#let my man BREATHE. i know he's shite at the game but JESUS!!!!!!

[loverboylen]

can someone do a wellness check on skizz. he was under so much stress today it was actually insane

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh Part 4

a/n: I LIVE FOR THESE MANAGER SEIJOH ASKS LIKE BLS TAKE OVER MY LIFE

(i originally planned to write the other schools for the manager scenario like theyre already in my drafts with plans and partly written out but like seijoh is my TOP PRIORITY (sorry pls dont hate me) BC THEY ARE MY BOIS)

also, most of my ask box is all for a kyoken ending and kyoken fluff and aoba johsai fluff and im quaking bc this is spurring me to create more aoba johsai imagines and my love for the other schools is just like being overshadowed by our little plant babies :’)

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon request: Im the anon who mentioned the chaos about the dating and can I say I love it!!! 🙏🙏 i kinda have this hc for the boys that they fight whenever they go on bus rides, just because they want yn to sit next to them. But she usually sits next to the calmer members?? The reason the boys fight?? She may or may not have fallen asleep a few times, her head on kyo/iwa shoulder. 🥺🥺

LMAO THAT PART JUST REEKED CHAOTIC ENERGY AND SHE WOULD TOTALLY SIT NEXT TO THEM JUST TO SPITE THE OTHERS AND I LOVE THE IRONY LIKE THE MOST AGGRESSIVE LOOKING ARE THE SOFTEST AND CALMEST TOWARDS HER LIKE PLEASE KYOKEN AND IWA ARE JUST LITTLE SOFT BEANS AND DESERVE THE WORLD

(bruh im so soft for iwa and kyo like my best bois and i must write them out IMMEDIATELY bc theyre so uggghhhhhh!!!!!!!)

MY TWO MEN IN ONE GIF GOD HAS BLESSED ME-

oh dear

bus rides,,,,, yep here we go

the team is usually peaceful and civil w each other (minus iwa literally beating oiks up but thats irrelevant information)

like they dont really have fights or have any arguments bc they meet up every saturday to talk about the week and if anybody had any concerns or anything they were mad about since it was like a family meeting

but boy oh boy

when you entered this family,,, arguments and misunderstandings happened once a week

‘no! y/n-chan said she was going to go shopping with me!’

‘um, she already agreed to go to to the arcade w me’

‘wait, she told me we were going to go visit that cafe!’

yes you agreed to do those things w them but you never assigned a date

your attention was something that these boys were always wanting since they only see you during club hours and practices

their jealousy gets really ugly sometimes and the two first years actually get all smug about it 

‘hm, y/n, we still up for studying later?’

you ruffled his hair and smiled up at him

‘yep! we need to set an alarm though or else i’d end up staying after 1 in the morning again’

‘great. cant wait’

kunimi rarely shows any emotion towards his senpais but they couldnt miss the smug smirk that made oikawa grip the volleyball and mattsun holding him back

god hes such a little shite

everyone knows that the first years have a upperhand than them bc of your same grade so the upperclassmen were much more sensitive to spending time with you outside of practice

and they liked to spend that time wisely

when the time for away games come, you weren’t that worried about it

i mean,, why would you when boarding the bus is going to be so early in the morning at like 4 in the morning and theyd be sleeping the whole time so you get peace and quiet

in fact, you were looking forward!

but nope!

jesus took the wheel and said no

instead, you were watching the team members shouting and yelling at each other at the asscrack of dawn

say sike rn

the 2 coaches were actually not there yet so they werent able to help you and whip the boys to order so here you were, bleary eyed and clearly still tired, sighing and rolling your eyes at the fight

‘SHE SITS WITH ME! IM TEAM CAPTAIN! I GET DIBS!’

‘NO! YOU DROOL ON HER AND MESS UP HER CLOTHES! YOU LIKE MAKKI-SENPAI MORE, RIGHT, Y/N-CHAN?!’

now you might be asking me, ‘author-chan, why are they fighting so hard for something as simple as a bus ride?’

well, my young grasshoppers, this is not just a simple bus ride

you are infamous in the team to be a sleeper

no matter what form of transportation, bus, car, any surface, you found yourself in dream land

yall i wish i was like that

the sleep paralysis demon beside my bed says otherwise

they freak out and fight over even a simple touch of affection from you, do you really think they wouldnt fight tooth and nail to being your pillow and freely watching your adorable sleeping face?

these men are fighting as if they were fighting something serious like a world war

lmao with how intensely theyre fighting, it practically is

but there were two players who actually didnt care either way since they only wanted you to be the most comfortable and they werent exactly the most squishiest members

in fact, they were basically all muscle and probably not the most comfortable

NOPE I BELIEVE THAT IWA IS IN FACT ONE OF THE MOST COMFIEST AND BEST PILLOWS IN THE ENTIRE HAIKYUU UNIVERSE

totally not my bias talking or anything

so it was no surprise when they didnt get themselves involved

iwa was already done w them and goes in the bus because mom deserves a nap

naturally, kyo follows the leader and boards the bus after him, leaving the others to fight it out in the school parking lot

you were happy that they were too distracted that they wouldnt notice you sneaking away into the bus and you were slightly disappointed that out of all the seats, kyo had to sit in the one-seater by the front

so you immediately went over to the other person, who was iwa-san, and he was just settling in, pulling out his teal blanket

you blinked at him when he caught you stare but he gently smiled before opening the blanket

‘i was never a fan of window seats anyways’

you happily bounced over to him and you placed your bag at the overhead compartment bc seijoh is bougee and can afford everything before you climbed over him to the seat next to the window

iwaizumi tried to make you as comfortable as he can so he kept the seat divider thing yanno what im talking about? between you

but his eyes widened when you casually pulled it up and snuggled closer to him

youve done this before so he opened his right arm for you to cuddle closer but he was still surprised 

meanwhile,,,

you just closed your eyes with a smile as you pulled the blanket to your chin and practically glomped yourself to iwa

ugh im so jealous of you!!!!!!!!!!

‘hmmmm, youre so warm iwa-san. youre like,,,,, jacob from twilight’

his eyebrow quirked and he smiled, wrapping his arm around you and tightly holding you close

‘oh? the werewolf?’

he felt your head nod

‘mhm. so warm, and strong, yet so gentle and soft’

by now, both your legs were already swung over his lap and head on his chest as you sat sideways

his fingers traced circles around your middle as his other hand was fiddling with your fingers

‘didnt he like mark a little girl?’

‘iwa-san dont talk about that!’

his laugh grumbled his chest and you giggled, trying to become even closer towards his naturally warm chest and inhale his scent

lavender mixed with peppermint

it was such an odd combination from the people you knew and you were immediately drawn to it

thats why you usually wore his jacket rather than your own

he always gets confused as to where it is but you steal it and watch him look for it

you didnt hear that from me though

it didnt take a long time for you to fall asleep and by the time the 2 coaches finally arrived and yelled at the players, they were already late

‘oikawa, i thought youd handle this properly!’

oiks whimpered from the coach’s scolding but apologized then pushed everyone in

the sight in front of them made them both boil in jealousy and squeal in uwus

you, the softest and sweetest and kindest little flower human being, being cuddled up to iwaizumi, the brute and bara arms and the ultra macho strong man, who had his head on top of you

KYAAAAAAAA

even though they knew you were a heavy sleeper and iwa slept like a rock, they still quieted down and silently walked over to their seats, hissing and shushing at anyone who even made the slightest bit of noise

rustle of the bags?

SSSSHHHHHH

seat creaking as they sit down?

SSSHHHHHHHH

they only let this slide bc your sleeping face was just so cute and they didnt have the heart to wake you up

and also face the wrath of titan iwa and be thrown into the atlantic ocean like oikawa did one time

when you finally arrived at the stadium, they waited for a rough 10 minutes just to figure out how to wake you up

they didnt want to wake up iwa first and have him yell at them but they didnt want to wake you up first either

but kyo didnt understand the dilemma and instead just goes to the back where yall were at and he goes to the seat behind you so he could reach you easily and tickles your cheek

the team is just like 👁️👄👁️

your nose scrunches at this tingling sensation until it continues so you open your eyes and finds kyo just smiling down at you

oiks is literally shaking bc he could see the smallest smile on kyo’s face

‘wake up’

with his gruff voice, it sounded like he was ordering you around but you knew he couldnt help it and blinked tiredly at him, giving him a smile of your own

‘hm, hi kyo-san’

you winced at the sudden appearance of the sunlight and that made you fully wake up before flinched at the eyes of the other players

‘hello, everyone’

you said slowly and you sat up, noticing iwa still sleeping

oiks held his breath bc hes been friends w iwa since he was still a baby and he knows that its like waking up a sleeping dragon

‘wait y/n-chan-’

but you didnt listen and poked his nose

‘iwa-san? iwa-san, we’re here’

you cooed and the poking made his eyes flutter open and with his head still tilted to the side, he swore he saw an angel by the way the sunlight hit the back of your head giving you a smiling angel effect

hm, i could get used to seeing this when i wake up

you grinned and when he finally stretched, you sat up stright, waiting for iwa to get up so you could slide out

but kyo was an impatient little bean and just hoisted you out of there and towards him behind the seat

‘come on. i got your bag’

he mumbled and you nodded, letting him hold your hand

lmao wait i forgot the time this is set

this is set during the 2nd inter-high okay? okay

oiks was still complaining at kyo and iwa hogging you but you didnt listen and continued walking towards the entrance, glancing around at the other teams

as usual, oiks and iwa were walking to the front bc yanno, captain and vice-captain, while you and kyo walked at the back, mainly bc you didnt want any player to stray off like kindaichi did last time and look for him for hours

kyo gripped your hand and you turned your head to look at him to see his eyes glaring at anything

you chuckled which made him look down at you, the glare slowly disappearing

‘hm, kyo-san, you should really invest in contacts. it doesnt matter if wearing glasses makes you feel like a nerd bc you still need it to see’

he scrunched his nose when you scolded him and he was about to retort when him and the team caught the whisperings of the nearby teams

‘oh my god, seijoh and the beautiful manager’

‘how old is she? i hope shes at least a second year’

‘ngh id tap that’

IM BLEEHHHHH

‘is he her boyfriend? if so, the competition isnt that hard then’

kyo growled and was about to lunge at the yellow jacketed boy but you held him back, also worriedly looking at your boys

‘seijoh, down’

you ordered and they shrunk back, opting to just glaring heatedly at the other teams

you could still feel kyo shaking at rage to them sexualizing you but your hands squeezing him and the other hand rubbing his arm helped him control it

‘dont make a scene, kyo-san. its your first competition since your suspension, right? and you love volleyball so please keep it in. i can protect myself’

you whispered but he let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close and continuing to glare at everyone as if he was asserting dominance

‘if they touch you-’

‘ill kick them between the legs, i know. you told me already’

you teased and he hummed in agreement

when they played, they were at ease bc the two coaches were there and they were also protective of you like their own so they wouldnt have to worry about someone to go after you

however,,

as they were warming up for the second game, you had to quickly fill up their water bottles bc they were already tired and dehydrated so you needed to fill them up

and they were all busy and you didnt want to bother them and you were going to be quick anyways so you just took the case of bottles and ran to the nearby water fountain

you were hurriedly filling them up and at your last bottle, you were about to cap it when you felt a presence behind you

he stood close and his arms snaked around your waist but you hurriedly tightened the lid and whacked him at the head with the heavy bottle

you continuously hit him and kicked him between the legs before hitting him again

‘DONT TOUCH ME AGAIN!’

you shouted and iwa and kyo were watching from the end of the hallway, panting from running so fast since they heard your shouts

okay a little flashback,

kyo was watching you from his perepharal vision and when he went up to spike, he took his eyes off of you for ONE DAMN SECOND and you nyoomed out of there

when he didnt see you anywhere, he wildly looked around and this caught the attention of the vice-captain

‘oi! kyotani! whats wrong?’

