facing him for him to know that she rolls her eyes. “You are absolutely ridiculous.”

“--ly in love with you,” he corrects. She does spin around now, turning to face him and burying her face in his neck as her arms hold him in her iron grip. “What is it?” he whispers into her hair more seriously.

“Nothing,” she responds softly. “I’m just… happy. It still surprises me sometimes. That we’re here and celebrating our son’s birthday together; that nothing’s stopping us.”

“Aye, love, me too,” he agrees, running his hands up and down along the contours of her spine. “I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“You won’t ever have to,” she reminds him with a smile as she pulls away just enough to look at him. “We won.”

He grins down at her, running his thumb along her cheek as he holds her jaw with his palm. With her ex-husband being found guilty on all charges, his life sentence without the possibility for parole means they’ll never be apart again. “Yes, my love,” he says, leaning down to kiss her chastely. “Let’s simply avoid the scorned husbands and attempts on both of our lives in the future, aye?”

She agrees with a nod. “Yes, that sounds like a good plan. Fucking idiot got exactly what he deserved, though.”

He laughs and says, “as eloquently put as always. I couldn’t agree more.”

As it turns out, the prosecution lawyer was very experienced and was able to use Walsh’s statements of intent to kill his wife, as well as the loaded gun pointed directly at her and at the sheriff, to prove two counts of attempted second degree murder, plus assault with a deadly weapon, plus domestic violence, plus election fraud, plus embezzelment. Suffice it to say, Walsh won’t be seeing much daylight for quite some time.

Of course, the honorable man in Killian almost thought that sending his mistress’s husband to jail for life as a means to be with her was taking the cheap way out, but he got over those feelings very quickly. It’s not about Killian being with Emma, after all. Not really.

As their son laughs raucously on the swing set with his cousin, he sees exactly what it’s about.

“I suppose we should do the cake,” Emma finally sighs, lifting her head

“I suppose,” he concedes, squeezing her tighter in his hold and pressing a kiss to her temple.

~~~~

The afternoon rolls into evening, everyone finding a lawn chair or chaise lounge to relax in as David starts a fire and Mary Margaret prepares for an outdoor movie. Honestly, Killian’s son is spoiled with the grandeur of his sixth birthday party, with the giant white screen and the projector displaying The Good Dinosaur for all the children to enjoy.

Emma sighs happily as she leans back against Killian’s chest, taking his wrists in her hands and pulling his arms around her middle. She feels warm against him as the fire heats her skin and her sweatshirt, and he can’t get enough of the feeling of the weight of her body pressed to his own.

“I love you,” she finally whispers into the dark as the movie starts, the sounds enough to drown out her voice so that only Killian can hear.

“I love you, too,” he agrees softly, sentimentally, squeezing her just a bit tighter. “More than just about anything.”

“Just about?”

He hums out a laugh and nods. “I’m afraid I love our son just a tiny bit more than you. That’s normal, right?”

“Yes,” she agrees softly, turning to face him and pressing a kiss to his neck. “I’m afraid I love our kids more than you, too.”

He smiles and laughs lightly against her, returning her soft kiss with one of his own as he sighs and looks on at their son happily enjoying his special day. “Wait,” he says as it finally dawns on him; the specific wording she chose and the coy smile she dons through a giggle. “Kids?”

She hums in agreement, nodding against his chest and pulling his arms tighter around herself until his palm is pressed to her stomach. “I found out this morning.”

“Emma,” he breathes, unable to comprehend her meaning.

“I was thinking if it’s a boy, we could name him after your brother. At least his middle name. Thoughts?”

“Emma,” he tries again, separating his arms and pulling away only far enough to help her turn towards him. “Are you…”

“Shh,” she insists, pressing her finger to his lips and grinning at him and she turns to face him head on. Then she whispers, “it’s a secret. I’m pregnant.”

He can’t breathe, a shocked sound coming out of his mouth as he leans towards her and captures her lips in his. She grins against him, holding onto the neck of his sweatshirt to pull him impossibly closer to herself. “You’re sure?”

“I’ll call the doctor on Monday to make an appointment, but I took three tests. All positive.”

“Fuck,” he breathes almost silently, trying hard not to alert those around them of their shift in mood but finding it near impossible. “Fuck, I love you. I thought…”

She shakes her head, cradling the back of his neck in her hands as she answers his silent question. “I probably never would’ve been ready,” she explains. They’ve talked about it in passing, and she’s insisted that her last pregnancy was difficult and that she’s still recovering from the trauma she’s endured and is therefore unable to consider the possibility of having another child. “If I had a say, I probably would’ve kept putting it off,” she whispers. “But… surprise.” She shrugs and grins at him.

He kisses her, because he can think of no other way to express his feelings towards her than to show her what she means to him. There are no words to tell her exactly what she’s given him, not just now, but every second he’s known her. No words, except, “marry me.”

She giggles breathlessly, the air escaping her lips hitting the tip of his nose as she gasps, “what?”

With a grin, he responds more seriously, “marry me. Please.” He clears his throat and tries again. “Emma Swan-- love of my life, mother of my children-- will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“You’re serious?” she breathes softly, careful not to alert the other parents present of the sudden shift between them. “You know I just got divorced, like, two months ago.”

“Aye, but I should've asked you to marry me seven years ago. The divorce is merely semantics.”

She laughs breathlessly again, disbelievingly, and nods her head before pulling him close to her. “Yes,” she whispers against him before pressing a passionate, if not also chaste, kiss to his lips. He can tell that she wants to deepen it, perhaps she wants to take him inside and show him how excited she is, but they're at their son’s birthday party and they have to keep things G-Rated. PG; nothing higher. “Yes,” she says again. Then once more, “yes, I’ll marry you.”

Andrew Liam Jones was born seven months later. He was monitored closely throughout Emma’s pregnancy to ensure proper development of his lungs, and when he was born, he screamed like a banshee to alert his parents of his healthy arrival. He weighed seven pounds, three ounces, and was twenty-one inches long. His big brother, newly renamed Henry David Jones following an amendment to his birth certificate, refused to leave the baby’s side until he fell asleep, needing to be carried out of the maternity suite by his uncle while his parents took in the bliss and terror of having a new life to care for.

Emma and Killian were married two months after the arrival of their second child, the small ceremony taking place on the secluded, rocky beach in Storybrooke, Maine. At first, Killian wanted to remove his family from the hellish town that nearly stole his life away from him, but she disagreed. This was where they were reunited. This was where they found each other again. This was where she found herself again. It’s where her children were born and raised. So, when she finds a beautiful, blue victorian style home on the outskirts of town and cries at how perfect it is for their family, at how close she would be to her sister, they place an offer. And they win.

They won when they found each other again and they know that they will never lose at anything ever again so long as they have each other.

~~~~

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor

#captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan au #spaces between us #spaces ff #cs fluff #cs smut

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hedgiwithapen · 3 years ago

Note

How about the Leverage Crew arriving in Central City in time for the that time Barry got accused of murdering DeVoe. Basically, Leverage Crew (Classic or Redeption is your choice) meddling in that plan. Because screw DeVoe. Can be in the same universe as The Central City job, or a brand new AU; your choice.

this one Long The courthouse was packed when a sleek black van pulled up to a loading zone. Nathan Ford turned from the passenger seat. “You all know the play?” “Mm, yup,” Parker said, clipping a badge to her blazer pocket. “The Boston skip.” “It’s not the Boston Skip,” Hardison snapped, fussing with his tie.. “You’re just grumpy because you have to play the lawyer again.” Eliot smirked. “Hey, you said only if it comes to a cross examine, I did my job, if you all do your jobs right and it doesn’t come to that,” Hardison’s voice pitched upwards. “If?” Sophie put on the emergency break. “If? Hardison, I’m hurt.” “Soph,” Nate sighed. “Let it go.” “For now. We’re having words later,” Sophie insisted. “Can we just get this over with?” Eliot asked, maneuvering to take the driver’s seat. “ you know I don’t like us splitting up like this.” “It’ll only be for a bit,” Parker said, squeezing his hand. “ We’ll be fine.” They left the van in twos, first Parker and hardison, briefcase and extraneous computer in hand, and a minute or two later Sophie and Nate followed-- and Nate with a plain folder tucked under his arm. Eliot drove in the direction of the police station, ready for the next phase of the plan. They hadn’t exactly called ahead, but that wasn’t going to be much of a problem. Cisco Ramon was the first to spot them. He goggled a bit. “What are you doing here?” he asked as Hardison approached the bench where Team Flash had congregated. Hardison smiled, knowing the prosecutor was watching. “I came to offer my services,” he said, sending a quick text with a thought. “ Where is Ms Horton?” “Here,” the short woman said, her eyes cutting between the two as Cisco checked his phone. “ Who are you? Cisco, who is--” Cisco looked up from the message--you didn’t see us coming?-- and relaxed slightly for the first time in weeks. “I’m part of Mr. Allen’s legal team,” Hardison smiled wide. “He’s ok, Cecile,” Cisco vouched. “ He and his, uh, coworkers have helped us in the past. With Z--wait, that was before you. Um.” “My firm helped get Henry Allen some money, after that unfortunate mess. And we’re here to see justice through again.” He hesitated. “ Or pick up where it leaves off,” he said under his breath. Cecile took in a sharp breath. “When did we hire you?” “Uh--” “Cecile, it’s really ok,” Caitlin joined the cluster. “They know about STAR. And apparently about the recent… developments.” “You think we don’t keep tabs on your crazy city? Now, Ms. Horton, as your co-lawyer, we need to discuss strategy. I’ve got some character witnesses I’d like to introduce, some crucial evidence that needs to be submitted, is there an office we might use?” He steered her away, nodding to Parker, deep in conversation with the prosecutor.

“You let that jerk stick around?” Iris jumped when she heard the voice in her ear. Turning she sighed with recognition. “ Lilli--Sophie?” “In the flesh.” She smiled. “I can’t stay long, but Eliot wanted me to ask.” Iris sighed. “If it’s Eliot asking, I guess you mean Harry. He’s been a lot better since Eliot kicked his ass, that’s for sure. And he has been helpful.” “I’m sure,” Sophie sounded anything but sure. “Listen, we’ve got this pretty well handled, but you and your friends may wish to be ready in case of reprisals. Have you upgraded security lately?” “Cisco’s worked on it,” Iris confirmed. “Good. Hardison would love to take a look, later. We’re probably going to be in the area, we’ve had word something’s fishy at that prison of yours.” When Iris opened her mouth Sophie shook her head. “Iron Heights. Point is, we’ll be around should you need anything.” “Thank you for the offer,” Iris said. She shook her head. “ These people are smart, Sophie. Dangerous.” “Not compared to my team,” Sophie smiled. “Save your worry. Look, see? Hardison’s in place, and Parker’s in the wings. I’ve got to go take care of my part. If you see your husband, let him know, will you?” “I-- sure,” Iris said, and she watched as Sophie stood and walked into a crowd. An entirely different person made her way past a bailiff and into the Juror’s box, leaning over to the man beside her and nodding in the direction of the door Barry Allen had just been escorted through. As Iris stood to take his hand across the gap between his seat and the benches, Sophie gave a little nod to the two of them. “It is strange,” the man said. “But I don’t think we’re meant to discuss the case until we’re in the back.” “Of course not,” Sophie said. “I was just thinking about it, is all. If it were a scene in a mystery novel, I’d call it too obvious.” “You do have a point,” the man agreed. “I’m actually a novelist myself.” “You don’t say,” Sophie smiled. “Classic red herring, am I right? And what a story. Two men in the same family accused of nearly identical murders…” She tapped her com, giving a quick signal. Nate was up. “Ah, a quick word?” Nate stepped away from the wall, flagging down Mrs. DeVoe and her companion. “No,” she snapped, putting on what Nate could see was a reasonably convincing mask of Grieving Widow. Convincing to a mark, maybe. But the Mako was right--you can’t con a conman. “Vultures, all of you.” “Oh, I’m not a reporter.” Nate said easily. He nodded to the tall man at Marlize’s Elbow. “Mr. DeVoe, I’m sure you’ll want to hear what I have to say.” He was pleased to see shock cross the face of Dominic Lanse. The man grabbed him by the arm, yanking him into an empty room. Mrs. DeVoe followed, locking it behind her. “Just so you are aware, there is video footage of you dragging me in here,” Nate said in his most helpful voice. “In case you decide to kill me here, probably not your smartest move.” he glanced around. “Private, though. Good.” He gave his signature infuriating grin. “Make this quick,” Clifford said in Dominic’s voice. “Court begins soon.” “Right, well, that’s going to be your problem.” Nate shrugged. “ Let’s skip the pleasantries. I know everything, about your plan at least. Your computer banks! Normal people couldn’t even find them, so you’ve got that going for you, though the security is lacking once you get past that, so B+. I am not Normal People. I have the best hacker in the multiverse, though, so,” he clicked his tongue in mock dismay, “like I said, my team and I --I’m sure you’re trying to think of who we are right now--know everything.” Marlize glanced at her silent watch, frowning. “Oh, no, no, I’m not a meta.” Nate shook his head. “But the thing is, I don’t have to be to destroy you.” “What--” “Again. I know everything, Thinker. Your basement prison, your hidden files, what you want with that satellite… you really shouldn’t have written everything down… twice even.” He fished a small book out of his pocket, and let them see the plain cover. Clifford’s eyes darkened. “That’s mine.” “Yeah, well, I also have the