‘y/n. where is she?’

they took off running and the team was just like what

then they heard shouts and kyo knew it was you

his mad dog senses

hehe get it

he as about to tackle the guy but he saw you beat him with a water bottle and eventually taking another bottle and kicking him and hitting him with the two waters

the player cowered and scrambled to get away bc wow this girl was psycho

um no sir, she was protecting herself from hormonal testosterone filled children like you

‘YEA GO RUNNING! COME TO ME AGAIN AND ILL BEAT YOU UP HARDER! DISGUSTING! TRASH! GROSS! SCUM!’

maybe it was because the last time you were touched without consent was when you got bullied but you were definitely fighting harder and more aggressive at protecting yourself

you turned around and the rage from your eyes disappeared when you saw the two boys there

‘hey iwa-san! kyo-san! sorry, i needed to fill the water bottles!’

you grinned and placed the bottles back to the case before lugging it up

my god their eyes were shining

yep, thats my girl

when their games were over for the day, they made their way to the exit where the bus was at and you and kyo stayed behind again

you caught the eye of the guy and his team and you and kyo glared at him, both wearing a sadistic smile

UGH YALL ARE COUPLE GOALS I SWEAR

kyo even went up to him and the team shrunk leaving the guy standing there in fear at the look on his face

‘listen, i dont like it when my baby girl gets touched by filthy shite like you. so do it again, and ill chop those damn fingers of yours, got it?’

lmao he’ll come for your ankles

the guy just nodded in fear while his team were cowering at the back

you chuckled and pulled kyo to go bc as much as you liked watching this, you needed to go to the bus to go home

‘cmon, kyo, i want to go. im getting a headache from the smell of garbage’

he shifted his gaze to you and sent you a soft smile

‘okay. lets go’

hah you thought it ends there?

kyo is a dramatic little shite so he made a show of grabbing your waist and kissing your temple before flashing them a finger

oiks was tapping his foot impatiently at the bus and when you and kyo emerged from the entrace, he was about to snatch you up but kyo stood in front of you

‘EH?! KYOKEN-CHAN, I WANT TO SIT WITH Y/N-CHAN!’

‘no’

he said and didnt say anything else as he pulled you to the bus and into a two seater where you sat at the window again and he sat on the outside

‘hah? you want to sit next to me, kyo-san?’

you teased but he flushed red, hurriedly hiding in your neck

you laughed and brought a hand up to caress his nape

‘mhm’

he mumbled and you pursed your lips to hide the squeal

‘youre so cute, kyo-san’

‘not cute’

‘very cute’

‘no’

‘AM I CUTE Y/N-CHAN?’

‘SHUT UP SHITTYKAWA’

kyoken got away from your neck and went to hit the captain 

oikawa screamed

a/n: my first week of school was so weird bc we only have like 2 days and the other days are just free days bc we havent really done anything except talk about our classes but im just hating this system like ugh i actually want to go to school bc ya girl is going to a tech school and this 2-day a week is not the vibe

[mymelodyheart]

Starting Over Chapter 22 ~The Tale of the Night Part One~

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!  

Claire's heart started to beat a little faster as their hired Bentley slowly inched closer to the Hilton Hotel Glasgow. They were following a long line of fancy cars waiting for their turn to pull up, step out and parade themselves. She felt Jamie's gentle squeeze on her hand, but it didn't help quash the feeling of apprehension. She'd promised Jamie to stand by him but seeing the throngs of excited fans and reporters behind the installed barriers, made her want to curl up in a fetal position and not leave the car.

"Sassenach, are ye alright?"

Huh?  She turned and looked at him and saw the worried lines etched on his face. She gave him a feeble smile. "I'm fine," she lied, trying to convince herself as well as him. "I know events like this draw crowds ... it's just that I didn't realise it would be as crazy as this. I-it's one thing seeing it on TV or pictures, but this ..." She leans forward and waves a hand, the frenzy screams and shouts, giving her jitters. "There's a bloody mob out there. It's insane!"

Jamie gently drew her sideways against him, tucking her in under his arm. "Some people from the movie industry will be there too, that's why. Events like this like to invite big names to attract the media. And Prince Harry will be making an appearance as well, most probably to promote the Invictus Games."

"Invictus wot?" she asked absentmindedly, her attention fixated on the excited crowd outside.

"It's a paralympic-style sporting event for injured military servicemen and women. It's a foundation launched by Prince Harry," he explained, following her gaze.

Only half-listening, Claire closed her eyes and tried to breathe normally, focusing on Jamie's hand on her arms. It helped a bit to soothe her nerves. For a split second of weakness, she thought of suggesting to let her slip into the back entrance and meet him inside the hotel lobby after his pap-walk but remembered her promise to stand by him tonight and dropped the idea. "Does this get any easier for you?" Claire asked, glad for the darkened windows that hid them from the flashing camera lights.

"What? This?" He puffed out his cheeks and blew out air. "No. The public looks like the giant scary monster, but truthfully, I dinnae mind the fans. The problem is the media. The media isnae journalism as ye know it anymore. They turn everything into a bloody circus show."

She shuddered, remembering her indirect first-hand experience with the reporters and how they've made her looked like the cheating fiancée and Frank, the virtuous, pillar of the society, who could do no wrong. "Tell me about it," she whispered.

"Stations and news will gobble up anything - the more sensational the story, the better, anything for the ratings. Ratings are everything. Ratings mean money and lots of it. Perhaps it really is just a matter of time before they're funding the nefarious for the consumption of the people. There's nae more moral compass, only the most immoral become the victors in this industry, and so on. Morality is for losers, winners are the ones who "pushed the envelope." He looked at her, and she didn't miss the subtle change in his demeanour. "As I told ye before, the tabloids will feed the public some shite by publishing pictures, and when it's captured at a right angle, it could be taken in any context ye want. The news' outlets delight on that because the fans can make up their own stories and they write articles based on their speculations."

"Has it ever happened to you?"

"What? Speculations? Aye. Many times. With my reputation, I'm fodder for other celebrities' publicist, especially when movies or projects need to be promoted. I tend to get used for that end. I'm not saying my reputation was a made-up lie. I'm not proud of it, but I own my shit. The problem with this industry is when ye want to use their platform or be part of it, be prepared to whore yersel' literally or figuratively." He lets out a short laugh. "Thanks to them and the publicity stunts, I've increased my followings on social media, which of course, opened other avenues such us modelling for big-name products even if I've never done that line of work before. The upside - it made me loads of money."

"So, you reckon the network will want something from you?"

"Aye, most probably. But ye'll have yer say in it, Sassenach. This is nae longer just about me," Jamie's mouth pressed into a determined line. "This concerns ye too."

"But, this job means the world to ye, Jamie."

He twisted around to face her, and his hand stroke her cheek. "Dreams and priorities change over time, Sassenach. Ye come first now because I'll need someone who will hold on to my soul in that crazy world out there. But I'm warning ye. If ye agree to let me take on the job, there'll be a lot of things ye'll not like and perhaps disappointments. Whatever happens tonight, I'll need ye to trust me in this. Ye dae trust me, aye?"

Claire squeezed his hand. "Yes, of course, I trust you." She nervously glanced through the windshield and saw there was only one car left in front of them before it was their turn to get off. "I meant to go over things with you, Jamie. What do you need from me out there?"

His face softened. "Just be yourself and smile. Ye dinnae need to answer questions from the press if ye dinnae feel like it. If ye do though, dinnae reveal anything personal and give them an arsenal for future use." He leaned in and gave her a kiss. "And thank ye for being here with me. It means a lot."

She nodded and smiled weakly, still dazed from the surreality of the upcoming moment when they would step out as a couple. It was quite apparent they were both not looking forward to going out there, and for Claire, it was one hell of a circus show to go through just for a presenting job.

"Ye sure ye'll be okay?" Jamie asked. "There's still time to turn around if ye wish. There'll be nae hiding once we step out." His tone was guarded and tinged with concern. "I ken I asked ye to stand by me. But I can go out there by myself, present the award, listen to what the network has to say and if I dinnae like it, I'll leave, and we can enjoy Glasgow for the rest of the evening."

The suggestion was too tempting, and it would be an easy way out. But Jamie could lose out on his dream job because he would choose her. She didn't want that. Claire turned and saw him looking at her thoughtfully, earnestly waiting for an answer, as the ghost of past heartache resurrected in her head. When James Fraser loved, it was scary. The man put his entire heart out with the expectation that it would be crushed. Sometimes she worried at the way he looked at her and at the way she felt for him. It seemed too precious and too rare to explore knowing if it didn't work out between them, the heartache would be greater. If she ever lost this man, she would never recover. If he ever lost her, she feared for the man that he would become. She could only hope that their relationship would survive Jamie's new career.

Swallowing the odd lump in her throat, she gave him her best smile and summoned the courage. If he's willing to sacrifice his dreams, she was prepared to at least try and take this on too before he gave it up altogether. "Hey I'm a big girl, remember. I can tough this one out," she whispered, attempting to sound cheerful.

His handsome face lit up. Grinning, he leaned in for a final kiss before grabbing the handle of the car's door. "Weel, let's do this then, Sassenach.".

..........

Ah, bloody hell, here goes nothing!  

Claire inhaled deeply and took Jamie's hand as she stepped out of the car. She felt like entering into another realm as she was greeted by frantic screaming, knowing it had more to do with Jamie's appearance than her stepping out. It was very loud, more than she'd imagined it would be with a crowd such as this, and the deafening noise was reinforced more by all the shouting, cheering, camera flashes, instructions yelled out by photographers at celebrities, and security and ushers barking orders.

"Jamie! Jamie!"

"We love ye, Jamie!"

"Jamie, please sign this!

"Jamie! This way, please!

"Jamieee, selfie please."

Jamie's hand tightened and tugged her forward, her eyes blinking and squinting against the flashing of bulbs and set of lights beaming down on them. He leaned down to say something, but she couldn't hear over the screams of hysterical fans. Although she'd been a fan of Jamie for years, she couldn't understand the over-the-top hero-worship and grown women shrieking whenever Jamie smiled, winked or waved. People crying and all these hysteria for a retired rugby player was simply just beyond her.  Heaven forbid Jamie ends up becoming an actor. Unbelievable!

Jamie led her to the top end where the broadcast outlets were, namely BBC, ITV as well as UKSC, the network Jamie might one day work for. He subtly reminded her when to stop and where to look as the photographers furiously took their pictures. His eyes were on her the whole time, a knowing upturn tugging his lips and his hand always pulling her against him. He kissed her for the cameras as if it was his way of announcing she was his, and although Jamie ignored requests from the journalists to introduce her, she obliged them, despite herself, by smiling for their lenses instead. Claire was surprised not one of the photographers had recognised her as the infamous  Runaway Bride . She hoped her unknown status would remain for the rest of the evening, but she knew reporters were like a dog with a bone and it was only a matter of time before they caught on.