multiverse’s greatest thief.” “Our home is under police protection and surveillance. There are officers--” “There right now, I’m aware.” Eliot Spencer, clutching a cup of coffee in one hand, flashed a badge at the pair of officers standing by a door. “Any trouble?” “Nope. She just left for the courthouse. Some work, huh? Just standing here.” “Hmm.“ Eliot agreed. “Though I guess if something did happen, the Flash would swoop in.” “Nine times out of ten,” the first officer agreed. “Or one of his buddies. “ “Maybe 8 times,” the second officer shrugged. “ You new?” “Just transferred from Keystone.” Eliot said. “Not so much nonsense there.” “I hear that. Good to have the backup though.” Eliot nodded. “ You do a walk through?” “Uh, no…. Like I said, no trouble, officer-- “Ted Crichton,” Eliot interrupted. “You haven’t walked through? What if someone’s in there, waiting to assault Mrs. DeVoe when she gets back?” “Well, uh, we don’t have a warrant--” “For crying out loud--” Eliot pulled a paper from his pocket. “See? Now let's go. You stay out here. Who has the back-- does no one have the back door? “ The officers hurried inside. “Don’t forget to check the closets,” Eliot called. -- “ Like I said. Best thief. Best hacker. Now, honestly--and you can run the numbers-- your best bet would be to cut your losses right here, right now. You’re already lying on the stand, so say you were coerced into implicating Mr. Allen--if you need someone to blame I do have a list of patsys that really need the jail time. You do that, put your little plan,” he waggled the book “ back in the box or write it up as the next dystopian best seller for High School English classes to dissect for decades to come, and you can walk away from this.” A laugh. “No one will believe anything you say. That book can’t be traced to me, and even if it could be, it doesn’t prove anything. So someone thinks I’m a supervillain. I’m dead. You have nothing that proves Mr. Allen innocent. You’re out of your mind, Mr. Ford.” “Oh good, you know who I am. Think a little harder.” “As threats go, it’s half baked,” Marlize challenged. “What are you going to do if we refuse? Break Allen out of jail so he can be a fugitive? He’d never go along with it. And the Flash can’t stop us.” “I’d run those numbers again, you’ve left out quite a few variables. But no.” “No?” “If you refuse, if you keep up your little game, lie on the stand, sell that sob story, maybe you're right and the Flash can’t stop you. But he doesn’t need to. I’ll destroy you.” “You.” It was not a question. “For someone claiming to be the smartest man in the world, I’m a bit worried about your memory. I said it already--I’m not here alone. But be my guest. Tell your lies. Right about now the Jury is thinking about what an embarrassment to the city Henry Allen’s trial was and how closely this resembles it… the similarities, the way the timelines don’t quite match up… “ “Really? You’re trying to convince the jury to ignore evidence and go with their hearts? A pathos appeal? That’s not going to work. There’s less than a 3% chance of that even ending in a mistrial, much less acquittal.” “I’m sure that’s what your numbers said,” Nate smiled yet again, this time sharklike. “Cute. I bet you think it’s difficult to get assigned jury duty. “ “It-- we checked all the names. We know--” “You know who they are, yes, yes. But you don’t know who we are. Another sloppy mistake. Now, the jury’s, you're right, not a total slam dunk. So, right now the prosecutor is getting word of some new evidence from a very well respected FBI agent about how helpful the Flash and Mr Allen have both been in assisting with a case against a known human trafficker--you know her, Ammunet Black. The one you bought your puppet from. FBI picked her up…mmm, ten minutes ago? And she had some very interesting things to say. You can guess what they were. Add to that the evidence--” “What evidence?” “The wire transfers between you and Ms. Black. In December and a few days ago. We didn’t even have to fake that first one, but even if the second

one looks a little fishy, the fact that--” “Nate, we got him,” crackled Eliot’s voice in his ear. “--the police just found a metahuman locked in your hall closet--Weeper, I think is what Ms. Black called him-- should make things clear. He wasn’t thrilled about having to stick around much longer but your basement is pretty hard for normal people to find so we had to nudge that a bit. But hey, you’re all for planting evidence. Anyways, court’s in ten minutes…. but the police will be arresting you in about three, if my math’s right-- care to check?-- so I can make this very quick. We have video of you threatening the Flash, holding him prisoner the same night as that wire transfer, proof of Dominic’s powers and sale--my hacker thanks you for all those cameras and bugs, by the way, made his job much easier-- and you add that all up and it sure looks like you got upset at the Flash and Allen for poking into your meta trafficking and decided a frame up was in order.” Nate hefted the folder, “and then there’s this.” “And what,” Marlize asked, shaking with rage, “ is that?” “A copy of files that will be delivered to the FBI, NSA and Dean of Husdson University if you don’t admit to the frame up.” Nate said, thumbing through them. “Proof that you, Mrs. DeVoe, fed information to certain entities across Africa and the Middle East where you were doing your research and aid work to assist in their terror attacks and human trafficking--ties in quite nicely to your work with Ammunet, if I do say so myself. And proof that the “late” Mr. DeVoe plagiarized his thesis, his dissertation, even the syllabi for his classes.” “Lies. No one will believe any of--” “Oh, it’s all very well forged. Except for the bit about the Syllabi. For shame.” Nate tutted. “And part of the dissertation. Can they take away a PH.d posthumously? Anyways, even if it wasn’t, do you really think that no one would believe a man who thinks that giving everyone on the planet late stage Alzheimer’s is going to solve famine and illness? What kind of legitimate history teacher doesn’t know about cholera or the effects of the agricultural revolution? Every lie has a kernel of truth to it.” Nate glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, that certainly was enlightening. And before you decide to simply kill me, run your little calculations with one more variable: Eliot Spencer.” DeVoe’s brow furrowed and what little color he had drained from his face. “ That’s what I thought. Three.. Two.. one.” Nate raised his voice. “ Help! I’m in here!” The door crashed from its hinges. “The Gloat is the best part,” Parker, FBI badge swinging, put an arm over Barry’s shoulders. He stood with Iris next to her and Eliot as the DeVoes were hauled away. “You know, I think I might have to agree,” Iris said, squeezing Barry’s hand. “Or second best, at least,” she added meaningfully. “So… what now?” Joe asked. “I mean, there’s still… the red tape, but… do we need to be worried? Don’t they still have--” “Oh, that sick chair and computer set up?” Hardison asked with a smirk. “I want it.” Harry announced. “When did you get here?” Hardison asked, affronted. -- Parker held up her badge as she pushed the crate up a ramp into Lucille. “Special Agent Hagen! Let me help you with that,” Agent McSweeten said, taking the dolley handle from her. Parker beamed, patting the side, careful not to dislodge the panel on the side. “Thanks!” -- “Anyways, you can’t just call dibs. You’re too late,” Hardison added, giving Parker a fistbump. “We stole it.”

#dammit hedgi day 2021 #leverage #the central city job #the flash

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calitraditionalism · 3 years ago

Text

Arc Three: Chapter Nine

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Fernstar?”

The little leader blinked hard, trying to get the blur of sleepiness out of her eyes, and looked up at Viceroyclaw.

“We ought to rest a bit,” she murmured, her wide head close to Fernstar’s to keep their conversation private. “It’s been daylight for a while now, and…”

“I know.” Fernstar sighed and looked behind her. Her collective of Fleet cats, from the powerful patrollers to the scrawny scouts, were boldly following after her, but she could see that they were just as exhausted as she was.

As clearly as her tiredness would allow, she announced, “We’ll stop for a few hours. Let’s get as much sleep as we can before we continue. The trail is still fresh.”

There was a collective sigh of relief. Fernstar stopped a few steps away, where a smooth stone allowed her to climb onto it as a perch. She nodded to everyone, and they all barely took more than a step before curling up where they were, eyes shutting at a record pace. Even Fogpetal only did a quick scan of their surroundings before lying down herself. Viceroyclaw jumped onto the stone with Fernstar, lying close enough that their fur brushed. Fernstar didn’t even acknowledge her guard – drowsiness muffled her thoughts, and she swiftly fell asleep.

When she awoke again, she felt much more alert, but she frowned. Something had scratched at the back of her mind in her sleep, just beyond her hearing, and she wasn’t sure what it was.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Boarpaw was walking past her and paused to rear up a little and meet her at eye level. “You had a bad dream or somethin’?”

Fernstar squinted, focusing, then shook her head. “It’s nothing. Where’s Viceroyclaw?”

“She went huntin’ with Glorypelt and Newtbite. Said they’d be back soon.”

“Good.” Fernstar glanced sideways. The rest of the Fleet were still asleep in the midday sun, which she could see was slowly drying the dew and mud. The warmth sank through her fur and eradicated the last of her shivers. She stretched and yawned. “If you’re tired, you can keep sleeping.”

“Oh, no, ma’am, I’m fine,” Boarpaw said quickly, standing tall. “I was keepin’ watch, ‘case someone came up on us.”

Fernstar gave him a patiently amused smile. “We’re the ones ‘coming up’ on someone.”

Boarpaw looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet, voice quieter. “Well, just bein’ sure.”

“Rest a little more, Boarpaw,” Fernstar ordered in about as gentle of a voice as she could. “We’ll be fine.”

Boarpaw shuffled again, opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, then nodded sheepishly and walked away, lying down with his fellow Fleet members. Fernstar restrained a chuckle when she heard him start snoring mere moments later.

The wind picked up a little, parting Fernstar’s fur and sending ripples through the grass in the flatland they were resting in. Fernstar watched the shimmering waves, contemplating whether to sleep again herself or to wait for the hunting patrol to return.

Entirely too soon, her thoughts turned to the current mission, and that disappointed hurt clutched at her heart again. Memories of Redheart as an apprentice directing adults in hunts or solving disputes for her juniors almost made Fernstar’s smile return. When Redheart’s mother had died, she’d gone through a change in activity. Not that she hadn’t been a hard worker before, but suddenly she was foregoing sleep to handle problems and somehow transforming the rowdy Clast cats into a respectable family – or about as respectful as they could get while still getting to wrestle for fun. Fernstar hadn’t waited more than a month or two after her naming ceremony before appointing her as the new deputy, and no one had been surprised. There had, of course, been arguments that Redheart was too young, but anyone who’d known her for even a week knew that she was the best choice. Everyone expected her to become leader one day. So had Fernstar.

So what changed?

Try as she might, Fernstar couldn’t figure it out. Going from being a loyal member of the Clan, working up the ranks to eventual leadership, to recruiting cats to leave the Territory with no end goal stated… there wasn’t a connection that she could think of. Redheart had always been sensible and collected, and she had always made it known that she believed in building a better future for the next generation. Abandoning the safest place in the known world (small as the world was) with expecting queens and apprentices in tow was the complete opposite. It just didn’t make sense.

What also didn’t make sense was the sudden turning of the spies. Mistface, at least, Fernstar could understand. He and Greyleaf were in a very tightly bonded family – Mistface had only been recruited because he was the one cat Greyleaf would trust above anyone else, except perhaps their mother. But the others had no reason to ditch their post and follow Redheart wherever she had gone. Laurelclaw was a very meek, peaceful boy, and Beetlefoot was dedicated to his role as a member of the Fleet. Neither of them seemed like the types to run off.

The really odd one was Darkpelt. Fernstar was very familiar with the spy. She was crafty and practical, and took great pleasure in her work. She had been used by the leaders plenty of times, dropping by to give them reports of troublemakers or ambitious deputies to watch out for. Any cat that hired her to find out information would find their time well spent and the price of prey and herbs easy to hand over. She barely ever demanded payment anyway; she just loved being a secret pair of ears.

This sort of cat did not seem to be the sort to foolishly walk off after a wanted molly. Someone in Clast had recalled overhearing her mention that she ‘had a job to do’, but as far as Fernstar was concerned, her mission was completed. All she needed to do was give her report and then wait for the investigation to be done, potentially followed by a trial (which was now almost certain, as much as Fernstar hated to admit it). Darkpelt had never lingered on spying before. She’d release her information to the leaders and leave it at that until she was called back.

What had Redheart said or done that was so compelling that this particular spy wanted to follow her? Was there something she hadn’t told the others, or the leaders?

“Fernstar.”

Fernstar flinched out of her contemplation. Viceroyclaw had managed to get almost in her face without her noticing, front paws on the stone she rested on, a ground squirrel in her jaws.