"Hey, Jamie, who's the pretty lady with ye?"

"Can we have a name, please?"

"The dress is gorgeous. Who designed it?"

"Jamie, a quick interview, please?"

"Sorry ye lot, time for us to go in," he deflected, pretending to look disheartened while putting one hand dramatically over his chest and another, tugging her elbow and leading her away from the crowd and into the double doors of the hotel. 

What a charmer!   Despite Jamie loathing the media, he had a way with the reporters, whether they were women or men. Not once he showed a hint of annoyance even if she could feel it pulsing from his aura. He was evasive when people asked questions but somehow managed to get away with it with a smile or a wink, lending them a sense of mystery. Maybe Jamie was born for this. He did everything with ease and was full of self-confidence in front of the watchful eyes of the public. Whereas, her, she felt like she was caught up in a current, whirled and tossed in every direction. Her face hurt from endless smiling, hand numbed from Jamie's constant hard grip and her feet already throbbed from the ridiculously high stilettos. She hoped Jamie's charms would be enough to tide her over when the media finally finds out who she was.

One hurdle down, a million more to go!  Once they made it through the hotel's lobby, her first thought was to grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, but Jamie kept walking and steered her through groups of people, nodding and acknowledging with a smile those who glance their way. 

"It wasnae so bad, was it?" Jamie murmured against her ear as they positioned themselves at the least populous area of the lobby. "Ye look so beautiful tonight, and everyone thinks so too. Ye've captivated the press and the fans." He took a couple of champagne from a passing blonde waitress who was beaming up at him, but he didn't notice the awed gaze.

"Captivated? More like inquisitive," she replied, taking a huge gulp from the bubbly Jamie gave her and scanning the crowd. "The press is probably running my picture through some facial recognition software as we speak. I hope with the amount of makeup Geillis plied on my face, they'll fail at their attempt."

"That's not how facial recognition software work, Sassenach. The app distinguishes a person based on the person's features and shape."

"I was afraid you were going to say that. Let's just hope the software they're using is crap or dated."

Jamie laughed, taking a step closer in her direction "Dinna fash. Sometimes media exposure can work to yer benefit."

Claire looked up and saw the amusement in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Weel, for one, Frank will surely leave ye alone now. He wouldnae want to jeopardise his career in case ye talk to the press. I'm presuming he'd be thinking, ye've been considerably unpredictable ever since ye jumped out of the church's window. Controlling people don't like unaccounted for surprises. And ye're likely to do something spontaneous."

"I guess you have a point ..." She sipped her drink and quickly changed the subject. "What happens now?" she asked, watching the elite and sports' celebrities rub shoulders together, exchange air-kisses and posed for the cameras with subdued interest.

Claire had never seen so much pretentiousness in one room, and she'd mingled often enough in Frank's circle to make that distinction. The need to impress was so palpable in the air when, in actual fact, almost every individual present was talented and gifted in their own way. It was too showy and flashy for an event that was supposed to be all about honouring sportsmanship and sports in general. The only thing that seemed genuine was the designer clothes they're wearing and their expensive perfumes wafting through the air. It seemed like the long tentacles of the world of celebrities have crept into the world of sports, blinding them with glitz and glamour. It was definitely not a scene she could get used to, and she felt, Jamie couldn't either no matter how much self-confidence he exuded and wanted the job.

"We're just waiting for Forbes," Jamie explained. "I told him I'd meet him here and he's supposed to update me on his talks with the network." 

"Forbes is your agent, right?"

"Aye. And speaking of the devil, he appears." Jamie gestured toward the tall, blonde and handsome man in a dark blue business suit, walking confidently through groups of celebrities. "Showtime," he whispered, shifting on his feet.

She downed her champagne in two mouthfuls and watched Forbes stopped and shook hands with Andy Murray, Scotland's professional tennis player. It was apparent Jamie's agent knew a lot of famous people and appeared comfortable around them as he greeted and addressed a few more.

"Jamie!" Forbes strode towards them in a way a famous person might. His smile Hollywoodesque as he shook Jamie's hand. He was younger than Claire thought, midway through his thirties and almost as tall as Jamie. "Sorry to keep you waiting," Forbes apologised. "Got held up in the office and then stuck in the traffic."

Jamie nodded. "Nae bother. We haven't been here for too long." He put an arm possessively across her shoulders and pulled her in. "Forbes, this is Claire, my girlfriend." Forbes took her hand and kissed it, smiling over it when she blushed. She felt Jamie stiffened, indicative of his lack of credence towards his agent. 

"Call me Gerald. Forbes is my surname. I'm a long time friend and confidante of Jamie. I'm surprised he hasn't introduced you sooner, but I've seen you in the papers. Have to say you caused quite a stir in Edinburgh, and the pictures that were published haven't done you any justice at all. You're even more beautiful in person." He dipped his head as if his next words were meant only for her ears. "Jamie's reputation precedes him. As we all know, he has a keen eye for beautiful women."

Claire swallowed and yanked her hand back. "A keen eye for beautiful women, you say?" She glanced up at Jamie before looking at Forbes squarely in the eyes. "Too bad it doesn't extend to his instinctual perception on human nature. Jamie is too trusting for his own good."

Taken off guard by her reply, Forbes stared at her for a few seconds, trying to gauge her meaning. When she didn't smile, he was left with no other choice but to give out a fake laugh that was so over-the-top and loud, a few people glanced their way. Jamie disguised his choke with a cough.

"That's sports agents for ye," Jamie remarked, squeezing her shoulder. "Cannae live with 'em ..."

"Can't sign a deal worth a damn without them," Forbes added, plastering his toothpaste advert smile back on his face and dragging his attention away from her. "Well, Jamie, shall we go somewhere private and talk business?"

"No. We can talk here," Jamie said smoothly, releasing Claire to grab more glasses of bubblies from a passing waiter. "It's simple, really," he started, passing a glass to her and then to Forbes. "It's either the network and I are on the same page or not. So which is it?"

The mega-watt smile on Forbes dimmed, as he cast a quick glance at Claire before looking back at Jamie again. "I reasoned with the directors, and they've invited both of you at their table for further talks."

"And?"

Forbes tugged at his tie. "They still want you to do a pap photo with Geneva tonight. And it would be wise if we told the press Claire is your PA in case her identity leaks out."

"I'll do a promotional photo with Geneva if that's what they want," Jamie said firmly. "As for Claire's identity, the press or some random fan has probably already figured it out who she is. The fans aren't stupid." 

"Fine, so what if they've figured it out," Forbes sighed, lifting a hand in the air. "Just release a statement saying Claire's working as your PA while she's out of a job or something. Or a close friend who came with you as your plus one for tonight. Or just say nothing at all, and I'll release a statement to the press for you."

Noticing the tension between the two men, Claire placed a hand on Jamie's arm. "Shall I leave you both alone. I'll be just right over there," Claire intervened. She knew how important this job was for Jamie, and she was more than willing to remain hidden from the public if that's what it took.

"No," Jamie replied, grabbing her hand, in case she did walk away. "Please stay." He gave her a pleading look. She couldn't say no, so she simply nodded hoping they would come to some kind of resolution. Satisfied she wasn't going anywhere, Jamie turned his attention once more back to Forbes. "You will not release any statement on my behalf, and I will not discuss my personal life to the press. I've never had, and I'm not about to start now. Anyone who's got eyes knows Claire is with me and hundreds of pictures have already been taken when we arrived. The only thing I am willing to talk to the press about is my work."

"Jamie, there won't be any work if the directors found out you are with the  Runaway Bride  and even more so if the word gets out," Forbes argued impatiently. "We can make those pictures disappear, and nobody has to know about Claire. And it's for her own good too."

Claire tried not to flinch, but both men noticed. Forbes gave her an apologetic look and Jamie squeezed her hand.

"The directors said they specifically wanted that?" Jamie asked in disbelief.

Forbes sighed. "They want an unattached Jamie."

"And yet, they want me to parade myself with Geneva? That doesn't make any sense at all," Jamie countered.

"Look there's something I need to tell you about Geneva. And you can't tell another soul ..." Forbes paused and eyed Claire.

Jamie noticed Forbe's hesitation. "Claire won't say a word. She's a doctor and has a duty of confidentiality to her patients. So this won't be any different," Jamie reassured his agent.

Forbes nodded and lowered his voice. "There are rumours within the IOC that Geneva used performance-enhancing drugs during the Commonwealth Games and Beijing World Championships and she may be consequently be stripped off her medals ..."

"And how is that my problem?" Jamie challenged.

"Well, this is where you come in. You know that Geneva's dad, William, is one of the directors of the network, right?" When Jamie nodded, Forbes resumed. "The IOC isn't the problem, and the majority of the committee can be bought, but it won't stop the rumours circulating. So daddy dearest wants to paint a nice picture of Geneva for the public by giving her a few stints on the sports network. They want you both to host the London World Championship during rugby off-season. Her exposure will unveil her to the public as a clean-living athlete, and so when the rumours grow its head, the public will dismiss it as mere gossip. And also, they want the public to perceive you both as a couple. There'll be no need for you to announce you both are. A few pap photos here and there and the fans will do the talking. You're the ideal person for the partnership with Geneva because well, you know ... you were well-known for your discipline in rugby. No drugs, no alcohol, five times best player of the year, Scotland's national treasure and all that shit. Get my drift?"

"And why me?" Jamie asked warily. "Surely, there are other candidates with the same background in sports as I have, a better reputation and could talk comfortably and eloquently in front of the camera. I can think of five on top of my head, and they're all living nearer to London."

Forbes shook his head as if he couldn't comprehend why Jamie still hadn't understood yet. "You come from an old family, Jamie. A family with a solid background, good reputation and the public is more forgiving with your past indiscretions compared to your peers. And that alone carries a lot of weight in William Dunsany's eyes."

Jamie gave a burst of short mirthless laughter. "And here I thought I was being considered for the job because they saw a potential in me." He shook his head in disbelief and slapped Forbes on the shoulder. "Sorry mate, thanks but no thanks."

"Jamie! We're talking about a million-pound contract here and a place in the network for two years. That's an incredible amount of money for someone who doesn't have experience in mass media. No one is asking you to break up with Claire. Just keep things between the two of you under wraps. That's not difficult, is it?"

"Aye, it is! Have ye lived under the watchful eye of the press? Claire will be living with me. How am I suppose to keep our relationship under wraps? The answer is no. I'm not putting Claire under that pressure."

"William Dunsany is desperate. Maybe I can arrange a better deal for you," Forbes offered.

Jamie arched an eyebrow. "Why is he desperate?"

"William Dunsany is about to be bestowed a knighthood by the Queen, and he can't afford any scandal or gossip tainting his family name. He thinks Geneva being linked to you would shift the focus away from the rumours."

"Sorry, Forbes. It's one thing piling this whole shite on me but ..."

Forbes raised both his hands and gestured to both of them. "Talk about it, the two of you. And I'll go and talk to Dunsany and get you a better deal. I'll give you both half an hour to decide." And then he turned and strode away before either of them could say a word.