“I brought you something,” Viceroyclaw mumbled around the prey.

“Oh-“ Fernstar sat up. “Thank you. Did you catch something for yourself?”

Viceroyclaw nodded at something on the ground. She placed the squirrel at Fernstar’s feet before ducking down and retrieving a much smaller mouse.

Fernstar managed to not snort. “I think this squirrel would be better suited for you.”

Viceroyclaw blinked, confused, before glancing down at the squirrel which was a third of Fernstar’s size and murmuring, “Ohhh…” She replaced the squirrel with the mouse and climbed onto the stone, sitting across from her leader and tucking in quietly.

The two ate for a bit, Fernstar observing the other two hunters waking up their friends with lunch. She waited until she had finished her meal and Viceroyclaw was slowing down on hers before speaking.

“I just can’t understand,” she said. “This whole situation is so bizarre.”

Viceroyclaw hummed and looked up with her eyes, an indication that she was listening as she continued chewing.

“It seems to have come out of nowhere,” Fernstar went on, half to herself. “Redheart isn’t like this. And Darkpelt and her team leaving with her…” She looked at her high deputy. “Do you have any ideas why this is happening?”

Viceroyclaw chomped once, twice, swallowed, and cleared her throat. “No. But I don’t really think it matters, the ‘why’. She and Greyleaf did what they did. They should be punished for it.”

Fernstar’s face must have fallen, because Viceroyclaw hurried to add, “Or at least handled. Whatever you and the others decide to do.”

“Right,” Fernstar muttered. She looked back at the Fleet cats, who were all chatting while they ate. They were all so tightly bonded together – some would argue for them being even closer than any of the regular families’ members. She had no doubt that if one of them were in Redheart’s position, at least a few of these cats would follow them into the night. They were loyal that way.

But as far as Fernstar knew, there was no loyalty to anyone in the runaway group except Mistface to Greyleaf, and Greyleaf to him and Redheart. The apprentice, Littlepaw, was supposedly followed by her pseudo-mentor, so there was a connection there, but they didn’t have anything to do with any part of this. What part of a former seer’s dreams encouraged her to just walk off after an almost-certain-to-be criminal? Wouldn’t StarClan have told her to stay away from Redheart, if they still spoke with her?

Would they find other cats? Would they attempt to recruit evacuees again? Who would go with them anywhere?

A light flickered in Fernstar’s head.

She could think of at least one cat. Perhaps one that they were already on the way to collecting.

“Fogpetal!” she called.

The Fleet deputy raised her head up from the remains of her vole and stood up, excusing herself from the conversation she was in. She trotted up to the rock and silently stood at attention.

“Do you know if the Vultures have moved from their position?” Fernstar asked.

Fogpetal shook her head. “They should still be there. They have kits to raise, from what I heard.”

“Good.” Fernstar was surprised by her own sigh of relief. “Then I want two of these cats to make their way over to their camp and guard Greyleaf’s mother. Her name is Nettlecloud – she’s a grey, elderly molly.”

“Oh.” Fogpetal’s eyes widened in realization. “I see. I can have them collect more guards on the way there, if you’d like.”

“That would be good,” Fernstar said. “Send whoever you think is appropriate. Whoever can at least hold back a healer and his Scattered brother.”

“That shouldn’t be hard,” Fogpetal said, joking.

Fernstar narrowed her eyes. “We may be surprised.”

Fogpetal immediately went serious again, dipped her head in respect, and returned to her party. Fernstar heard her speaking to them and giving orders. In a moment, a grey-brown tom named Thrashercloud and the tortoiseshell Newtbite set off at a loping canter, calling their 'goodbye's and 'good luck's to the others. Fernstar could respect that they didn’t waste any time.

Fogpetal looked back at Fernstar. “Shall we keep moving?”

“Yes.” Fernstar got up. “Before this trail dries up. Everyone ready?”

The Fleet cats immediately followed after their deputy, all confirming that they were good to go. Fernstar didn’t waste any time either – she jumped off of the stone, Viceroyclaw right next to her, and looked at an approaching Boarpaw.

“Can you track a scent?” she asked.

“Oh, of course!” Boarpaw brightened up, looking much more awake. “Me and my mentor, we can do it.”

“Then the two of you will run south, ahead of us, and make sure the trail doesn’t turn anywhere.”

“Right away.” Boarpaw immediately took off at a run, his pale ginger mentor jogging after him with a slightly frazzled smile to Fernstar.

“The rest of you, follow me,” she said to the patrol, and walked forward, ignoring a pang of guilt. “We have hunting to do.”

#warrior cats #steorra #arc three #chapter #chapter nine #fernstar #viceroyclaw #glorypelt #newtbite #fogpetal #boarpaw

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

Where you should be

Chapter 2: Tacenda

Genre: Hobi x oc

Warnings: this series contains stalking, blackmail, and similar stressful/fear inducing situations. Also unrequited love, which is perhaps the most terrifying of all.

Word Count: 3.4k

Tacenda (n.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence

February 2019 - Continued.

“No.”

One syllable. A thousand pound weight pressing down on me.

Hoseok turns away before I can see if he believes me or not, his attention honing in on a black SUV that belongs to the company. A moment later, Do-yun is hopping out of the car with a deathly serious expression on his face.

I remain in the car when Hoseok gets out to speak with him, leaning up against the hood with his arms crossed. Their conversation is muffled, but I can still hear them clearly.

Do-yun is supposed to go back to the apartment to grab some necessities; and also do some snooping.

They’re speaking about the entire experience, Do-yun needs to know exactly what went down in order to understand if the people he’s supposed to protect have a new stalker. I never realized that his services could extend to me.

Leaning forward in my seat, I drop my head into my hands and close my eyes. It’s all too easy for my thoughts to drown out the sound of the conversation taking place just outside.

“Have you seen him before?” “No.”

Why couldn’t I just stick with a generic, ‘I don’t know’? Because the reality of the situation is simple: I really don’t. I have no idea who he is. Have I seen him before? Honestly, I might have. I might not have.

He’s only ever worn his hood and a mask before.

There’s no denying his aura, though. The man emits a certain dangerous air about him that has the majority of my apartment complex sticking together in groups of two or more. I just never thought that he would be after me.

Then again, maybe he’d heard about a certain idol dropping off a girl several times a week, and thought he should check it out. After all, Hoseok and the rest of the boys are no strangers to stalkers.

Judging from the stern look on Do-yun’s face as Hoseok’s back turns rigid, he takes these kinds of situations very seriously.

What kind of trouble have I landed us in?

The sound of a door opening has me lurching back upright, Hobi’s arm outstretched as he tries to calm me down like a startled animal.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. “Wanna hop out?” I do as he says, clenching my jaw as the chill of early spring hits me.

Do-yun steps forward, giving me a warm smile that is at odds with his muscular figure. “Hey, Sunny. How’re you feeling? You had quite the scare, it sounds like.”

I nod, staring down at his shoes. Hoseok’s arms encircle me, and he begins rubbing some warmth back into my shoulders.

“She was smart, though,” Hobi comments. “Locked the doors. She noticed way before I did.”

“Good.” Do-yun shuffles on his feet. “I’ll head over to your apartment complex now, would you like me to grab anything for you? Toothbrush? Clothes?”

I furrow my brows, looking back up at him, and then to Hobi. “Am I not going back tonight?” I thought that Do-yun was here to escort me back to my apartment.

Hobi’s hands pause in their ministrations. “Rin-ah, there’s no way you’re going anywhere near that guy. Just…” he pauses, then begins warming me up again. “Stay here tonight. I’ve got plenty of space. I’ll give you a ride to work in the morning, too.”

My frown doesn’t leave my face as I hand over my key to Do-yun, explaining what I need and where everything is. He promises to be back soon with my things, instructing me to jog my memory for any memories of the mystery man.

Once again I lie and say I will.

Once back inside Hobi’s apartment, I stand in the doorway like a ghost. It’s empty in here, now. Everyone else has gone home. And despite having been a frequent guest over the past month, I can’t help but realize just how different this is.

Hobi notices my obvious hesitation, and steps back over to the doorway. Crouching down, he unties my shoes for me.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he starts, gently tapping on my ankle to signal for me to take the shoe off. “That was...horrible.”

I stare down at where he begins to untie the next shoe, watching his deft fingers at work. There’s a part of me that’s mesmerized by him and his kindness, the way he seems to fill me up with only a look. Yet, there’s another part of me that knows that all of this is wrong. Wrong, and I’m not doing a single thing to stop it.

“It was.”

My voice sounds like I haven’t used it in years, and Hobi glances up at me with concern in his eyes. He rises to his feet, and I kick off my other shoe before putting it on the rack. When I turn back around, Hobi stands just before me.

So close.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

Despite the circumstances, I still manage a wry smile. “How many times are you going to apologize for something that wasn’t your fault?”

What I’d hoped would make him relax only has him frowning. “What if it is my fault?” I open my mouth to protest, but Hobi stops me. “I’m willing to bet that somebody recognized me dropping you off and tipped some reporter off. I should’ve been more discreet, I shouldn’t have been so careless with you. You’ve already had agencies trying to track you down, I’m not helping by-”

My hand moves of its own accord, coming to rest over Hobi’s mouth as I effectively shut him up. Watching as his eyes widen a bit, I sigh.

“It’s nobody’s fault, so quit blaming yourself right now.”

Stepping around him and walking toward the living room, I glance back at him over my shoulder. He stands there frozen, running his hands through his hair as though contemplating tearing it out.

♟

We’ve made it through two episodes of The Office by the time Do-yun returns. His visit is quick, he drops off my few belongings and doesn’t say much on what else he found out. He simply states that he couldn’t find a man that fit the description Hobi gave him, but he did speak with the landlord briefly.

Apparently more will be analyzed in a meeting tomorrow with Bang PD. The thought of tonight being discussed with Bang PD nearly makes me sick, and I excuse myself to use the bathroom.

The process of hiring me was a long and complicated one. Honestly, I’m still in shock that it even happened. Due to the extensive hiring process, there were a few things that Bang PD made absolute sure to emphasize when creating my contract.

1. My 7 year contract with Bighit entertainment would immediately be under fire if I began entertaining job offers from competing agencies even a day before my contract officially ended.

This, of course, made perfect sense. Most contracts have something to the same effect; which is why when I was still under Source entertainment I had to be very careful when traveling to Bighit during my trial period. It would have been a complete mess if they’d found out about me, and Bighit would have most likely not hired me just to save themselves from controversy.

Over the past few months of employment at Bighit, I have received my fair share of ‘trackers’ from other agencies that are wondering where Ha-rin from Source entertainment disappeared to. So far, I’ve managed to avoid them, thus saving myself and Bang PD from criticism. Most people have no idea that Jung Ha-rin and Sunny are the same person. I’d like to keep it that way.

2. It is not allowed, under any circumstances, for me to become involved in any sort of relationship that goes beyond the label ‘friendly’ with idols under the Bighit label.

What does this mean for me when Do-yun enters the meeting tomorrow with Bang PD with the story of J-hope and Sunny out late and running into a potential stalker? What does it mean for me when he finds out that I stayed at his top idol’s apartment?

It’s grounds for termination. And right now, exiting the bathroom and heading back downstairs in my pajamas, following the sounds of the TV, I know that I can’t afford to be fired. Not now, just when the world is starting to open up for me.

Not now, when I finally found someone I can trust.

“Sorry, I started the next episode without you,” Hobi says from where he’s sprawled out on the couch. “Do you want me to start it over?”

I shake my head, pulling my phone out. “No, that’s fine. I think I should head to bed, anyways.”

Jumping up from the couch, Hoseok strides over to me. “Good idea. You’ve had quite the day today. Good thing the mattress for the guest room got here last week, isn’t it?” He chuckles to himself as I remember the day I came over for dinner and found a project waiting for me instead. Together with Taehyung and Jimin we put together the bed, but not without a large amount of yelling and collapsing dramatically to the ground.

I snicker at the memory, watching as Hobi goes before me to open the door and flick the light on. The light blue tones of the room welcome me and I nearly start sobbing at how soft the bed looks. I really do need to sleep.

Arranging my clothes for the next day, Hobi hesitates in the doorway. I speak up for him.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night, Hobi. I really appreciate it.”

He perks up at the sound of my voice, the sight making me both melt and wince at the same time. “Of course. Anytime. You know that, don’t you?”

I frown, turning to look at him. He stands there looking a little uncertain, his hand clutching the door handle for dear life.

“Know what?”

He shrugs, looking anywhere but at me. “That I’m here for whatever you need.”

I think I’m starting to understand it. “I...thank you. Really.”

He mumbles out a goodnight before gently closing the door behind him, the sound of his feet padding down the hallway making me smile before I even realize why.

My smile is wiped off my face quick enough when I remember what I need to do. There’s no need to get Hobi in this mess; heaven knows he’s got enough on his plate already. Pulling my phone out, I type in the contact info until Bang PD’s contact pops up.

The message takes a long time to write out, but I want to make sure I’m very clear in it. I explain the situation, how Hobi and I are good friends and that this is all just some big misunderstanding. I beg him not to take it the wrong way; that first and foremost we are professionals.

For the second time that night, I lie. Typing out the words, ‘I have no feelings for him’ seems nearly impossible, but I manage to do it.

Just when I start to feel sorry for myself, I remind myself that this is what I signed up for. This is what I wanted, isn’t it? Have a shot at Bighit, produce some music and make some friends along the way?

That’s what we are, I chant in my mind over and over again as my fingers fly over my phone. Just friends.

It doesn’t take long for Bang PD to reply. I can’t really blame him if this is the fastest he’s ever responded to my texts; we are talking about one of his greatest assets after all. He certainly wouldn’t want J-hope, the sunshine of the world, to be caught sneaking around in the dark with the producer Bighit bought out an entire company for.

I can already see the tabloids with their blaring headlines, claiming that Source entertainment was bought out just so J-hope could get with some girl. Not only would it tarnish both our image, it would make GFRIEND a laughing stock. How would it feel to be the group that was tossed around agencies just so your producer could get a shot at love?

It’s not true. Not of it is true. Yet I can already picture how it would be, shouting that at reporters over and over again as they laugh and ask why not? Why else would I be hired?

Why else would some 20-something producer from the middle of nowhere be hired on at one of the most successful agencies in k-pop history?

I’m staring at my phone, at the six-word answer Bang Sihyuk typed out. With the vision of my life being ruined as well as many others, I see the wisdom in his words.

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still sting.

1:42 am Bang PD - Bighit: End it before it can begin.

♟

I’ve been discovering patterns on the ceiling for nearly twenty minutes when a quiet knock on my door pulls my attention away.

Laying here on Hobi’s guest bed, I keep finding the same message over and over again traced on the ceiling.

End it before it can begin.

What is that even supposed to mean? Was I not clear enough in my message? Did he know I was lying when I said I felt nothing for Hobi?

Maybe he wants me to draft a statement for the press, have one ready to go in case all of this goes south. Maybe he’s expecting my resignation in the morning.

However, when I hear Hoseok knocking on my door, I know exactly what Bang PD meant by his message. And I hate him for it.

A couple of seconds pass before Hobi slowly opens my door just enough to peek in. When he sees that I’m awake, he gives me a sheepish smile before stepping inside.

He must have just finished getting ready for bed; he smells amazing. His skin is glowing with that fresh just-washed glow, and he’s wearing a robe over his t-shirt and shorts.

It’s a look that anybody else would look subpar in. And yet, I can’t help the way my eyes widen a little just to be able to see more of him.

“I saw that your light was still on and decided to come check on you. Why are you still up?”

His reasoning has me smiling softly at him before I remember why I was still up in the first place. Eyeing my phone that sits on the nightstand, I pray that Bang PD doesn't decide to call me right now.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I don’t mean for it to come out as a whisper, but it does anyway. Hobi nods, edging in closer.

When he finally stands before my bed, I move over just enough for him to take a seat. He smiles at our unspoken communication, and my heart withers as I remember what I’ve just been told to do.

But what if there’s nothing to even stop?

It’s that kind of thinking that finds me with my head resting in Hobi’s lap, eyes closing as he feathers through my hair. He asked what usually helped me to relax, and I didn’t even hesitate that people playing with my hair was the way to do it.

I’m barely clinging to consciousness at this point, a layer of goosebumps rising when Hobi’s fingers scratch over a particularly sensitive part of my scalp.

“You drove so fast tonight,” I mumble out, not even bothering to open my eyes. Hobi’s quiet laugh trickles down to me.

“I did, didn’t I?”

“I even told you to slow down, but you completely ignored me.” My voice is heavy with sleep, but Hobi doesn’t seem to mind. It’s a wonder that he’s still so coherent.

“You did?” He lets out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t even notice. My mind was elsewhere, I think.”

I peek one eye open, watching as he smiles down at me, his finger coming down to trace a line from the crown of my head to the tip of my nose.

“Where was your mind?” I ask, completely aware that I might not be making the most sense.

Hobi shrugs. “I just knew I had to get you out of there. Do you know that was the first time I ever felt comfortable driving?”

I hum in response, my eyes falling shut again. Hobi resumes his pattern, occasionally trailing his fingers along my cheekbones or tracing my eyebrows.

If I were more awake, I’d be redder than a tomato. Thankfully this is happening way past my bedtime. Although a part of me knows that I’ll be freaking out in the morning.

“Rin-ah,” Hobi whispers. “Can I talk to you about something?”

I’ve had enough heart-stopping moments for one night, this just about kills me. Groaning as I sit up, I try to focus on Hoseok.

“Can’t this wait until morning, Hobi?” I hide my yawn behind my hands. “I’m so tired now. I nearly just fell asleep.”

Hobi shakes his head earnestly. “No, it can’t. I don’t think I’ll be able to say it in the morning.”

Suddenly I’m wide awake.

Looking at him warily, I chew on my options of what to say. “Are...are you sure? I think we’re both really tired and out of our minds after tonight-”

“I’ve been out of my mind for a while now, RIn-ah.”

My mouth snaps shut as Hobi turns to face me fully, our knees grazing. “Are you calling yourself insane?”

Hobi laughs, the sound reminding me of crystal. “No. Well, maybe yes?” He sighs, running his hands over his face before looking back at me. “I think I’ve been out of my mind since I met you. You...you’re everything. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Never. And I’ve been freaking myself out for the past six months since I finally got up the nerve to talk to you, always playing this game of does she or doesn’t she, trying to figure out if you feel the same way.”

“Hobi…”

“But I’ve just now realized something monumental.” Hobi’s eyes grow wide as he smiles at me, not a hint of fear in his expression. “It doesn’t matter if you feel the same as me. Even if you feel only a fraction of what I feel for you, that’d be enough. I think I love you enough for the both of us.”

His words drop like anvils on my head, each one pummeling me down deeper and deeper until I’m looking up from the grave I’ve dug for myself. I already know what my tombstone will read.

End it before it can begin.

As I stare into his eyes, I watch as the joy slowly turns to doubt and insecurity as the silence carries on.

If this were a different story, I’d be kissing those lips instead of watching them turn into a frown.

“Say something,” Hobi breathes out. “Please just say something.”

What happens if I can’t?

My mouth remains sealed shut, caging in the words that are dying to be spoken. I’ve been out of my mind for months, too. He’s moving away from me now, turning to plant his feet back on the ground. You have no idea just how far I’ve fallen for you. His head is down as he braces his hands on the side of the bed.

Those fingers that were so delicately tracing my brow just moments before are now white as they cling to the mattress as though trying to wake himself up from this nightmare.

“...you don’t.” His voice is strained, his face a reflection pool of all his emotions as he turns to look at me. There’s a single flicker of hope still lingering in those eyes, a softness that I’ve found is reserved just for me.

I take one last look at that beautiful gaze, knowing that it will be the last time Jung Hoseok looks at me this way. I want to remember it.

My head feels like it’s swimming through concrete as I shake it once, telling him what I have to.

No.

A single syllable, represented by a single shake of the head. A thousand pound weight pressing down on me.

The snick of the door shutting is quiet as Hoseok lets himself out.

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#jhope x oc #hobi x oc #bts x oc #bts fluff #jhope fluff #hobi fluff #bts fanfic #hobi fanfic #hobi series #jhope angst #bts angst #hobi #jung hoseok #bts writer #bts x reader #jhoooope

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resplendentgoldenwings · 4 years ago

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The Hope That is You II

So I’ve been meaning to do a longer post about the series finale of Disco but honestly I’ve just really been sort of absorbing it and the two previous episodes these last few weeks. Anyway here are my thoughts.

I haven’t seen much talk about the actions sequences (and yes I know Star Trek isn’t about fight scenes and shit but sometimes it is). Man I loved that shit, ok. Sonequa is a great physical actor and Michael is obviously a very physical person. That whole turbo lift scene was just blew my mind. Like grrrl what is you doin’? I love that Michael is just that fucking brave and bold and physical and terrifying and just out here kickin’ ass and takin’ names. There have certainly been better action scenes and fight scenes in shows but the intensity of that one- I loved it!

Watching her and Book handle Zareh and Ossrya was like yessss! Queen. From “Up here you sonofabitch!” to “No win scenarios, I don’t believe in those.” I was one super happy fangir!

After There is a Tide, I kinda wanted Ossyra to live and hang around for a while. I felt like the episode added some interesting depth to the character, especially since she was being somewhat honest and perhaps genuinely willing to be not horrible. Then Wednesday happened and we still have leaders quibbling about whether or not a certain megalomaniac should be impeached or put on trial because “maybe it’s divisive, maybe it’s not expedient and we need to heal” blah, blah, blah!

Meanwhile that ass-hole is still making threats and we’re gonna live with what he stirred up for a long time (truthfully I don’t think I’ll rest easily as long as he’s alive, the piece of shit) so it was nice to see a leader who knew and understood what needed to happen, and even nicer to see that tyrant get what the fuck she deserved in the end. It may not be the Star Trek we want but damn if it ain’t the Star Trek we fucking need.

It was also really great to see the crew working together, to learn more about Joann and have that moment of Michael and Sylvia’s friendship be so helpful. Also Joann and Kayla, a couple? Y/N

Book can fly the ship, woohooo!I know some people were a bit confused about the fact that Book could just fly it immediately but the way I understand it Stamets added the tardigrade DNA to his own and that allowed him to navigate the mycelial network itself. Book as an empath wouldn’t be able to navigate the network but the network is an intelligence of a sort that he could communicate with and ask for help. Like how he and his brother asked the locust to go somewhere else.

One moment that really stood out to me was when the crew reunited with Michael on the bridge and Tilly asks Michael to lead them, saying that they all wanted her to take charge. Tilly is radiating so much defeat here and while I was happy to see Michael taking charge I felt so bad for her.

First she never should have been put in that position and second while I think there were things she could have done differently in that moment it seems like even a more experienced officer would have lost the ship under those circumstance. I also caught Michael reacting to it and I hope Tilly’s now damaged confidence is revisited going into s4.

Speaking of Tilly not being ready for command who is Michael’s first officer going to be? I’ve seen two suggestions that I really like. Hugh Culber or Jett Reno.

Jett Reno is my fave suggestion because I think she would serve as a great counter balance. Michael is level headed but extremely passionate and her emotions run deep. Reno is super steady and I think Michael would benefit from a really, steady down to earth first officer. Unfortunately this won’t be happening Tig Notaro, the actress who plays Reno, doesn’t want to take on a full-time gig, damn it.

Hugh Culber has a similar steadiness but such warmth, compassion and patience that he would be a great support and sounding board for Captain Burnham. And we already have another doctor who takes charges in the sickbay and Dr. McCoy was 3rd in command on the Enterprise if Bones can do it than so can Culber.

These are my two favorite suggestions. Someone also suggested Owosekun which makes sense and it would give us the chance to get to know the character more. We could go with an outside hire which also makes sense. Discovery should have a liaison officer from the 32nd century. Sure they can look up information in the computer but having someone on hand who knows the places, the politics, the history would theoretically make things go more smoothly. Book can fill that role to an extent but they need someone who knows Starfleet’s current relationship with the rest of the universe first hand IMHO, so I’m all for an outside hire.

I’m just gonna say it Paul is a contentious ass-hole but honestly it’s also what we like about him. Difficult is what he brings to Discovery. And while we can empathize with Paul not wanting to lose Hugh a second time, especially since he’s been through it the first fucking time I hope with all my heart and soul that Michael doesn’t apologize to him or try to make things right. The decision she made to not go back for the away team was the right fucking decision. She’s captain now and this won’t be the last time she has to make a decision like that either.

What I’d prefer to see for s4 regarding Michael and Paul is that maybe he has an attitude with her for a bit but then Michael has to do something similar with Book (he survives ofc) but Paul actually thaws then. He’s thinking she’s gonna be a hypocrite and inflict things on her crew that she isn’t willing to inflict on herself. Basically he thinks she’s selfish rather than having grown but when that isn’t what happens he ends up being the first to want to reach out to her. Both to maybe comfort her if there is a time where Book’s status is unknown and offer an apology.

It’s not on the captain to make amends for being the captain, it’s the crew to live with it or leave.

I know this post is like super long already. I wanted to add some stuff about Su’kal and Saru but that’s honestly a whole other post on its own so maybe later. Right now just really looking forward to s4 and finally see Captain Michael Burnham, let’s fly.

#Star Trek Discovery #Captain Michael Burnham #Ensign Tilly #Lt. Owosekun #Cleveland Booker #Burnham/Book

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mdzs-headcannons-n-stuff · 4 years ago

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I read the A Girl Can Dream request and i was wondering if u can do a continuation of that? like maybe see this in LXC perspective or see what would happen after they've been conversating for so many times?