Jamie took Claire's glass and set it on the nearby table and faced her. "Do ye want to talk about this, Sassenach?"

"I think we should," she whispered.

Without another word, Jamie took Claire by the elbow and led them to an empty conference room. Once alone and away from the crowd, they sat on a nearby table facing each other.

Claire spoke first. "Jamie, I totally get it. The money doesn't mean anything to you, and I know you love me, and I also know you're willing to walk away from all of this because of me, but ..."

"Sassenach ..."

"No, Jamie, hear me out first, please," she insisted, wringing her hands as she searched for the right words. "You're here because you want to be part of that sport you love so much and want to start your own rugby academy with the money you'll earn. I know we talked about this in the car before we got here, but I don't want to be the reason for giving up your dreams. I can't live with that. When two people love one another, they nurture and support each other. I want you to do this thing in London and build your academy."

He smiled and took her hands from across the table. "Sassenach, I appreciate what ye're saying but it doesnae matter. Besides, I get the feeling ye dinnae like London much and the whole palaver with the paparazzi, and I cannae do it on my own if ye decide to send me away. I'd miss ye terribly."

It was true what Jamie said. She hated London, but she'd also hate it if she didn't get to see him every day and see where their relationship go. Maybe this was a test and opportunities like this only come once in a lifetime. Of course, they could make their own opportunities, but more often than not they are sprung on you like a dare to test your skills, to see if you could take that leap of faith to make whatever it was a success. To continue to be dictated by fear, an excellent opportunity might slip away. Frank already took away so much by inspiring self-doubt in her, and she didn't want to be afraid anymore. She needed to take that leap first, for the sake of both of them. And although Claire didn't like the idea that William Dunsany could get a knighthood from her life-changing decision, Claire had a feeling Geneva was being manipulated by her father. She wanted to be beside Jamie to make sure it wouldn't happen to him and at the same time reach out to Geneva and help her.

Confident she made the right decision, she stood up, walked over to him and sat on his lap. Linking her arms together around Jamie's neck, she planted a kiss on his lips and smiled. "What if I said I want to come to London with you, would that change your mind?"

[jckelly]

dear mum

[ jack kelly’s eulogy for his mother ] 

“I was supposed to say this shit at your funeral. I wrote it all out on a torn out page of my exercise book, on the flight over, when George was asleep and Claire was busy pretending to fuss. I think she gets a kick out of coddling me, stroking my hair, pretending I’m a baby again as if she can turn back the clock if she pretends enough, send me right back to toddler years so she can be the proud mum at the school gates acting like she gave birth to me. You’d fucking cackle if you saw it. You never liked babying me.

I was supposed to say this in the church, in front of the people who showed up - bit of a pathetic turn out, if I’m being honest, it was me, the vicar guy, Claire and George, and the latest social worker. Carole or summat. She stank of dog hair when she hugged me, I could feel Claire wanting to put my clothes in the wash straight away. She’s such a fucking clean freak, is Claire, all we have to be careful, it makes me want to jump in a swamp just to see what she’d say. She didn’t really talk to anyone, just George, so the crowd was pathetic and antisocial. You would’ve taken the piss out of it. But when I got into the church, I just couldn’t do it. I felt like my chest was tightening, I swear I couldn’t breathe for a moment and I thought I was gonna fucking pass out right there in front of the stupid alter. Claire squeezed my hand - Jesus Christ she’s one for hand holding - and was all you don’t have to do this and I bottled it. Gave up and let the vicar mumble some shite about ashes to ashes. He probably says the same thing for everyone. We played The Masterplan by Oasis - you would’ve liked that, I insisted on it and it was fucking epic in the church, Liam Gallagher fucking ringing out across the stupid place. Claire hated it, she was all wouldn’t a classical piece be better, I was like it is a classic, fuck off. And then it was over and we all went back to the hotel and I hadn’t even eaten yet and it was only eleven and it felt so fucking wrong that my day was barely starting and I’d already said goodbye to my mum and I didn’t even say a single stupid thing.

So I’m saying it now, in my bedroom with the door locked, smoking out the window - this joint’s for you, okay. Claire’s downstairs probably doing some late night googling - is my son depressed? How do you comfort your adopted son after his junkie mum dies? - and George is probably resisting the urge to come confiscate the weed because he can definitely smell it from there and I know Claire’s probably the only thing stopping him. So it’s just us, because to be honest, I don’t think you’re any more likely to be in a church than right here. We never went to church anyway, I don’t think I was baptised. I don’t really know anymore.

Mummy. You liked when I called you that, something about me sounding like a toddler made you feel younger. Not that you needed to sound any younger, you were well fucking young as it was. Fifteen when you had me, I remember being eight, nine, and the parents  at the school gate thought you were my sister. Sometimes you played along, I thought it was a funny game and I’m only just starting to realise it was out of shame, you never liked to admit what was really going on, but then again I never realised what was going on then. I thought all the kids got left for days on end while their mums went off to find ways to make ends meet, pasta in the cupboard and a step by the stove so I could stand on it to reach to turn the gas on and boil the water. I went back to that flat the other day, we had to pick up the last pieces of shit you’d left. It stank of mouldy vomit and piss, I swear the blanket you were sleeping on had fucking fleas and there was next to nowt in the entire place - they said you’d sold it all in the end, paying for your drugs with your bed and your clothes - but the step was still by the stove, as if you thought I was gonna come back and I might need to reach the cupboard.

I had a massive fucking panic attack right there by the step. You would have been ashamed. I couldn’t breathe and I think Claire was torn between calling a doctor and trying to comfort me, she didn’t know what was happening because it was just a step but it was never just a step or a flat or a room. It was your room, your step, your flat. It was what you did for me because you knew I was gonna come back and I’m so sorry I was too late, I’m so sorry I didn’t make it in time to save you. It’s my fault. It usually is.

You would’ve known what to say. You usually did. Noel, stop being a fucking dumbass, and somehow that would have sorted me right out as if nothing ever happened. (It was always Noel, never Jack, you always said you meant it that way - Noel Jackson Kelly, not Jackson Noel Kelly, you messed up when you went to register me because you didn’t have anyone to help.) Those were your words on my first day of school, slightly abridged, Noel, stop being stupid. And then you put that ring of your mum’s in my pocket, the one you never took off, just to make me feel like you were there with me.

I lied about that ring to some kid at school. I said I buried it with you. I didn’t want to admit you sold it years ago, just to pay for your heroin habit. There used to be a little mark on your finger whenever you took it off because you wore it so much, I guess that translated well into the marks on your arms. When the ring money wore out, you came to my high school - do you remember? I was fourteen and you were rattling the school gates, Jack honey do you have a fiver? A tenner? I’ll pay you back, I swear. And the fucking kids were muttering, going is that Jack Kelly’s mum? Nobody mistook you for my sister anymore then, the needles and the alcohol and the lifestyle had folded your skin, pushed premature wrinkles in. I couldn’t deny it when they asked, we looked too much alike, thanks for the freckles by the way, really fucking attractive. I didn’t really want to deny it. I didn’t care much if they said shit, I could beat most of them up even if I was shorter. They didn’t know fuck all about you. Nobody does. Claire wanted a restraining order after that, fuck her. You’re my mum. Not her.

Everyone always wants to see the fucking bad side. It’s morbid. I learned a word the other day in class: schadenfreude, means taking pleasure in other’s pain. That’s what everyone’s like, deep down. They like imagining you as some sort of monster because it makes them feel better, when they tuck their kids into bed in their nice houses in the nice areas of town, no sirens going off, to think that you’re completely different to them. That no matter what they do they’ll never end up like you. That’s not how it works. You could’ve been one of them, you could’ve had the nice place and the husband, if maybe you’d been born in a different place to different people and you hadn’t met whoever gave you your first high. Sometimes I imagine that. You in a nice dress in a nice house, there’s a man making dinner when I come back from school, maybe you have a degree or even you just finished secondary school. You have a nice job as a receptionist or a secretary or something normal. You’re smiling. I haven’t seen you smile properly in years.

Point is, I’m tired of them trying to make you sound like you don’t deserve to be loved just because you were sick. You had an illness, it’s the same like some people’s mums get fucking cancer. You didn’t want to be sick, fuck knows you tried to beat it, spent half your fucking life on methadone. They make it sound like you were never a mum. You’re my mum. You know more about me than anyone. Claire doesn’t even know what my favourite band is, as if I’m not named after fucking Noel Gallagher. Claire thinks she can buy motherhood with fake worry and acting like she cares. She doesn’t realise it’s not for sale because I had a fucking mother already and I don’t care if she’s in the ground. You’re always gonna be my mum. Doesn’t change.

I see you when I look in the mirror. Your nose, your eyes, your hair, your crooked smile and crooked teeth, neither of us ever bothered to get them sorted out and I’m glad. I’m half him, I know that, the elephant in the room, the man who stuck his dick in you to give you me, another inconvenience in a life full of mistakes. I’ve spent eighteen years without knowing him though, and I can spend seventy more because he gave you fuck all. I guess that makes me like him, in a way - all I got you was trouble, problems with the law because they thought you shouldn’t be leaving me then, visits from social workers who found your stash. All I did was mess your life up even more and then I let myself leave and I lie awake at night replaying all of the conversations me and Claire and you ever had about that and wondering why, why did I let it happen because I just know you would never have been so careless if you knew I was coming over next week or next month. You wouldn’t have done that to me. I know that. They don’t, but I do, and since when did it matter what George or Claire or any of the fucking social workers thought?

I miss you when I play Oasis. I miss you when I hear some stupid kid messing around on a guitar because I remember that one you had once upon a time before it got added to the list of shit you sold off. I miss you when I catch a reflection of myself smiling in a window or a shiny car, your smile again. One day I’ll stop remembering the way that smile looked, it’s been such a long time, and then your eyes will start to leave my mind, your thin lips, your hair. I need you still. I’m not ready to be by myself yet. The law says I’m an adult but I feel like a kid still, sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night thinking I’m being hurt and all I want is you to tell me I’m being stupid again, but you can’t do that. Not ever again. I’m not ready to accept that. Sometimes I catch myself imagining what I’m going to do when I come back home over the summer, I’m gonna clean up your flat again like I always do, make you dinner, clean up your arms. When I realise I can’t do those things again it’s like someone tipped ice water down my back.

I’m going to graduate in June. I know your mum and dad never did, even though what you said about them was next to nothing. I know you didn’t, because I arrived to fuck your life up. But I think you’ll be proud, somewhere, that a Kelly made it to finish secondary school. Maybe we’re not so cursed after all. Or maybe I’m the curse, and it’s just everyone around me who’ll get fucked up because of me, I’ll be the only one unscathed. I’m sorry I did that to you. I’m sorry I let this happen. I wish I could swap places. All I can say is I loved you, I love you, and I’m sorry.

Noel”

[theguildedtypewriter]

Hello and happy Smut Sunday! What were your OC's first sexual experiences like?

Hey!

Sorry, this is a day late, but my weekends are usually filled with chasing after the baby. 

Anyway, there are two first times that I’ve actually written down. One is the first for Hope when she’s with Ciaran. And the other, which is far less romantic, is the first time Red is approached for this as a part of her clan’s traditions, but thankfully she escapes it. She does go on to have her first sexual experience with a dear friend who she knows she’ll never see again.