Whichever one u do, im sure id like it either way♡

Yes. Yes we can! (Also, disclaimer, I've gone thru all 5 versions of the story and so many fic, I cannot remember the actual way JGY handles the hired girls after his Dastardly Deeds, but that's in play here. Just so folks know!)

A Girl Can Dream- Part 2: Waking Nightmares

It begins, as their visits always do, with tea. But this time, Lan Xichen sits still and watches her hands shake as she lifts the tea pot, a few small droplets of the fragrant liquid splashing out to soak into his sleeve.

"I'm sorry," she rushes to say, reaching for a napkin to clean before the spill can stain, but he gently catches her hand to stop her.

"It is nothing," he says with a smile. Or rather, as much of a smile as could be appropriate, given the circumstances. After she settles again, he takes over the tea, smoothly pouring into both cups. "You seem tired, my friend. This all must be difficult for you."

'This', naturally, being the fact that not two weeks ago her employer had died in the middle of a.... Vigorous harem meeting. He was grateful to know she was never usually called on for the late Sect Leader Jin's licentious habits, but the man still paid her expenses and put her up in Koi Tower. It was fortunate that his sworn brother had agreed to keep her on so Lan Xichen could continue with their regular visits.

"... I trust you, Sect Leader Lan," she finally says, twisting her cup between her hands in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. "But...If something dire were to happen... Something truly despicable that might even be hard to believe... Would you trust me?"

At this, he pauses the action of bringing the tea to his lips, returning the cup to the table. He has been speaking with her every other week for many years now, his favored reception at Lanling, rivaled only with being met by the newly minted Sect Leader Jin himself. But even then- he does not leave until he has had the chance to visit. And she has been very good and honest with him in that time, through many types of strife and grief for both of them. Of course he trusts her. She is like a sister to him.

But he has never seen her like this. Cagey. On edge. Watchful and quiet like she was worried someone might be watching her. Might be listening.

"What has happened?" he asks seriously, reaching across the table to lay a comforting hand over hers. "Has someone hurt you?"

She shakes her head, grasping his fingers so tightly her knuckles turn white and she looks as though she might cry.

"I am afraid someone will though," she whispers, so soft he has difficulty hearing the words at all. "I have seen something I was clearly not meant to know, and if he finds out, he'll kill me. I know he will."

"Who?" Lan Xichen asks.

She takes a deep shuddering breath before she looks at him, the fear clear in her glassy eyes. "Jin Guangyao."

He sits, silent, the two of them carefully shrouded in privacy talismans, and he listens. Listens as she tells him her story, tears clinging to he lashes a she recounts finding one of the other girls had left behind a medicine she needed nightly, and following after the tracks from their departure to deliver it to her, only to be met with the view of a man in dark clothes with a cruel smile and a deformed hand and, beside him, Jin Guangyao, standing outside with the former sect leader's body and listening to the girls inside scream as the building burned down around them.

He listens a she tells him of her slipping away as silently as she could, back through the trees and into the city, rushing so she was back where she was supposed to be before the heir arrived, feigning grief and surprise.

How she has not felt safe since, constantly worrying that Jin Guangyao will realize, and send someone with ill intention to stage an "accident" for her as well.

He listens.

He listens, and he grieves.

For a time, he does nothing. He has asked his own questions, softly, gently, and in ways that seem innocuous, but he cannot rid himself of the memories of fear in her eyes, even as Jin Guangyao gives perfect, placating answers.

And then, just as he begins to settle and think this all might truly be a misunderstanding, it happens.

A walk through the city to return her to her staying place or next appointment, sometimes done when his sworn brother is busy, and then there is the slip of a knife, gone before the rush of red even meets against the collars- pink and gold of a finely crafted dress staining crimson, and she's collapsing in his arms.

He weeps.

He mourns.

She lives.

Barely... But she lives.

He could not bear to leave her there, in a den of beasts she fears, and he spirits her away, the strength of his core feeding her struggling body life until he touches down in Cloud Recesses, handing her over with mourning hands to his healers.

His friend lives, scarred and quieted, but free and safe in the mists of his protection.

But the perfection and trust he held for his sworn brother has died, shattered like a porcelain mask put under too much pressure.

He prepares his confrontation. He has gathered the evidence, witnesses, and all he would need for a proper trial, diligence having been paid its due. And not just for her- for all of them. For every dark secret his sworn brother has managed to hide. For the girls murdered after being used as tools. The civilians tortured to build resentments to weaponize. For the Wens who truly did not deserve to die. For Wei Wuxian, who, it seemed, truly only wanted justice, despite his own darkness.

For Nie Mingjue. Their sworn brother. Their Da-Ge. Their friend.

It pains him, rips his lungs apart like claws and leaves him to bleed out in his tears and well-beloved lies, but it must be done.

Be just.

Defend the helpless.

Punish the wicked.

These are the precepts his Uncle has raised him in, has raised the whole of the Lan Sect in. And as much as Lan Xichen loves him, he cannot excuse Jin Guangyao of his crimes. The dead will not rest until their victimhood is brought to light. Until Jin Guangyao accepts his punishments. He can't do what he's done in the past. Can't stand by and let the world simply happen around him.

As much as he loves him, there is a justice coming for Jin Guangyao that cannot, no, that will not be denied.

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thanksjro · 4 years ago

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More Than Meets the Eye #21- Situations in Which it is Appropriate to Stab Your Roommate

You know what’s generally considered bad for your health?

Getting fingers stuck into your brain meat.

Tailgate reveals himself to be immune to Tyrest’s “fall down on the floor” signal, because his hearing’s gone to complete shit due to Cybercrosis. Tailgate then turns off the “fall down on the floor” signal, allowing everyone back up. Tyrest dislikes this turn of events every much- so much so, in fact, he’s turned into a Nazgûl out of sheer rage.

Rodimus, feeling a bit bolstered by the fact that he’s gotten his hands on one of the massive guns the Legislators dropped, tries to talk a big game at Tyrest, before being reminded that a lot of their party is still at risk of dying, by way of their souls cheese-wizzing out of their heads.

Tyrest, now using Tailgate as a hostage, tells everyone to back off so he can go hang out with the Guiding Hand, otherwise he’s gonna poke holes in Cyclonus’ morality pet. Tailgate screams for Rodimus to fire, finally revealing that he’s been dying this whole time. Rodimus has a weird moment where the plot overrides his knowledge of his situation as a character, as he claims shooting them both is unnecessary, as it looks like someone’s already working on it.

Not sure how he saw the gun and not the man it was being held by. And Minimus has some fucking explaining to do.

Outside, Star Saber is yelling about everyone being unworthy of God’s grace, save for himself, because Real Bastard Hours are 24-fucking-7 with him around. Cyclonus decides that he’s going to deal with the stress of not being able to find his dying roommate through violence, and agrees to a religiously-inclined sword fight.

Star Saber has a good start, sucker-punching Cyclonus in the chin, holier-than-thou as he goes. Cyclonus turns the tables however, when he uses his remaining helmet horn to gouge one of Star Saber’s eyes out, revealing his fashion statement to be a deadly weapon in its own right.

Then we get a taste of Cyclonus’ personal brand of faith.

That’s a mighty high opinion of Tailgate you got there, pal. Quite the jump from “I think you’re pathetic.”

Unfortunately, having this little character moment gives Star Saber enough time to warp the hell away from Cyclonus’ Nazgûlian wrath.

Back with Zombie Bullshit Part 3, we get some friggin’ answers.

Minimus looks super tiny here, but remember that he’s still at least ten feet tall. This is not a man you can invite inside your house for a tea party.

After Minimus’ head got crushed, he had to Alien chest-burst his tiniest self out, which allowed him to grab that gun that’s as big as he is and shoot Tyrest in half. Rodimus has to be reminded again that people are still dying, including Brainstorm, which is weird, because he made it seem like he was forged a few issues back. Perceptor runs off to try and parse the Killswitch, and Pharma offers to help, striking a weirdly sultry pose as he does. Everyone ignores him, because that’s just what happens when you become evil and cut your old coworker in half hotdog-style- you get ignored.

Off in the corner, Swerve is talking to Tailgate about the fact that he didn’t tell anyone he was dying, then makes a joke about his impending demise, because Swerve has a lot of trouble handling serious situations. No one has helped him pop his nose back into place, either. This entire team is just falling apart.

Skids stares blankly at Ratchet and First Aid as they check to make sure all the cold-constructed ‘bots are still dying- they are- then remembers that he’s supposed to be watching Pharma.

Prowl only hires the best, clearly.

Skids runs for the portal, with First Aid right on his tail because there’s a gotdang score to settle, and also Rung for some reason. They find Pharma chilling in the tunnel, completely unable to get through to the other side, not because he’s guilty, but because there’s a forcefield in place.

Of course, because Tyrest was an engineer, and you can always find a running theme with everyone’s work, Rung theorizes that the forcefield is working with Aequitas rules, and actually can sense guilt- not of the legal sense, but of the personal variety.

Which sort of implies some unfortunate things about the Aequitas trials as a whole.

Skids starts sinking through, whereas Rung is hitting a wall. Rung, the hell you got to feel guilty about? What sort of horrors have you inflicted upon the world, you skinny creamsicle of a man?

Skids, people are dying. Can your personal nirvana not wait until after this galactic-scale crisis is resolved?

While Skids fucks off into the portal, First Aid’s taking care of Pharma, as Rung watches and has a Nam flashback to issue #6 in the distance.

Sometimes I wonder if First Aid is somehow aware of how Eugenesis went for him, and that’s why he’s so aggressive all the time in MTMTE.

With his revenge exacted, First Aid finally has that breakdown that’s been a long time coming.

You know what we haven’t had in a while? Gratuitous religious imagery.

“They call it the Eugenesis Code. Has something to do with intellectual property, I dunno.”

So this move they’re about to pull might kill Rodimus, and is for-sure going to annihilate the half of the Matrix they have. Bummer. Perceptor goes to finish setting up, leaving Rodimus and Minimus alone to discuss that thing Getaway brought up about Ultra Magnus luring the Lost Light to Luna 1.

Over on the floor, Tyrest isn’t dead, because of course he isn’t, and enacts the homophone game with Swerve and Tailgate as he relays an order to the Legislators.

Outside, all the Legislators stop whaling on Whirl with their swords and start parroting prime numbers at the sky.

Back with Rodimus and Minimus, it’s revealed that Magnus/Minimus/Miniminimus DID lure the Lost Light to the moon, but it was to have Tyrest yell at Rodimus for being a crappy captain. He didn’t know that Tyrest had gone completely bonkers.

The worst part is that Minimus doesn’t know the half of all the bullshit Rodimus has pulled since the end of the war.

No wonder Rodimus was so upset before the funeral- Overlord was partially his fault.

Prowl, prior to the Lost Light’s launch, had wormed his way into Rodimus’ brain, convincing him that an Autobot Phase Sixer was absolutely necessary for the safety of everyone. He, along with Drift, Brainstorm, the Duobots, and eventually Chromedome, assisted in what culminated in one hell of a bad day.

Rodimus would really prefer if this whole space-crucifixion didn’t kill him, because he’s feeling like he’s got a lot to make up for. Which, yeah. I’m guessing all of Tripodeca’s friends are going to be mighty sore about this whole thing once it comes to light.

And that’s a series wrap on Rodimus!

We get a brief intermission, as we find out where exactly Skids got to. It’s… somewhere. Not even he’s sure. He tries to ask for directions, but it would seem there’s a language barrier.

It really speaks volumes to Skids’ sense of self-confidence, that he’d see a giant ball of technicolor light and decide he’s gonna go try to talk to it.

Back at the current crisis at hand, Rodimus screams some more, the Matrix shatters alongside any hopes of finding the Knights of Cybertron, and Ratchet has himself a little smile, because that did the trick.

The reason we aren’t seeing Crankcase in this set of panels is because his head wound was also spewing oil, and he looks super nasty right now. Well, nastier than any of the Scavengers usually are on a day to day basis. They regularly drink corpse juice, they can’t NOT be nasty.

Unfortunately, we aren’t out of the woods yet, as that whole Legislator thing still needs to be taken care of. They pour into the room, throwing Swerve along with the steel door, as he shrieks in terror.

Back outside, Cyclonus and Whirl are having a little breather up on the edge of the smelting pool, since all the Legislators they were fighting went inside. Whirl, who is looking just awful, brings up that little deal he cooked up in issue #19, where Cyclonus would stop trying to murder him if they got through this fight. It’s important to remember that verbal contracts aren’t binding, and that Cyclonus didn’t agree to anything.

And that’s a series wrap on Whirl!

Actually, no, Cyclonus was just daydreaming. He agrees to put the past behind them, then shoots off to go find Tailgate.

Back in Legislator City, things are getting dicey, as Rung screams for Skids to come back, because if nothing else, he knows he can depend on Skids when the chips are down.

Skids, playing to Rung’s expectations, vaults over Pharma’s headless body out of the portal, and starts kicking ass. In the background, some creepy tentacle nonsense pulls Pharma through the portal. This, surely, will never come up again, nor will it be a major plot point down the road.

Because Tyrest decided he was going to play fast and loose with the law, Minimus has no idea what “one one” is meant to refer to. Tailgate decides that cram school did serve a purpose after all, and books it towards that massive computer off in the corner. After a bit of combing through the index, he finds what he’s looking for and makes a few choice edits to the Autobot Code. The Legislators freeze in place, and Tailgate reveals that he’s just completely voided a section of the law.

Just off panel, Minimus barely contains the urge to pop Tailgate’s cubic little head off of his neck. Not that he’d have much time to do it anyway.

Smash cut to the next day, where Tailgate’s laid out in a dark room, Cyclonus sitting by his side. Chromedome is also there for some reason. Rung is nowhere to be seen, despite him likely being a better fit for this situation than the guy whose husband died less than a week ago. Chromedome leaves, because this is a very intimate moment between these two guys who are roommates.

Tailgate, who has developed an honest-to-god “guy-who-is-going-to-die-by-the-end-of-the-movie” cough, tells Cyclonus that he made him something, and it’s waiting in their room for him. I’m going to guess it’s a macaroni art picture of the two of them fighting a dragon.

Tailgate has literal minutes to live, and Cyclonus just sits there, Nazgûling with grief, until Tailgate decides that NOW is the time to reveal his hand.

…Well, there’s the answer to the Babygate question.

Tailgate’s come to the conclusion that all his wanting to be important and a hero was a bit misguided, because as it turns out, it kind of sucks when it’s your final act in the world of the living. He really would have preferred to do just about anything else with his last days, even if it had been just chilling in his room with Cyclonus.

Tailgate asked Cyclonus off-panel to do him a solid and kill him before the Cybercrosis did, a plea which Cyclonus couldn’t agree to. Then he gets a call, and the tension of the scene is somewhat ruined by some goofy-ass cinematic parallels.

Where the hell is Tailgate, that Cyclonus has to book it down the hall to make it to the medibay? That isn’t clear, but what is is that Tailgate has the rottenest luck in the world; they figured out a cure for Cybercrosis, but his case is too advanced for treatment to be effective.

Cyclonus thinks that this is a major bummer, but thanks Ratchet for trying anyway. Whirl tries to talk to him, and he better watch out, before that little deal he made gets thrown out the friggin’ window.

Tailgate hits the final two minutes, as Cyclonus returns, sword in hand.

And that’s a series wrap on Tailgate!

…That was almost a sincere one, you know. Tailgate was supposed to die here, in an earlier draft of the story. He didn’t, because Roberts realized it would completely nerf Cyclonus’ character development. I can’t even begin to imagine who Cyclonus would have been if both the Rewind/Chromedome thing hadn’t gone over well, AND Tailgate got offed.

Later on, Ultra Magnus is back in action, Minimus Ambus having redonned the armor to reassume his position as S.I.C. of the Lost Light. He discusses the changes that have come about as a result of their time on Luna 1 with Rodimus, who’s pretty bummed about the whole situation. A quick rundown of all the nonsense that happened:

The mystical portal to the Guiding Hand no longer works

Hot Spot faded out and won’t come back on

Ambulon is dead

First Aid is very sad about Ambulon being dead

The ship is falling apart

The only person who seems to have had any sort of a positive experience is Brainstorm.

…James, did you put that baby inside that robot?

Anyway, so yeah. Luna 1 sucks butt. One star, would rate zero if I could, I don’t care if it has sweet rocket thrusters strapped to the back of it and is super mysterious, and might potentially be an idea pulled from the delightfully earnest Children of a Lesser Matrix.

Later on, Magnus makes his rounds, stopping by Cyclonus and Tailgate’s room to check the vibe. Turns out that stabbing sick people is considered medicine on Cybertron, at least when you’re using a Great Sword to do it.

Whirl had the awesome idea to slap Cyclonus’ weird spark energy into Tailgate’s frail body, so it could kickstart his heart and give him enough time to actually get treated for Cybercrosis.

Ultra Magnus is impressed, and perhaps a bit concerned with how easily Cyclonus was willing to risk dying so that Tailgate could potentially live. So much so, in fact, that Cyclonus gets an achivement- he’s finally collected enough good karma to be allowed to have friends!

Looking mighty fresh-faced there, Cyclonus. And is that a new horn? Someone’s got a plastic surgeon on speed-dial.

No, this is actually the gift that Tailgate made him, the one he was working on in Hoist’s workshop back in issue #15, just before the Overlord attack. The one we never got to actually see, probably because it would be very easy to tell what it was and who it was for if we had. The set up for our slowburn romance has to be just so, no shortcuts allowed.

#transformers #jro #jro punches me in the face #mtmte #remain in light #issue 21 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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jawritter · 5 years ago

Text

You and Me...

Chapter 13

***SERIES WARNINGS**** Rape, non-con, male!rape, injury, violence, description of injury caused by rape, nightmares, self-harm, panic attacks, implied female non-con, language, ass hole Jensen, hurt!Jensen, dark fic, smut. If there is anything else I will add it as I go.

***Chapter Warnings*** Naked Jensen, yes that’s a warning lol, mild panic attack, probably language, cause that’s always a warning with me, hint of reader body insecurities. I think that’s about it with this one.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1815

A/N: Anyway, all mistakes are mine, please don’t copy my work, Feedback is golden. If you want to be added to the series tag list, or my tag list just let me know! I hope you enjoy this one. This is something I actually did and witness, and I realize this one might be hard to read because it is a little heavy.

Summary: It’s funny how one choice you made can change your whole life. One mistake can alter your course, and set you on a path that forever will haunt you. Two people find themselves getting through one of the hardest trials of Jensen’s life, on just one small promise. You and Me. We’ll get through it together…

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***YOU AND ME MASTERLIST***

Pulling the boxing tape over the last box you sit down on the bed and look around the now empty room.

The only thing left was the furniture. It’s not like you had a whole lot anyway. Some clothes, your guitar, some other odds, and in things. Jensen had told you there was no real point in taking the furniture.

His house was fully furnished and then some.

"Baby? You ready?" Jensen yelled from the front door.

He had said just to stack the boxes up, and you both would come to get them in the morning, so you stood up and put the last box in the pile by the door before throwing your overnight bag over your shoulder.

"Yeah... I think that's everything," you yell back at him, taking one final look at your phone before tucking it back into your pocket.

It was late, almost 11:00 pm. The two of you had spent all day packing and boxing up your things so that you'd be able to move in with him by tonight, and you could tell that he was more than excited about it.

In fact, this was the most excited you had seen him… Well ever...

The words that the therapist had said still echoing in your ears. “He's not glass, he's not gonna break if you touch him.”

That was something throughout the day you had to keep reminding yourself, because tonight, when you were done with the day, and it was time for bed, you had to do the other part of your exercise.

You had both been so busy all day that you hadn’t really touched each other at all since you got back to the apartment and started packing. Tonight though, you knew what was coming, and you were probably more afraid than he was about it.

You made your way to the front door, turning off lights as you went, checking everything one last time. Jensen was already there waiting on you. He seemed happy about the thought of going home tonight, sleeping in his own bed, and when you got to him by the door he even made a half-hearted attempt at smiling at you.

"It's late, let's just call in some take out and grab it on the way home," he said as you turned off the last light, locking the door, and following him into the hallway.

"Sounds good to me," you tell him, not realizing how hungry you actually were until he mentioned food. As you made your way to the elevator and pushed the button you felt Jensen lace his fingers with yours, bring your hand up to his lips, and kiss the back of it lightly.

This was it. It was official. You were his girlfriend, and you were moving in with him. You felt like your head was spinning.

You had been with him for weeks now, but not WITH him, and man it all just didn’t feel real yet, it felt like you were walking through a dream, and at any moment you were going to wake up.

Two hours later, the dishwasher was loaded with supper's dishes, whatever wasn’t disposable anyway.

Jensen had given you the tour of the house.

Which was honestly mind-blowing, and you had unpacked what clothes you had brought with you. Jensen had decided to just hire some movers to go get the rest of the things from your apartment, which he said would save the two of you a trip, and work on your last day off before having to start back recording Monday.

"I think I'm gonna go grab a shower and I'm calling it a night," you tell a wet haired Jensen as he comes out of the master bathroom, and sees you sitting on the small lounge chair in the room.

"Okay, sounds good to me. I'm exhausted," he said, flopping down on the bed on his stomach, nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

Maybe tonight wasn't the best night to start the little experiment that the therapist had suggested. You opened your mouth to say something about it to Jensen, but when you looked at him he'd dropped the towel that was around his waist to the ground, and was crawling under the covers.

“Well, that answers that,” you think to yourself as you walk toward the shower. Maybe he normally slept naked though when he was home.

You knew he was ready to get better, to get his life back. You understood that, and honestly, you would probably have been the same exact way, but you didn’t want him to push himself too fast. The Therapist said work up to getting nake, not flop in the bed in your birthday suit on your first try.

But it was his body, and he knew what he could handle. You reminded yourself that he wasn’t glass. It’s okay...He’s not going to break.

So you were going to do whatever you had to do to help him get better. Even if it means stepping a little out of your comfort zone to help. Even though you had seen Jensen naked before, on more than one occasion as he was recovering from his physical injuries, he had never seen you naked, and your insecurities spiked through the roof.

“Calm down, Y/N. He’s not exactly focused on that right now,” you whispered yelled at yourself.

It wasn't that you didn't want a physical relationship with Jensen, because God knows you did. It was the fact that you didn't want him to be uncomfortable, or stressed, because of what had been done to him.

After your shower you dried yourself off and quickly blow-dried your hair. Once you were done you stood there looking at yourself in the mirror for probably the first time today. Things had been so crazy since all this had happened. You felt a little bit like you were working on autopilot. Like you were functioning only because you knew it’s what you had to do. Things were starting to hit you now though, and the butterfly swarm in your stomach seemed to get angrier.

“You can do this,” you whispered to yourself.

Jensen was in there looking more like a damn Greek god than anyone had a right to. You didn't understand why he said he had feelings for you when in your opinion he could do so much better. The only thing you were almost sure of though was that you loved that man laying in there, problems and all.

Taking a deep breath you walk out of the bathroom to an already dark bedroom. For just a moment you thought Jensen was already asleep until you saw him lift the cover for you to crawl in next to him. Taking a deep, calming breath you drop your own towel and climb into the bed next to him. Taking your time, you slowly slide over to where Jensen was laying on his side facing you, his arm stretched out for you to crawl into, putting your head against his bare chest.

He wrapped you in his arms around you and tangled your legs together. Skin to skin, nothing in between the two of you. You were surrounded by his scent. The heat coming from his body. You could feel his every breath. Hear his heartbeat as it pounded against his chest in a steady rhythm.

"You okay," you asked him, almost afraid of the answer. He nuzzled his head into your hair, taking a deep breath.

"More than okay," he said. "I've dreamt of laying with you like this since the moment I met you," he said, playing ideally with your hair, purposely taking control and you laid there as still as you could, letting him do whatever it is he felt like he needed to do.

You nuzzle closer into the bend of his neck, breathing in his scent deeply. A light shudder moved over him as he felt your breath brush against his skin. So far he seemed to be okay. So you thought you’d try a little further.

Taking what little bit of nerve you had left, repeating mentally that he's not glass, he's not that fragile, you slowly move your fingers up and down his back from his shoulders to his waist. You feel him shudder again, and hum absently above you, his arms pulling you impossibly closer to him.

It was almost easy laying like this with him to forget that anything had ever happened to him. He was so strong. So perfect. You had never felt safer wrapped up in his arms. Then there was another side of you that hoped those people that did this to him would get the same treatment or worse in prison.

That was a thought you had fought against all day…

Jensen shifted a little until he put his fingers under your chin, and made you look at him, his candy apple green eyes bore into yours, slowly brushed his lips over yours; kissing you softly, but passionately sending sparks through your body. After a few minutes, you feel his tongue come out and slide across your bottom lips, begging for entrance which you gladly gave him.

You never thought you would be able to have this. You never knew that you'd be able to be this close to him. His tongue continued to explore your mouth. Sending shock waves of sparks through you. He seemed to like the amount of control that you were letting him have. Slowly gaining a little confidence he deepening the kiss.

Without thinking you sucked lightly at his tongue, pulling an involuntary moan from him that surprised you both. As soon as he made the sound he immediately stopped kissing you. A faraway look on his face. Taken over by some flashback you couldn't see.

Panicking a little you start to rub the side of his face.

"Jensen? Jensen, come back to me baby. You're safe. I'm right here."