Here’s Hope and Ciaran’s: 

Ciaran’s eyes were wide. He was frozen as Hope’s lips pressed against his. Nothing in all his life could’ve prepared him for the sensation that ricocheted through his body. He was sure he’d been electrocuted. The sharp, warm snap inside him was breathing fire through his veins and pumping it back into the core of his heart. Something, although he didn’t know exactly what, had changed in him forever, and the light, breathy touches from Hope weren’t even close to enough.

He knew this was going to happen. Ever since the bathroom, Ciaran’s brain had been trying to tell him that if he got close to Hope, he was going to lose it. He’d been alright, for like a second. But then she touched him, pressed herself to him, and it was all over.  

It was just too weird, though. He never felt aroused, not for so long, not after Marcus. God, he couldn’t think of that. How did this happen? He barely let Dimitri in, but here he was letting a woman he met less than a day ago make him feel… He didn’t know. Alive? Yeah, he felt alive for the first time in a long while. Hope got under his skin and wasn’t leaving, but how?  The only thing that ever got his attention was the dream. God, that’s it. She’s real and here. At least, I hope so. Oh, Jesus, do not let me wake up.

His erection strained inside his jeans and demanded to be inside of Hope, now. His heart thundered like he was running a marathon, and his grip on Hope tightened.

Ciaran cursed to himself, “Hope, I want, no, need to be inside ye.”  

He pulled her closer, the feeling of her soft breasts against his chest sending shock waves down his groin. He kissed Hope more, and she let his tongue dart inside of her. He stroked her tongue with his own and on every withdrawal nibbled at her plump bottom lip. Damn, he needed her so bad. It was nothing he’d ever felt before, and his head swam as image after image flooded his lust-crazed brain. The moan that escaped her lips between frantic kisses made him shiver. It was throaty and deep, and he felt her fingers dig into his shoulders.

Ciaran all but tackled her. He tried to cushion her fall to the floor with one arm and held his weight with the other. Her hair fell in a silky wave to cover. The graze in his side burned. Was he was hurting her?  Fear tickled at Ciaran’s spine.

Hope reached up, pulling him down to her mouth. The sweet taste and smell of her overwhelmed his senses. She let his hips push her legs apart and the hard length trapped in his pants pressed against her. So much for hurting her. 

“Ciaran…” Hope’s voice was barely a whisper and they continued to explore each other’s mouths. She was holding him tight against her body, breathing hard. The sight of her breasts moving up and down made his hand move on its own. He let his fingers press lightly, as he dragged them down the side of her neck to take her seductive breast in his hand and squeeze.  Hope arched and ground her hips against his. He pushed away the fabric caging her and tore the flimsy bra free.  

“Fuck…” Ciaran groaned.

With the lace gone, more of Hope’s perfect body was revealed, and it shot his arousal through the goddamn roof. The rosy, pink of her nipples would have been enough to ensnare him, but the icing on this particularly delicious cake was the gleaming metal beads that danced on either side of them. He’d never thought about pierced nipples, and now, he was obsessed. Ciaran had to have them in his mouth. To touch and play with the sinful, little beads that hugged the tips of her perfect breasts, which barely fit in his hand.  

“Oh, Hope, please, please let me kiss ye here,” Ciaran squeezed again, and Hope’s released a sweet moan, “Please, Hope, say it.”

 He had to hear her. He had to know she wanted this. He couldn’t force her. No one should have to do shite they do’na wanna. Should’na have… oh, god, get out of yer head.

“Yes, oh, god, yessss.” Good.  

Ciaran wanted to entice those sounds out of her over and over. He looked up at Hope as he licked one gloriously hard nipple. She was arched up off the floor, eyes closed tight, and gasping. It was the most sensual thing he’d ever seen. Ciaran wanted more. He wanted to taste all of her, every inch of flesh and every sweet drop of honey.  

The dress was off with barely an effort, and when he saw Hope’s skin in all its tattooed, pale glory, Ciaran nearly came.  

The artwork, which was one continuous tattoo, weaved all across her breathtaking body. It curved around the top of her shoulders to the inside of her arms and down to her fingers. He’d seen those, but the sweeping section that curved around her ribcage and down her flat stomach was new.  

The tattoo accentuated the sensuous curve of her breasts, scooping under them and meeting at her sternum, then jutting down to her navel. The black line traveled straight down to the front of her stomach to the top of her pelvis only to teasingly split again and run down the outside of her legs. And she sparkled everywhere, a jewel encrusted in each shoulder and hip.

Did he dare venture where that tattoo feared to go? Fuck, yes, he did. With a hand still grabbing one of Hope’s full breasts, he kissed his way down to her hips. Her alabaster flesh was framed in dark hair. Hope’s sweet, intoxicating smell was all around him and he hungered to taste the honeyed flesh of her core.

“Hope. I have to.”

“Wha—” 

The question deserted her as the tip of his tongue licked gently at her clit and Holy Lord, the taste of her. Ciaran would never get enough. She was sweet, rich, and blazingly hot. He welcomed the scratches of her nails, as she grabbed his shoulders. As he sucked and pulled her into his mouth, it was like he was drinking molten gold.  

“I should…”

Hope was trying to speak, but Ciaran was enjoying himself far too much. He flicked his tongue across that magic place and began to drag his hand up toward his mouth. With one long lick across her, Ciaran let his fingers join the fun. Her core was weeping and so ready for the orgasm lingering just around the corner. She was tight around his fingers and blissfully warm.  

As Ciaran pushed in and out of her, Hope bucked off the floor. She clawed at his shoulders and grabbed his hair. Hope was so close, so ready to release all that built-up tension.  Ciaran was beside himself, the joy of making her orgasm lit him up from the inside. When she cried out his name, he nearly lost it. But Ciaran had to be inside her when he came.  

The surge of her muscles around his hand was incredible. Ciaran watched awestruck as he pushed her over the edge and made her come over and over. When he finally released her, she was drenched and gasping. The erotic taste of her slid down his throat and stirred his hunger. In all of two seconds, his pants and boxers were off and left under the counter. In the brief moment Ciaran wasn’t closed in around Hope, she sat up.

“Ciaran, holy fuck… I really should… tell you…” Hope was trying to speak between breaths, and he pulled her close.

“What? What is it?” He kissed her neck as he spoke.

“I’ve, oh god, I’ve never… I’ve never done this.”

“Neither have I. I promise I do’na make a habit of takin’ girls back to me place.” Ciaran continued kissing and nibbling at the side of Hope’s neck and let his hand run down her body to her breast. He gently pinched her nipple ring and breathed her in.

“Ugh. I… No, Ciaran that’s not what I mean. I’ve never, well, I’ve never, umm, had sex.” Hope stilled in his arms. 

Ciaran shook his head. He must have heard wrong. How could someone as utterly sexual and stunning as Hope have never done this? But she was still frozen in his arms, and when he looked at her face she was staring at the ground.

“What? Oh, me god, I’m so sorry, I did’na—” 

“No, don’t be sorry. I still want to. I really, really do. I just wanted you to know. And I guess, I wanted to… know what this was going to be like,” She stared up at him, her fierce eyes showing a hint of embarrassment, “Never really had a sex talk.”

Ciaran was speechless. What the hell was the right thing to say? God, should he even be doing this? But at the thought of someone else, some other man, being the one to do this with her made him think seriously of finding said man and driving his head through a wall.

“Hope, we do’na have to do this. I can’na lie to ye, I really wanna. Sittin’ here next to ye, so verra naked and not devourin' ye, is takin’ some serious strength of will. But, ye have to wanna.”

Hope’s eyes seemed to search his, like she was looking for something to make her decision, and Ciaran tried to show everything his words couldn’t. Unfortunately, his thoughts started to swirl in his head again, and he was trapped in a game of chicken with the past. Ciaran could almost feel himself fracture down the middle.

Half of him wanted Hope so bad he’d be willing to chop off his leg to get close to her, but another half wanted to shake with all the cool of a fucking “fraidy cat” child in the dark. It was panicked someone was close enough to see all of him and take what they wanted.

But Hope wasn’t taking. She looked at him and gave him control over the situation. This could be good. I’m in control. I can stop or go, whenever I want.    

“I want this.”  Hope leaned in offering herself to him. 

Ciaran pulled her close, and he felt the hard tips of her breasts touch his bare chest and every bit of him began to relax, the screaming desire moving back to its rightful place at the front of his mind. This beautiful demon was the single sexiest woman on the planet, in the whole fucking universe, and she wanted him.  

“Alright, then. I do feel I should tell ye, it can hurt at first, for women, if we go too fast. I’ll be slow.” 

“Okay. Now, please, Ciaran,” Hope’s voice burned, and he almost wanted to ask her to just say his name over and over.  

But the moment she touched him again, his skin was on fire. With surprising strength, she pulled him down to her mouth and on top of her. Her knees fell easily to the side, and she attacked his neck with kisses and nibbles. Ciaran was hard enough to cut a diamond.  

But, he couldn’t be aggressive. Ciaran focused on the feel of her lips. As he looked down at Hope, the tension inside reached epic proportions, again. Her wavy hair with its white streak was tousled and wild. Her lips were swollen and red, her pale flesh bathed in a euphoric glow.  He slid a hand down to the hot, wet center waiting for him. She was drenched in magnificent, sugared honey.

Hope moaned, and Ciaran worked his fingers. Hope was panting again and pressed herself against Ciaran’s hard working hand. She groaned and cursed, pulling at his arm close to her face. She turned and bit into his forearm and the release poised at her core finally burst out. He was straining against the unbelievable desire to slam into her, but as she pulled him closer, the tip of his erection slid teasingly across her.  

Ciaran shuddered at the heat between Hope’s legs, and he gave in. He gripped Hope’s hip with one hand, as she continued to bite his other arm and slowly began to sheathe himself. Hope was tight around him, and the delicious wetness created an incredible friction.  

He felt her grip tighten around his forearm, “Are ye okay?”

“Yes. Don’t stop.” Hope grumbled the words around biting her lip.

Ciaran continued to move back and forth inside her. She squeezed around him. Hope let out a shattering cry and ripped into Ciaran’s skin with her nails. The sensation was tremendous, an elixir of pleasure and slight pain. Hope stared up at him, and as their eyes met. Ciaran found his favorite look in the world. She was completely blissed out.  

 Her long, graceful legs fell further open, and she took every thrust of him. Ciaran squeezed her hip tight, anchoring himself, as he pushed deeper and deeper. Hope arched back, as orgasm after orgasm rocketed through her. Each one made the fierce muscles inside her clench his shaft and brought him closer to his own release. Every inch of Ciaran’s body was burning. The magnificent, crushing pressure poised in his erection transformed him, the weights beneath it pulling up tight and exciting the animal in him. 

The roar that rumbled out of his chest was unadulterated, primal lust. A demand to possess Hope and give her everything he had to offer in return. Hope screamed out through smiles. Her voice covered Ciaran in another sweet layer of desire, the ecstasy bursting from her called for more and more of him, and he would give it to her.

Ciaran grabbed Hope’s hips with both hands and flipped her to her stomach. The floor pressed her luscious breasts up to her chin and she lifted her hips up to greet him. The softest skin of her body was luminescent, as the wet flesh was kissed by the fading light. It was beautiful, and Ciaran dove into her with passionate force. The rhythm they created was a divine dance of possession and submission, giving and taking. He reached a hand to her throat and pulled her tighter against him. Hope’s hand covered his, her nails digging into his fingers, but she was pressing it harder to the tender skin of her neck, gasping and sighing, as she opened herself up for still more.  

She was his. She had given her body over, and the act was enough to make the fearsome tension inside of him finally boil over. The orgasm that had been out of reach his entire life split him open and burst with such force Ciaran was completely breathless. Hope’s core embraced the release and squeezed down all around him, coming right along with him. Ciaran couldn’t stop. Every thrust pulling out more, until her perfect body had milked every last drop.  

The final growl of pleasure from Ciaran harmonized with Hope’s and echoed in the quiet house. Both of their arms gave out, as the sweet feeling of completion took over. Ciaran let his body fall to the floor beside her and pulled Hope to his chest. The skin of her back was moist against him, and he could feel her heart pounding. She was quiet aside from her hard breaths rushing in and out.

“Are ye alright?” Ciaran whispered into her hair. 

Hope’s eyes were closed. Her cheeks rosy. She was so beautiful and sort of fragile, he had never noticed before, she probably hadn’t let him, but now with her cradled against him, she was small. Marcus could never get his hands on her.

She stirred beside him and rolled onto her back. When she looked up into his eyes and smiled, Ciaran nearly melted, 

“I’m great. I’m kinda sore, but great.” 

She wasn’t lying, she was great. But reality rushed back in. There was so much still to talk about. For now, Ciaran rolled onto his back and pulled her into the crook of his arm. Hope fit perfectly, and as she closed her eyes, Ciaran let himself drift off to the best sleep he’d had in ages.

If you want to see Red’s experience, check out the beta copy of Burn the Bone here.

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 52

Title & Song: Pale Blue Eyes

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count:  6300+

Summary: Genevieve makes moves to better her image. She and Alfie see each other for the first time since he left. She finds herself alone in the cross hairs of a dangerous man.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Angst. Some fluff. 

**Chapter song is Pale Blue Eyes by The Kills. (The original song by Velvet Underground is one of my all time favs.)*

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist. (Includes Parts 1-51)

You're in your office, sitting cross-legged in your big leather chair, the flowers of suitors covering every previously empty surface of the room, all their letters piled into a box on the coffee table, all except for Alfie's. "More letters and messages," Claire says, throwing all but one envelope into the box, putting a stack of messages in her handwriting on the end of your desk, and tapping the last envelope in her hand. "One more from your father." she raises an eyebrow with a smirk.

"Let's see what the stupid bastard wants to try to do now. Perhaps chuck me out of my own house this time?" you scoff and rolls your eyes, the letter opener ripping the paper and thumping as you toss it back on the desk. You clear your throat as you unfold the parchment. "Genevieve, I have seen your work in the Jewish community of London and calling yourself as such. I am gravely disappointed in your decision of that area of study." you let out an awkward laugh "He's upset I'm doing charity work. How rich." you smirk, "Unlike him." you snark. "It has been your mothers wish to see you in heaven after she dies and knowing now that she will not has brought her great distress." you move your eyes to Claire. "Oh fucking please." you groan. "I only ever wanted the best for you, a husband and children to make you a proper lady and wife and mother. I see now you have become the opposite and are happy to destroy yourself and us in the process. No daughter of mine would be childless and unmarried by your age." you look back up at Claire as you rub your temple. "I see mother has gotten him to soften but he's decided to attack something else now. Because all I am is a baby maker. Clearly." your eyes widen before you sigh and return them to the paper. "If you decide to see sense and choose this path for yourself, we may discuss you being associated with us again, as it is what a woman should want for herself and her family. It is a shame to know I have raised such a selfish daughter who would deprive her mother and father of the grandchildren and son in law they deserve after working so hard to raise her well." you set the paper down on the desk. "Is he too daft to realize the children would be Jewish as well if I had them? Daft prick." you huff out a laugh.

"What a crock of shite." Claire says, taking the letter into her hands. "No threats though, which is a nice for a change." she shrugs.

"Let's write one back this time shall we?" you say cheerfully, a pen already in your hand and raised in preparation.

"Oh yes, most certainly." Claire says, sitting down in the chair in front of your desk.

"George. You cut me off from my family. I wish that would include you as well. You can't try to control me and banish me, it doesn't work that way. I also find your aversion to my charity work highly curious as you say you follow Jesus Christ's teachings, but I do not find it surprising as the only thing you've ever given anyone is hell. You will leave my mother out of this as you have never and will never speak for her. I loathe the fact that you try to use her against me and lie about her wants, but this as well, does not surprise me in the least as all you are is a self-serving, manipulative snake who isn't worthy of anyone's time. You are the selfish one who did absolutely no raising of me. All you were was a sperm donor and your involvement in my life began and ended with that. You have plenty of other grandchildren and in-laws to try to force your evil opinions onto. I will identify as and do as I please now. My decisions have nothing to do with you any longer, as I don't find you a subject valuable enough to waste my time on to think about. I have better things to do, as you've seen I'm a very busy woman. What I choose to do with my time and body are absolutely no concern to you. I'm living my life for myself, by myself and I urge you to do the same. You will not contact me or anyone I associate with further as my decisions are final. And I ask you to keep my name out of your mouth as I keep yours out of my existence entirely. Your daughter, Genevieve Channah Lafitte." you smile smugly at the paper, setting the pen down dramatically.

"You do speak well in anger." Claire nods. "The name is a beautiful touch."

"Altar would be proud, yeah?" you smile and blow on the paper to dry the ink.

"Using the Lafitte family name and your middle name as a stab at him yes. Only second to an actual blade." she nods.

"Perhaps one day I can make that happen. Not today but," you let out a happy sigh, "One day he'll get what's coming to him. Revenge is a game of patience." you fold the paper, place it in an envelope and hand it back to Claire. "Send this out with the next post, please." you smile at her sweetly.

"Yes ma'am." she says with a chuckle. ----- He's in his town car, being driven to an afternoon board meeting for a Jewish charity he was apart of. Ollie is shuffling through papers, giving him the right ones for what he needed to know for the meeting, he has on his little gold glasses, as always sliding down his wrinkled nose while it twitched as he read.

"There's the general agenda, a vote on allocation of assets and the voting on a new board member."

"Mmmph." he says with a grunt, looking over the bulleted list for last meetings minutes. "Feels like the vote came early this year." he says with a  furrowed brow.

"It's a bit early yes, but... someone actually applied instead of having a private vote to bring someone in like it's been done before."

"Someone actually applied?" he looks to Ollie whose eyes are a bit larger than usual. "Odd, that." he says, sorting through papers to find the application. "Usually just an associate is brought on without all this fuss." he grunts as he gets out the car, papers under his arm, large coat, shawl, and hat all large and menacing when accompanied by the unapproachable expression his face sat in for weeks now.

"Yes, I suppose since it's a woman they wanted to go through the proper channels instead of trying to grease palms for it." he makes an excuse, chewing the inside of his cheek as he walks with Alfie to the long table in the large echoing conference room.

"A woman eh?" he says with an amused huff. "Another would be a good addition. Hopefully, a younger one as Mrs. Cohen is getting terribly old." he says under his breath.

"Well she is." his voice cracks but Alfie doesn't notice as he takes his seat, nodding and giving a brief greeting to the other board members that were still filing in. "Applications here, sir." he says cautiously, handing Alfie the copy.

He clears his throat, removing his coat, just a pressed white button-up, and his vest over it now, his Kippot worn under his hat still on as he takes off the wide-brimmed, intimidating accessory. Once his eyes fall across the lovely signed named, he closes his eyes. "You can't be serious." he whispers so only Ollie can hear him.

"I'm...afraid so sir." he says quietly.

Alfie groans, his hand going to his forehead. "And you didn't think this was important to tell me about earlier than right fucking now?" he hisses, eyes harsh and glaring at the younger man.

"I didn't look at the papers until last night and you've been in meetings all day." he says as an excuse. Alfie lets out a small growl, lips moving to under his mustache in annoyance, eyes still narrowed as they return to the paper in front of him.

"Alright. Go on. Sit in the back, now." he says dismissively, a hand motioning him away. He was not prepared for this. --- "I'm so fucking nervous Claire. I'm never nervous." you whine as you sit in the car, pulled up to the old, remodeled building.

"It's fine. You're fine. You'll be wonderful. They'll love you." she says patting your knee.

"It's not getting on the board I'm worried about." you turn to face her. "You know that." your face serious.

She sighs heavily. "I know." she nods. "Come on, you don't want to be late."

You both get out of the car, you straighten your dress and have Claire look you over before you go in.

"Okay?" you ask with an uncomfortable smile.

"You look gorgeous, of course. You'll knock them and him dead."

You give her an amused expression that borderlined on a frown. "I haven't seen him in so long." you whisper as you walk into the building, your heels clacking on the floor, your dress swishing about your ankles. "I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest." you groan.

"He won't make a scene and neither will you. It's fine." she squeezes your hand supportively before you open the door to the large room.

You walk in before Claire, your chin high, face as lovely and pleasant as it ever has been. You move like you own the space, taking a seat in the front line of the rows of chairs in front of the long wooden table the board sat at, facing the group of people gathering.

You don't look at him, you can't just yet. You look at the papers in your hands, putting the glasses you'd bought that so closely resembled his on as you look over the application you'd sent in again.

"He's not taken his eyes off you since you walked in." Clair whispers, a hand over her mouth to cover the words, he could probably read lips the clever bastard.

"Good." you say with the first genuine smile she's seen in weeks from you.

"What's the expression?" you inquire.

"Trying to not look obvious but I see his Adam's apple bobbing. He might have even know you were coming from the amount of white in his eyes I can see." she almost giggles you give her a little smirk back. You see Claire give him a nod of acknowledgment as you look over the papers.

He tries to look away. He tries and fails many times over. He puts the papers that were in his hands down on the table so his nerves wouldn't show. You looked even more beautiful than he remembered somehow. You take off your long black coat first, your form as perfect as he recalled. You tug the gloves off your hands, he sees your pearl-like teeth pull them off, set in the middle of soft pink lips. Your makeup wasn't heavy, your hair was curled and down, you looked an absolute vision to him. Your dress was long and navy, fit snugly at your waist, with beaded embellishments across the bust, sheer panels made up the upper chest that went to your collar bones and long sleeves the flounced about your wrists. It was modest but stunning on you, but you could've worn flour sacks in and he would've thought you were pristine.

The head of the board Mr. Klein addresses you after the meeting comes to order. You rise and walk stoically to the podium that sat in the middle of the rows of chairs, Alfie sat to your left at the far end of the line of men and one very old woman.

"Miss Genevieve Durand." he lilts, already showing favor with you as you turn your charm up and give him a very polite and sweet smile.

"Yes, sir Mr. Klein." you give him a nod that's close to a bow with the greeting.

He knew even without the impressive list of accomplishments you'd added since he left that you could get on the board with charm alone. But had almost forgotten the hypnotizing endearing nature of you that you could make ooze out of every pore when you wanted it to. He tries to focus on the words you say and the ones asked of you but his ears seem to be ringing. His stomach aches, his palms sweat like a schoolboy over you as he watches you laugh and raise your hand to your chest as you do so, that slight crinkle of your perfectly sloped nose let him know you were being purposeful in your charm this evening.