Blinking hard he refocused on you, nuzzling back into your hair. Both of you were pretty sure that was enough experiment for tonight. His breaths coming in quick, short bursts still.

You start running your fingers over his back again, praying he would settle down, and not go deeper into whatever it was he was seeing.

After a few minutes, you feel his breathing even out, and you knew he was asleep. Yourself not far behind him. You'd dreamed about sleeping wrapped in his arms since you'd meet him. Now here it was happening. Nuzzling closer to his neck you feel him hum a little in his sleep. His grip tightening around your waist. You doze off into a peaceful uninterrupted sleep for the first time since you stayed with him in the hospital.

No dreams tonight.

Just the warmth of your bodies and your heart beats pulsing together. Lulling you both better than any drug or drink ever could.

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

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#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fanficiton #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles dark fic #dark!fic #fanfiction #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #jensen x reader #jensen x you #x reader inserts #jawritter #dean winchester

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13dead-ends · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter Two Unpacked

Henry Cavill x Named OC

Chapter Two of Blood Bound

Summary: Meeting Henry came with a huge surprise for Nina, but making a huge life change has it’s benefits.

Word Count: 5388

Warnings: SMUT! Sex dream, eating out, dom vibes if you squint, wrist biting/wounds, blood, blood drinking.

A/N: Hello! Smut time! Still some introduction things in there as well. I really hope you like it! The usual shout out to @hellcaster901 she’s the one reading my fics before anyone else! (Go read her Mando smut. It’s sooo good.) You’re the best girl! Anyways please enjoy :)

“Henry Cavill,” I said his name out loud, sucking in a breath afterward. Now that was a man. I pictured The Witcher’s bath scene and bit my lip. I blinked at his picture, a dorky one like his Instagram selfies. Which I most definitely do not stare at for long periods of time. He was already this attractive, feeding may be difficult.

The thing about feeding, giving your blood straight from the vein, it was very sensual. Especially on the human end. Vampires could control the strong emotion they felt, but humans felt it intensely, especially if they were attracted the vampire. I could manage mostly, but I was very attracted to Henry Cavill. I swallowed and finally tore my eyes from his photo to read his information. He was looking for a sugar daddy type arrangement. He wanted to take me out and spoil me. I liked that idea, but I hadn’t ever tried that before. He preferred separate living spaces as well, I liked that. Will fly you out to him when filming in other countries and likes to spoil. One more thing, I would be his first donor, if I accepted.

I’m surprised he hadn’t had a live donor before, especially when it sounds like he loves being a sugar daddy. I rested my chin on my hand, tapping it with my fingers. I hadn’t even looked at the other files, I honestly didn’t want to. I had an urge to pick Henry, despite the risk of losing it during a feeding, or maybe because of it.

I turned in the chair to face the phone, my eyes finding Kari’s name and extension right away. It was up to me; I can choose whoever I want. Kari told me today that they can set of trial periods before making anything permanent. If it’s too much or if I don’t like something, I can end it. I was dialing the right numbers and pulling the phone up to my ear. I still hadn’t opened the other files.

“Nina, Hello! I didn’t expect you to call so fast.”

“Yeah neither did I, but I think I know who to pick.”

“Wonderful! Tell me who it is, and we’ll set up a meeting.” I heard keys clicking.

“Henry Cavill.” I had to push the name out of my mouth. It couldn’t be real. “Did he really request me?”

“Yes, he sure did. Actually, he was just here this morning! He may be able to get a meeting in before he goes back to London.” My jaw dropped. That meant the meeting would be very soon. “Email sent, you two will discuss terms, and rules. The company requires a full lay out of what’s agreed, signed by the both of you.”

“Okay,”

“If things don’t work out now, you’re free to back out. After paperwork is signed, it’s a longer process, but you won’t be obligated to anything until the issue is solved.” She kept typing. “I’m emailing this all to you, so don’t worry about remembering it. Henry will also receive all of this.”

“Thank you, Kari.”

“Of course, how does lunch with Mr. Cavill tomorrow sound?”

Kari worked so quick I think I had whiplash. Before I knew it, I was getting ready to talk business with Henry fucking Cavill. Superman for god’s sake. I smoothed down the third dress I had tried on. It was a sweltering heat today; this would be the coolest thing I could wear. It was a spaghetti strap sundress, and I hoped I didn’t look frumpy in it. I jumped when my uber notification dinged, my ride was here, this would have to do.

I got to the cute café first. It was small and stuffy inside, so I took the liberty of getting an outdoor table. It was hot, a bead of sweat running down my temple, but when the breeze came it was like heaven. I gulped as a dark car pulled up. The umbrella on our table gave me shade, but I still had to squint to see who came out. Henry Cavill stepped out, straightening up as his feet touched the ground. The killed by sunlight thing was a myth vampires themselves created to distract humans. It worked. He wore a simple button up, but still looking effortlessly sexy. I took a deep breath, and with his vampire ears he’d hear it. Who knows, he could be nervous too.

He walked straight to me, confidence wafting off him in waves, but he wasn’t cocky. He didn’t even hesitate, like you do when you’re meeting someone you’ve only seen in pictures for the first time. He just knew it was me.

“Nina,” I stood, and he took my hand. Smiling, as he squeezed my hand.

“Mr. Cav- “

“Please call me Henry.” I nodded.

“Henry, thanks for meeting me.”

“Thank you! I’m glad you saw my file before I left for London.” I could listen to that low strong voice for hours. “I’m sure you have questions for me, I have a few for you.”

“Yeah, I have some.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m your first donor, right?” I was curious about that for some reason and anything goes in these meetings.

“And I’m not your first client.” I shook my head. “I had only been using the labs at Positive, and one day I decided to try something new.”

“I see,” I wondered what made him switch.

“And your last client, what happened to them?” I cleared my throat, looking away from him.

“Let’s just say he went too far one session.” I gulped feeling his eyes on me as I stared at my lap.

“I see, that’s something I wanted to discuss.” I looked up, and he was staring straight into my eyes, his blue gaze halting. “I know we are laying out boundaries and rules here, but whatever we decide, you’re not obligated to anything.” I couldn’t speak, with him looking right through me like that. “If you’re ever uncomfortable, or just don’t want to do something, just say the word.”

“Okay, thank you Henry.” Straight to the point. I liked it. A waiter came and took our orders, I got a mimosa, needed the confidence boost.

“That’s a reason I liked this company so much, they keep you in mind.” He leaned back in his chair. “Can I ask how often you would have your client feed?”

“Around once or twice a week. He didn’t have to feed often.” Henry nodded.

“Normally, that’s about how often I need. Around certain times while filming, I’ll need more, but I won’t be starting that for a few months.” I nodded. The waiter was back with our drinks and we ordered our food. I took a drink.

“It’s been a while since I’ve donated. It was a while before I got hired again.” I fiddled with my napkin. “I just want you to know.”

“Of course, I wanted to take everything slow anyways. It’s new for me.”

“The, um, spoiling, as your profile says, I’m not really used to that.” He smirked.

“Well I hope you do get used to it.” He leaned closer to me. “That’s what I’m excited about.” I felt my heart rate speed up. Could he hear that? I didn’t speak much with my last client. I never questioned the abilities they claim to have, maybe I’d get to ask Henry.

“I like the taking it slow idea, though. It’s best that way.” He nodded.

“Do you like LA?” I furrowed my brows at the question.

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “I’ve been here my whole life.” I was born here and hadn’t left. I took a sip of water.

“Have you ever wanted to leave?” I pursed my lips.

“Sure, especially to get out of this heat.” I took a swig. Then it clicked. “Wait, don’t you live in London?” He chuckled.

“I was getting to that.” He sighed. “This is probably the deal breaker, but I would like it if you moved there. I stared at my mimosa, wanting to chug the rest of it. “It’s a big decision, so I think we need to figure that out before going any further.” I nodded.

“I-I’m, I guess I hadn’t really thought about this.” He smiled, but his eyes weren’t as bright. I wanted to face palm.

“It’s up to you, of course. But I think you’re a good fit for me.” I cleared my throat.

“I don’t know if I can decide now.” I mumbled my brain was going a mile a minute. Moving, to another country. This was crazy, but I had always wanted to go to London. Living there could be amazing. It might be a fresh start after all the mess I had just dealt with.

“I understand, if you need time, we can finish that conversation later.” I swallowed.

“Your profile said you preferred separate houses.”

“Yes, there’s an apartment, I have the lease but if you decide to move, it’s all yours.” I couldn’t believe that he was offering all this.

“I feel like you’re a good fit for me too, Henry.” I took a deep breath.

“But?” I shook my head.

“I’m not sure if there is one.” His eyes brightened up. “I want to go.” His blue eyes brightened.

“Really? Are you sure?” He was smiling as he spoke. “Yeah, I think I need a change of scenery.”

“I’m sure you’ll need some time to get things sorted out. I’ll give you my number before we go, I’m going back to London tonight, but I want to keep in touch.” I blinked.

“Oh, you’re leaving?” My brows were furrowed. I didn’t like not having a more time with him before moving my whole life.

“Yes, unfortunately. I have some script readings there coming up, though I would really like to stay and get to know you a little bit better.” He leaned closer to me. “Take you out a few more times too, but I can’t. This time.”

“This really isn’t what I’m used to.” I cleared my throat.

“I can tell, but you’re hard to read. What are you thinking?” I flinched back a little at his bluntness.

“A lot of things. Everything’s flying around my brain right now.” I let out a chuckle. “London holy shit.” I covered my mouth. “Sorry,” Henry laughed loudly, and it made me laugh too.

“Don’t worry, I can handle a little swearing.” He smiled at me. “I know it’s a lot all at once, so just take your time. Keep in touch with me while you do.”

“London? London!” Irene squealed. She jumped up and down, and then grabbed my arm. “I can’t believe you’re moving to London.” Her smile fell though. “You’re moving to London.”

“Oh, Irene,” I hugged her neck. “If you don’t want me to go, say it.” Leaving her behind would be hard.

“No, I want you to go. I mean I don’t want you to go, ugh. You know what I mean.” She hugged me back. “This’ll be good for you. A new start.”

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” I mumbled.

“I’ll miss you too.” I heard her sniffle and then she pulled away. “But this is exciting. A good thing! We’ll have to start packing, I’ll help you.”

“Once I’m settled and everything. You’ll have to come visit.” I smiled at her. With the pay raise I was about to get I would fly her out by the end of the year.

“You have to come back for Christmas, or my mom will be pissed.” I laughed thinking about Irene’s mom. She used to yell at us for smoking weed out Irene’s window.

“I will be there.” I only packed a little bit with Irene, then we got distracted and ended up watching Narcos again. Then we fell asleep.

Within the next month and a half, I was staring at my empty room. I had decided to keep paying my half of the rent until Irene found a smaller place. I could afford it for a while at least. I had done all the paperwork for the company, and my work visa. Most of my bigger things had been mailed to the apartment and I had a larger suitcase of clothes and things I would need right when I got there. I took a deep breath, and I wanted to chew my fingernails.

“Nina, are you ready?” Irene called.

“I think so.” Irene was sending me off, and that is what I was dreading.

“Come on, we can’t be late.” I rolled my suitcase out and sighed.

“Bye apartment,” I muttered.

“You have to send me pictures, and maybe some sneaky ones of Henry.” She winked.

“You weirdo, but I will.” We laughed and then my eyes welled up. “If you really want me-“

“No, I want this for you and besides how else am I going to get to see London?” She had tears in her eyes. “Stop crying, you bitch.”

“You stop!” I hit her shoulder and then we hugged.

“Be safe and don’t be a shut in.”

“Okay,”

“And call me anytime if you need me. And- “

“Irene, I will.” She let me go.

“Come on, your Uber is here.” She didn’t want to do the goodbye at the airport. I don’t think she could hold out on letting me go for the ride. When the driver pulled away, leaving her on the sidewalk I had to think about something else to keep from crying.

The flight was long. I never wanted to see the inside of a plane again, but it was stopped now, I was waiting to get my bag from the overhead and trying to check my phone without elbowing someone. Henry and I had been texting or calling throughout the whole process. He asked about my life quite a bit, and I tried to ask about his but, he never gave away much. The last text I got before my flight boarded, was from him, saying he wouldn’t be able to meet me at the airport anymore. He was sending someone for me though. A very rich person thing to say. He hadn’t sent anything else since that message and I sighed. He was a busy guy and sometimes took a long time to text back, and sometimes that bothered me.

I could finally get to my bag, so I snagged it and got in line with the rest of the passengers. I was in London. A completely different country. I grinned into my phone. I texted Irene that I was here, and then told Henry. I decided to ignore my phone, so I didn’t trip on my way out of the plane.

“Henry’s so sorry he couldn’t make it. His schedule gets mixed up sometimes.” The tiny red head smiled at me. Her name was Penny, Henry’s assistant. “But he wanted me to personally come get you.”

“Thank you so much, Penny.” I gripped the straps of my bag.