"We have your rather impressive application here," he says before he clears his throat. "But I would love to hear from the woman herself about why you think you would be good for the board as I have not had the pleasure of meeting you before." his eyes are kind, you don't get a bad vibe from this guy and you feel more at ease as he and the rest of the board look at you. "Since you went through the proper channels of applying, might I assume you aren't familiar with anyone on the board personally?" he asks innocently.

You bury the lump in your throat at the question. "I have seen Mrs. Cohen and Mr. Abrahams at Temple... and I know Mr. Solomons." with his name falling from your lips, for the first time since you'd called him in your home before he left, you move your eyes to meet his. You give him a close-lipped smile that you hope makes him swell with regret. You hold the eye contact but for a few seconds, but those few seconds spent staring into those blue eyes of his, merely a meter away sends something deep in your chest ablaze.

"Oh, wonderful! You aren't a stranger to us then. How do you know Miss Durand, Mr. Sololmons?" he turns his head to Alfie and you look down at the podium and hold back a smirk, awaiting the sound of his voice.

"We've been in business together for quite some time now. Although we're old friends at this point, I dare say." You're pleased with the answer, and how good it sounds coming out of his plush lipped mouth. Still as low and gritty as it ever was, it rubs up against your skin and gives you goosebumps.

"So tell us about this business then. I'd love to hear all about you, Miss Durand."

"I'd love to tell you," you say with a wide smile. "I own the Abeille Company of London. I'm currently the number one producer and seller of honey in the city. I also grow and sell berries from my country estate just outside of London."

"Very successful indeed," he says, his tone impressed. "And what work have you been doing in the community, Miss Durand? What makes you a good fit for us?" he asks politely, it felt like a formality but you were here to sell.

"The first thing I suppose would be that I'm Jewish." you joke with a charming smile and chuckle that the board members all follow. Alfie doesn't laugh but you can feel his smile beaming at you. You hoped he was proud. And he was so proud. You standing and declaring it, wearing the amulet he'd given you, the picture of success and beauty. Seeing you again was breaking down his want to hate himself, that principle he'd set for himself starting to seem less important now in your presence. "I've been very active in the community of London as a late. I've always supported local business, and oversee a few Family ran businesses myself. In my own home and business, almost the entirety of my staff is Jewish. The maids in my home are all young Jewish girls, all of which I've come across while down on their luck, bless them. I take them in and give them a place to live, a job and guidance as they need."

"That's very kind work you're doing." Mrs. Cohen interjects.

"Thank you, ma'am. I was once a young girl out on her own and through the help of others, I helped make a name for myself. I find it fitting to return the favor." you say with a smile and a nod. "With my charity work, for this particular foundation, I've given a donation of four hundred pounds to support your cause."

Alfie can't help but have a slightly dopey smirk on his face as he loved seeing you throw your money around as a woman. It backed up the power your strong posture and educated words brought.

"And what lead you to donate such a generous amount to us?" Mr. Abrahams asks.

"I love animals and I find it important to help those less fortunate. With your association doing both and helping those with a physical disability at that, I was drawn to it and felt compelled to support its endeavors," you answer concisely. "Although it was Mr. Klein who said it, Mr. Solomons was the first to bring it to my attention of going without sight for a set aside period of time a day, and having done that I would like to say that it is certainly a most effective means of communicating the importance of helping those without sight that exist in world made for those with sight." a few hums of appreciate and thoughtfulness from the group. You see Alfie's fingers messing about in his beard at the mentioned of him, helping hide the impressed look on his face. "Outside of my work with this organization, I also donate money and time to other Jewish causes in the city. My support has helped form a scholarship for Jewish children wishing to seek an education in the arts. I myself teach courses at that institution to bring my own love of art to them as I find it has helped my life tremendously."

"And you recently were awarded an honor for you work weren't you?" one of the men you don't know asks.

"Yes sir I was." you nod. "Although the award had no relation to the Jewish community, it was an honor to be nominated and to win such a thing for something that I hold so dear to my heart."

So dear to her heart, he thinks, a picture of him being what won, he can't help but be hopeful you were trying to send him subconscious messages. You never toyed with your words, after all.

"I also sponsor one day of meals per month to the Jewish children's home, where I help prepare and serve the meals as well."

Alfie tried not to fully swoon. You had been a busy little bee without him. Making even more of a name for yourself in different ways. Making a facade of purity and piousness to mask the dirty work you did. It was brilliant and not far from what he himself did.

"You have been studying with Rabbi Gold to have your bat mitzvah, is this correct?"

"Correct, sir." you say proudly.

"Is there a reason you didn't go through with the ritual when you came of age?"

"The opportunity was not allowed to me at the time and I am making amends to the neglect of my faith and heritage that has been outside of my control by educating myself fully before going through with it now."

"And what have you been learning?" he asks with a casual inquisitiveness.

"I have been focusing as of late on the mitzvah of chesed and that has brought me to the aforementioned accomplishments of mine. I have also focused on my own time, outside of my time with Rabbi Gold, to learn more Kosher cooking. But I must admit it never feels like study because I just truly enjoy it." you give a light-hearted chuckle that spreads to the pleasant smiles of the board.

"Might we try some of this cooking?" he jokes with a laugh.

"Oh, but of course sir." you give a feminine giggle at his casual behavior. The smile and laugh working together make a dopey smile appear across Alfie's face that he doesn't remember to hide. Hearing you speak of all this with such certainty was stirring something deep, deep within him.

"Is there a particular portion you have enjoying learning about?"

"Yes, from chayei sarah. Actions speaking louder than words." you state matter of factly. Alfie feels the bite in them that must be directed at him. Actions? He wonders. Would getting up with this table and kissing you in front of God and everyone else be action enough? "Being proactive and useful. To actively seek out opportunities for kindness and not only doing them when they are bluntly presented to us as Rebecca did."

"And may we ask if such actions have brought you to be as worthy of a man of the same actions as you? We have no unmarried women on the board, afterall." your face flushes scarlet at the question.

"No it has not, sir." you look down at your hands, the portrait of a blushing bride, full of innocence and naivety. "Perhaps it is in the cards for me..." you shrug. "Not my decision to make is it?" you give a bashful smile. "I must take the lesson of God judging my sincerity and not my success with such things. Although with deception not being my strong suit one has to wonder why." you joke, with a sheepish smile. A laugh travels across the line of people, including Alfie. He was as impressed as ever with you. The words you could spin, the emotions you could pull out of people was just fantastically mesmerizing. This coy and shy but confident woman who he'd seen kill men twice her size, bathed in blood, fucked out of her mind and spilling sinful, lustful words from her panting, trembling lips was the same woman standing before him. Such a dual nature as he'd never known a woman to have before.

"Let us discuss the acceptance or denial of Miss Durand for board membership." he says with a stern nod and a smile. They go one by one, approving you, comments of thanks for your donation and seeing as you were clearly a rising star, a future pillar in the community they would be happy to have you. Then it comes down to Alfie last who is wearing a smug but breathtakingly handsome smile on his face.

"I know Miss Durand. I'm familiar with her both professionally and personally and consider her a dear friend. I would beyond a doubt support the decision to bring her on. We would be smart to use a strong and clever woman like her. I have found her to be nothing but kind, thoughtful and fair even before she was studying and I have no doubt with her deeper understanding she will do nothing but flourish and be a valued member of the community as she has already proven to be by her generous donations of money and time to not only us but other charities. My vote is an unequivocal yes." your eyes meet while he speaks every word. Your smile growing with each compliment. You look away as he stares you down, the sweet words feeling dirty as his eyes were telling you other things he wished to say.

"Not that it needs saying but, welcome to board Miss Durand!" Mr. Klein announces. Light applause from the small crowd behind you that you'd forgotten about.

"Thank you so much." you say with another bright and disarming smile.

You're speaking with Mrs. Cohen afterward, discussing making challah and you feel a familiar warmth across your lower back.

"You mind if I steal her away for a moment?" he says with a devastating smile.

"Oh no dear." she says happily with a shake of her head and a smile as he moves slowly to join the others.

He moves you away from the crowd just slightly, a hand on your lower back that feels as if it might burn if he leaves it there too long. "I did not know you were applying to be on the board until I saw it on the agenda today," he says quietly, eyes scanning across the people behind you before moving down to meet yours. "Did you not remember that I was on the board?" he says with a half smile. "You wouldn't have even had to go through the with that inquisition if I'd known." he says obviously.

"Well, I...didn't want to bother you with it." your voice is softer and less certain with him than it had been earlier, he does not miss this fact.

"Bother me?" he scoffs. "I believe the last we spoke I said you could never be a bother, dear." his voice is less predatory and more caring now.

"And how long has it been since we last spoke?" your face is more solemn and the sharp stab of guilt is planted firmly in his gut. Your doe eyes full of honesty seek the same from him.

"Too long." he says, his lips pursing together.

"It has." you sigh and look away from him.

Claire appears. "It's almost time to leave for the ball, Gen." she says, leaning in close. He moves her head to face the tall man in front of you.

"Hello, Alfie." she states calmly, no emotion behind it.

"Good to see you again Claire." he says with a nod.

"Just a moment." you say and give her a look she understands.

"Which are you attending tonight?" he asks politely.

"One for the arts center I mentioned earlier."

"You back to going to them alone then, eh?" he says with the guilt obvious in his voice.

"No." you answer, your eyes calm again as they find his the opposite. His mouth opens slightly.

"No?" he asks with raised brows, his heart falling into his intestines.

"Niko asked to accompany me. I wasn't going to attend it as I didn't want to be late because of this." you state matter of factly. "But he offered." you shrug.

"Niko?" he says, his false front of civility falling. "The Greek's son?" he says in an offended way.

"Yes. That Niko."

"The son of the man who tried to fuckin' kill me?" his face twists into anger and hurt.

"He had nothing to do with that. He didn't know about it and he didn't agree with it being done." you say defensively.

"And you believe him?" he says, chin jutting forward, eyes looking around to make sure he wasn't causing a scene.

"Yes. He's not lied to me yet," you say with a small frown. "I don't know why you're so upset, you and I attended charity ball's together long ago if you recall." your tone is harsher, your eyes hard but sparkling with sadness.

"Yeah." he gruffs out, not looking away from your eyes. "We did." he pauses for a moment, fingers moving to his beard. "But that was different." he says with a deep inflection, brow furrowing.

"Was it?" you say, the hurt now clear, your shoulders dropping. "I wouldn't know would I?" you say with a bite that he deserved. He'd never told you how he felt, you'd both just knew somehow didn't you?

He sighs, his eyes mirroring that sadness. "Genevieve I-" he begins and you cut him off.

"Save it," you say, your chest sighing and your voice exasperated. "I know you have words. And none for me as of late." you swallow hard, near tears. "I'm no longer interested in just words and poor excuses." you shake your head and give a small huff of exhaustion to his behavior. "Only actions." you almost whisper. "I'll see you at the next meeting." you say, jaw clenched and turning away before you started crying.