“Of course, dear.” She was vampire too, I wondered how long she and Henry had known each other. “The baggage claim is this way.” We through the motions of getting my bags and she led me out to a black car, the driver came out to help me with my luggage. Penny and I got in. The driver got in and looked over to us.

“To Henry’s, Penny?”

“Not today,” She handed him a sticky note. “There’s the address.” She patted my knee. “We’ll get you settled at home today.” I was excited to see the apartment in person, but I was curious to see Henry’s place. The drive was way longer because of the traffic, but we drove past Big Ben and a few other famous places. It distracted me from the crazy driving.

The car stopped and Penny unbuckled. I followed her as she opened the door and slid out. My feet hit a sidewalk. I looked up and saw an apartment building. It looked older, but it had modern looking steps and doors.

“This is it. It’s a bit out of the main part of the city, but it’s closer to Henry’s place.” The driver took my suitcase all the way through the lobby and to the elevator. Penny pressed the third-floor button and we went up, the driver staying on the first floor. When the doors opened Penny lead me a few doors down and unlocked one.

“Here you are, dear.” She showed me around. The living room and kitchen were in one open room, an island separating the spaces. It wasn’t huge, but it was perfect for just me. “Your bedroom and bathroom are down that way,” There was a short hallway with only three doors. “Plus, a closet there.” Henry had most of the place furnished, I got some things myself though. I rolled my suitcase into the bedroom, a bed and desk in there.

“Thank you, Penny.” I came back to her.

“Of course! Henry told me that the fridge is stocked up, but I think that’s everything.”

“It was nice to meet you.”

“You too, Nina.” She left and shut the door behind her.

“Holy shit.” I let myself say as I took my own tour of the new place. I went to the kitchen first. Penny said it was full and I was starving. I made myself a sandwich and then went to the living room. There was a smart TV hung on the wall and there was a big comfy couch to sit on. I sunk into it as I fiddled with the remote, figuring out how to play music on TV. Once I did, I went to my bedroom and started filling the small walk in closet with my clothes. I found my bed sheets too and put them on. My blankets still smelled like my old apartment.

I was plopped on my bed, the long flight and time difference catching up with me. I couldn’t sleep yet, it was only three, but my pillow seemed to be calling me. No, that’s my phone vibrating. I pulled it out and saw Henry’s number on screen. I took a breath and answered.

“Hello?”

“Nina, hey, settling in okay?”

“Yeah, I love the apartment. It’s perfect.” I smiled, even though he couldn’t see me.

“Good, I’m glad. I was wondering if you’re up to it tomorrow would like to go to lunch?” I chewed on my lip.

“Yeah sure! Hopefully, jet lag doesn’t make me sleepy.” He chuckled.

“If you feel too tired, we’ll do it another time.” I heard someone in the other end calling out Henry’s name. “I’ve gotta go, actually, I thought I had longer to talk.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow,” I smiled as he hung up. I picked a show to binge after and stayed awake for as long as I could. When I woke up, the sun was just starting to rise. I couldn’t fall asleep so I made some tea, Henry had gotten some of my favorites, we had talked about tea for some reason during one of our conversations during the past month. I smiled into the steaming mug and went over to the armchair, turning it towards the window so I could watch the sun rise. As I finished the last of my drink my phone buzzed.

Hey, how was the first night in London? Your packages should be there today, or yesterday haha! Love you. Call you at 7.”

I smiled at Irene’s message. We had looked up the time differences and decided that 7 o’clock would be the best time for me to call her. I can’t remember what her time was, but I was excited to talk to her. Plus, the rest of my stuff should be here. I got up and put my mug in the sink. At around 8 my packages came, and I started unpacking. I some extra clothes and furniture I wanted to bring with. I was filling the bookcase in my bedroom with all my books when Henry’s number lit up my screen.

“Hello?” I pressed the phone in between my shoulder and ear as I shoved Stephen King’s It on the shelf.

“Hey, you still up for lunch?” Shit. I forgot about lunch. I was still in my PJs and my floor was covered in boxes and items I didn’t have spots for yet.

“Oh, um,” I chewed on my nail.

“If you’re not up to it, I have another proposition.”

“Which is?”

“I could just pick up something and come over.” I blinked at my messy apartment.

“Well, the rest of my things got here, and my place is a shit show.”

“Perfect, I’ll help you unpack.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,”

“I know, but I’d like to. If you’re okay with it?” I sighed.

“Okay, can you bring Chinese then?” He chuckled.

“Yes, I can.” We picked out our food and hung up. I finished putting my books away and got dressed. I felt like I had barely made a dent in the unpacking when Henry finally knocked on the door. I ran over to get it, excited for food more than anything.

“Hi,” I smiled, grabbing the food from him. “Thank you for this, and sorry about the boxes.” He stepped in and shut the door. I took the bag to the island. His beard had grown out completely He was wearing a tank top and my eyes wouldn’t leave his biceps.

“You’re welcome, love.” I sat down at the island before my weak knees could give away the fact that love affected me so much. “Where should I start?” He looked over the room of boxes. I opened up my food and started eating.

“Um, well, my other bookshelf needs to be built.” I pointed to the wooden pieces I had taken apart at my old place. The one in my bedroom had filled up. I’d put this one out in the living room and display some of my favorites.

“Other bookshelf?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“The one in my bedroom is full.” I shrugged. He chuckled and went to work. When I finished, I went to a box of photos and wall art. I started picking places for them to hang and snuck glances at Henry as he built up the shelves. At the moment he concentrated on the level of the shelf, brows furrowed at the wood. I chewed on my lip and went back to hanging up a picture of Irene and I at a house party in college.

“Who’s that with you?” I jumped, Henry was behind me, looking over my shoulder.

“My best friend Irene. We were roommates before I moved.” I smiled at the picture. We had dressed up as Velma and Daphne. “It was Halloween our freshman year I think.” He looked at me.

“You look good in glasses.” He stated and walked back to the shelf.

“Thanks,” I cleared my throat, finding another picture and hanging it.

“Okay, I think it’s done.” Henry tapped the bookshelf.

“Yay, thank you.” I found my other box of books and slid it over. He opened it and we pulled out books.

“Ah, Stephen King.” He had The Shining in his left hand and The Gunslinger in the other. He was currently looking at the back of The Gunslinger.

“Yes, my all-time favorite.” I had The Great Gatsby and The Witcher in my hands. I put The Witcher behind my back, pursing my lips.

“What’s that one?”

“The Great Gatsby.” I held it up. “My favorite book.” He shook his head.

“The one you just hid.” I pulled the book back out and showed him the cover. The biggest smirk I had ever seen spread over his face. “You are a fan.” The smirk turned into a full-sized grin. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Yes, I am. I love the show so much.” I smiled. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He looked anything but, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“No, not at all. I’m glad.”

“So now that that’s out of the way, when’s the new season coming?” I laughed and he joined.

“Unfortunately,” He clicked his tongue. “I can’t tell you that.” I pouted.

“Fine. It was worth a shot.” I shrugged. We started putting books up, Henry reached over my head to get the ones on the top shelf for me.

“What are you gonna do if you want to read these?” I handed him the last Game of Thrones books.

“I’m probably not going to read those beasts again,” He chuckled. “But I guess I’ll just have to call you.” I high fived myself in my head. I wasn’t usually that smooth.

“Okay, love.” I shut my eyes; would I ever get used to that. It was a normal thing in the UK but it made my heart skip. We filled it and still had some space to spare. I filled it with some more photos and decorative things. It looked nice.

“Perfect!” I clapped. “Thank you, Henry.”

“Of course, what’s next?” I looked around at what was left of my boxes. Most were already broken down. What was left was a few things I just needed to find a place for or needed to be packed away in back in storage.

“I think it’s pretty much done. I just need go through those boxes.” There were only two thankfully. Henry smiled and I sat on the couch.

“How’s London been so far?” Henry sat down, on the one end. He leaned back, his arm laying on the back, close to my head.

“I haven’t really gone out yet.”

“As soon as I can I’ll take you to see all the sights.” I smiled.

“I’ll make a list.” He smirked but laughed.

“So, what did your friend, Irene, think of you moving?” I pulled my legs up to sit criss cross.

“She was sad but wanted me to go. I miss her though.” Henry nodded, and then it was quiet. I looked over at him and he was staring up at a painting I hung on the wall. He hadn’t taken any blood from me throughout this whole process. “Um, Henry, I was wondering, you haven’t fed,” I cleared my throat. “Yet, and if you need to, just ask.” He took a deep breath and turned his head back to me.

“As long as you’re comfortable enough. I didn’t want to spring it on you our first day together.” I shook my head.

“Thank you for that. But I think I’m good now.” He moved closer to me and our knees touched. I swallowed.

“If you’re sure, I’ll only take a little today. I wanted to take it slow.” I nodded, then he grabbed my hand. “Is from your wrist okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He held my wrist in his big hands like it was going to break. I gulped and shut my eyes; I don’t think I could watch this man put his mouth on me right now. I leaned back on the couch as he brought his lips to my wrist. He pressed them gently on the inside of my wrist and goosebumps rose on my entire arm. I sucked in a breath when his fangs pierced the skin and the familiar stinging sensation sprouted from his mouth. Then it faded to tingling warmth. The feeling felt good as he drank. I had to focus on my breathing so I wouldn’t focus on other things. The tingles were hitting every inch of me. I took a shaky breath and he let me go. The tingles slowly fading. He let me bring my wrist back and sighed.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” I opened my eyes, smiling at him, through the little buzz I was feeling. I stood. “Let me just get a band aid,” I quickly went to the bathroom and shut the door. I leaned against it and tried to calm my heart down. It never felt like that with my last client. Maybe similar, but something was different about that. It was more intense. I grabbed some band aids and stuck it on the small marks now on my wrist. I splashed some hot water on my face and went back out. Henry had gone into the kitchen and was getting a glass out. I sat at the island.

“How about some water?” Henry asked me. I nodded as he filled the glass and set it in front of me.

“Thank you.” I took a drink.

“Thank you. Make sure you drink all of that.” I nodded.

“I will. I’ve done this before, remember.” He nodded.

“But still, drink it and eat a good dinner tonight.” I grinned at him, his instructing me making me feel good.

“I will.” I gave him a firm nod and he laughed. I took another drink.

“I wanted to ask you, how do you feel about dogs?”

“Oh, I love them. You have one right?”

“Yes, Kal’s my best friend.” I smiled.

“You should’ve brought him here!”

“Next time.” He promised. He took a breath to speak, but then his phone rang. He rolled his eyes. “Hang on,” I crossed my arms on the counter and rested my chin on them, watching him as his face changed as whoever it was spoke. “Alright, fine. Are you sure I can’t-“ He hmmed, forehead scrunched. “Okay, give me an hour.” He hung up and I raised my eyebrows. “It was Penny, I’ve got to go to this meeting-“

“For The Witcher?” I chuckled and his forehead relaxed again as he smiled a little. “It’s okay. You helped out a lot already.” He walked over to me and kissed my cheek, squeezing one of my shoulders as he did.

“Thank you, I’ll call you soon.” He walked out and I locked the door behind him. I went back to my water and felt my eyes start to droop. I always got sleepy after feeding. I took a long drink and brought the rest to my bedroom. I got in my blankets and it didn’t take long for me to close my eyes.

The bright morning sun shined in through my windows, casting a lovely light on Henry’s curls and baby blues as he worked his way down naked torso. I bit my lip, my hands already fisted in the sheets. His beard tickled my stomach and I let out a giggle. He kissed just under my belly button and I whimpered.

“Please, Henry.” My voice was a pathetic whisper, and he smiled into my skin, dragging his teeth gently over it.

“We’re using please, now are we? How desperate are you?” I moaned out at his words. His low tone hitting me in my core.

“Please,” Suddenly his hands came from under my legs, his shoulders pressed against the back of my thighs, head just above where I need him most.

“I do love a girl with manners.” The palms of his hands pressed my stomach down so I couldn’t move. Then his open mouth landed on my pussy. I squirmed and moaned at the sensation. His lips, his tongue. I could barely keep track of what they were doing it felt so good. My breaths were ragged when I wasn’t moaning. My hands tangled into his hair and his beard tickled my thighs. “So, good, baby.” He mumbled and the air sent chills through my body. He looked up at me, his blue eyes dark. He pressed the flat of his tongue on my slit and dragged it up and I gasped, squirming under his grip. I could hear his mouth on me and the sounds only added to the pleasure. God, it felt like I was coming undone.

“Oh god, Henry.” I could feel it coming, I was close. I shut my eyes. “I’m gonna-“

I shot up in my bed, but it wasn’t morning, the sun was going down. There wasn’t a large blue eyed man under my sheets either. I slumped over, the back of my neck sweaty and my breathing was hard. I pressed a hand to my forehead, eyes wide. One feeding and he was already in my dreams?

“Fuck.”

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