You had no intentions of being with Niko in any way. You'd made it clear to him this wasn't a date. You knew he liked you, but you thought to go to a ball with a man instead of going alone would be nice after having to deal with wannabe suitors and nosy women at all the ones you'd been to recently. You knew you'd be distracted at best the rest of the night after seeing Alfie anyway. You hadn't come in with any expectations so you weren't shattered in the events that followed, but with his display of jealousy, you had to separate yourself. You weren't his, he had no reason to be jealous and use that tone with you. And to imply you were being duped...well that was just insulting.

He knew he deserved worse. He'd left and not called. He'd never given you a reason for not sleeping with you any longer, he gave no apologies or excuses just now when he had the opportunity. He stands there and shoves his hands into his pockets, face to the ground as he grumbles to no one, bottom lip hanging in his exhaustion with himself. Why couldn't he just fucking do and say what he meant when it came to you. The emotions you roused in him were uncontrollable at times and he felt ashamed at how he reacted in anger. He could charm the pants off anyone in fucking London and there he stood before you, a tongue-tied little boy looking up at a goddess he could barely fathom. The emotions that surged through him when you were near or even the mere thought of you now was something he didn't fully understand the power of. Perhaps he should stop getting in the way of his own chance at happiness. --- All you thought about was Alfie that night. You spoke in anger, and not that he didn't deserve it but you didn't want him to have more reasons not to contact you. As your nerves eased, your mind clearing, you missed him. You still missed him despite all the things you'd done to distract yourself. Seeing him made your heart thump like you were a school girl with a crush. He still exuded his power, that charming smile and handsome face, his confident body as he moved with masculine motions. He had smelled surprisingly good, he even looked better than you'd thought. He'd been eating well enough, beard still full and hair peeking out from under his hat as it curled at the ends, begging you to touch it. But you hadn't. You'd stayed strong. You could beg, but you wouldn't. If you had to beg for his attention you didn't want it.

A lot of good had come out of him leaving, of leaving your heart sitting in your outstretched hand and him walking away. He'd sent the flowers, but that was all. No calls or visits. He didn't stop by, didn't invite you to tea, nothing. You hadn't done these things either to be fair but... he was the one who left. He was the one that had pulled away and you weren't going to beg for any man's attention. You hoped learning about Niko, hearing the hurt and anger, seeing it in your face as you boldly looked into his eyes would prompt him to action. You hoped. But you weren't going to hold your breath. ------ You're in a grand banquet hall, giving fake smiles and polite conversation as Niko has left you alone and the wolves were ascending. Alfie wouldn't ever leave you alone at one of these things. Especially not when the man approaching you was there. Cyrus Horne is stalking his way towards you, he was a physically intimidating man, taller than Aflie, with eyes that made you feel nauseous as they raked up and down your body as he approached. He still gave you that vibration of warning and danger in your gut, same as he had when you'd first seen him at the ball with Alfie.

"Always a treat to lay eyes on you Genevieve." your skin crawls.

"Horne." you say flatly with a nod of acknowledgment.

"What are you doing here? You're not Jewish." he says with a smirk.

"I am Jewish actually." you state obviously.

"Since when?" he says incredulously.

"Since I was born." you say with attitude, rolling your eyes up to him, lips pursed in clear annoyance.

"Ah, I see. I thought you might've gone and converted for Solomons." you scoff loudly.

"Don't insult me. I'd never do such a thing for a man." your voice and face full of offense taken.

"Not a desperate attempted to get him back?" you glare at him, your mouth open in disgust.

"You can't get something back you never had, Horne." you shake your head.

"Oh, how poetic of you. Realizing he's a monster just like me?" he shoots you a smile and a wink.

"What you two think you are is no concern of mine." you look away and shake your head and sigh, looking out into the crowd.

"You two were living together though." he says as if it was a huge secret.

"Yeah there was a reason for that." you roll your eyes.

"And it wasn't because he was losing the war in London and decided to latch onto a rising star?" he tries to lean forward and you move away disgusted.

"If you might recall..." you begin with attitude. "And I suppose you try to kill so many people you forget, that you blew up his fucking house." you stand your ground to his intimidation tactics.

"Ah so the man figured it out." he laughs. "He comes running to a bleeding heart like you to clean up after him?" he juts his chin down at you, using a condescending tone.

"I told him he could stay with me while his house was rebuilt. He cleans up his own messes." your tone is indifferent.

"What a sweet, sweet girl." he hisses in a predatory way. "Thought you might've been caught up in those fancy words he likes to use to lure in women." his voice dips and he keeps intruding on your personal space.

"I've never been much for pretty words. They don't mean shit." you meet his eyes fearlessly, the bite clear in your voice.

"Cleverness inside such an appealing vessel." he hums in a sleazy way.

"Did you not hear what I just fucking said?" you move away from his touch.

"And feisty...I like it when they have a bit of bite." he whispers.

"I don't give a fuck what you like Horne. Can you just fuck off?" your brows raised, one hand dismissing him.

"Excuse you? You want to change that tone?" he speaks slowly.

"No I fucking don't." you say louder.

"No wonder you two paired off....both too wiley for your own good." he groans.

"There was no pairing off. We worked together. I don't understand why you care about Solomons and me in the first place." you say with a condescending lilt.

"Because I've wanted to keep an eye on you ever since the night he was stupid enough to introduce you to me." he gives you an unsettling, wolfish smile.

"Oh, so it's some conquering what "his" thing then? How original." you scoff and roll your eyes.

"Well if he's fool enough to not use you to his advantage than I will." he says in a voice that indicates he thinks he's being smooth.

"Wow. So pompous! I'm not interested in even being looked at by a man like you Horne. Let alone be 'used'. Take your garish and outdated attempts at sexist compliments and try it on someone else. I'm not interested." you cross your arms and post up against him with a bold gaze.

"A bloodthirsty bitch like yourself could use a man like me you know." his brow furrows as he doesn't back down.

"Funny you think I need a man for any reason. Useless...the lot of you." you scoff.

"I've got more to offer than Solomons. And if you'll help a beast like him why won't you help a beast like me?" he plays as if he's hurt.

"Because he has manners." you state plainly and he laughs loudly.

"Is that what it is? You like to "courted"?" he snorts out another laugh.

"No. I don't. I wish all men would leave me the fuck alone. I don't prefer to be talked to like I'm something to be had. Because I'm not."

"But all women are to be had, darling. It's how you were made. To take from men." he leans in again, the uncomfortable and aggressive look and tone making you want to gag.

"Do you hear yourself? Are you capable of self-reflection and hearing? Because you're acting as if you're not. I'm not interested in having anything to do with you, Horne. I wasn't the night we were introduced, I'm not now and I never will be." you hold your ground against his perverted glare.

"We'll see about that."

"No we won't." you spit out.

"I always get what I want Genevieve." he coos.

"No one gets what they want all the time and the man who thinks he does is a fool." you glare. "And I'm not interested in fools."

"You're too brazen for your own good, woman." he says leaning away from you.

"And saying things like that is surely the way to make me want to have anything to do with you." you stare him down in defiance.

"Who said I needed you to want it?" he quirks an eyebrow down in your direction.

"This grotesque attempt at a conversation is over." you say loudly and clearly, snarling at him slightly.

"But it won't be the last you see of me darling." he lilts out as you stomp away.

Pt. 53 The Rat

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester@lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r@iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69@thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle@negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this@shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted@vale0413 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @sxlomons @aphnxrising @emerald-bijou @elaenom 

[from-the-clouds]

Somewhere Only We Know - A Collins/Reader Series - Chapter 6

Chapter 5 * Playlist * Masterlist

Summary: While on leave from the war, Collins meets an aspiring musician stuck working as a waitress at one of his favorite bars. 

Word Count: 2,670

Warnings: None.

A/N: I’ve been pumped to write this chapter forever. Also there’s an extra fluffy chapter 7 that will follow!

Y/N exited her apartment and trudged down the three steps to the sidewalk below. Glancing up at the sky, she noticed dark clouds rolling in, lingering overhead like a cat ready to pounce. She pulled her jacket closer around her against the chill of the late October air that was heavy with humidity.

She’d spent the entire afternoon at one of her mother’s friend’s home, eating lunch, drinking tea and listening to her mother gossip. It was mind-numbing and exhausting, since her mother spent the entire time correcting her, and she was expected to sit quietly without squirming in her seat while she listened to stories about her grown up childhood friends.

The only thing she had on her mind was the night ahead of her. Jack had invited her over to his home to have dinner, and she was looking forward to spending the evening with him.

“So, what are you doing tonight?” her mother asked after they’d gotten home from lunch. Y/N had figured it’d be rude not to talk to her mother for a little bit after returning. They hadn’t spoken much since she had introduced her to Collins. Y/N stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching her mother busy herself with cleaning dishes and making tea.

Y/N shrugged. “I’m not sure.” She wasn’t going to tell her mother about her plans.

“How’s your friend I met last weekend.” Her mother asked, pausing at looking at her daughter’s reaction. “Jack, was it?”

“You know his name.” Y/N quipped, knowing she was just playing games. Her mother gave her a stern look. Nervously, she fidgeted under her mother’s gaze, playing with the frilly sleeves on the modest dress she’d worn for the afternoon. “Good.”

“I’m not ignorant, Y/N.” her mother spoke. “I saw the way he looks at you.”

Y/N felt her face redden slightly, not sure how to respond to what had just been said. She knew she shouldn’t have lied to begin with. However, she knew being upfront with her mother about Collins would unleash a whole different firestorm. And truthfully, she never thought she and Collins would become as serious as they were.

Her mother surprised her, by continued. “He’s a nice man, Y/N. Polite, friendly. Handsome.”

Y/N nodded in agreement. “He is.”

“Well, I suggest you tell him about your engagement.” her mother suggested, turning back to wipe down the counter. “I’m sure he’s curious as to why you aren’t married yet, and he better hear it from you first before it makes it’s way back to him. Men don’t like baggage and I’d hate to see you get hurt again if you wait until the two of you become more serious.”

The feigned concern for their relationship made the anger rise in Y/N’s chest. “Yes, mother.”

Y/N left quickly after that, and retreated into her apartment, slamming the door shut behind her and breaking down into tears. It made no sense that it had to be this way. She’d made a mistake and she’d agreed to marry a man she’d known since high school, a man she thought she knew and loved. But it’d haunted her ever since in the gossip followed her around town.

By the time she calmed down and stopped crying, her eyes were red and swollen, and she held an icepack over them to soothe the irritation. She looked a mess, and contemplated calling off the date. But she knew if she did she would feel guilty and spend all night wallowing.

Once she composed herself, she changed and headed to Collins house, which was about a 20 minute walk from where she lived, on the outskirts of town.

As Y/N walked to Collin’s home, she felt the anger rising in her chest. Maybe her mother was right. A messy, broken engagement a little over a year ago was a lot of baggage, and Collins was a simple man, he didn’t seem to want any trouble. She walked faster as the wind picked up, the clouds growing darker above her as she wrapped her coat tighter around herself.

He’d been so kind to her in the few months she’d known him. He was exactly what she wanted, and exactly what she needed, at least at this time in her life. Unfortunately, she didn’t deserve his kindness. Even her mother knew this. Although she always insisted she was only doing what was best for Y/N, but instead, her brutal honesty, coupled with everything else she’d experienced in the past few years only served to make her a very insecure woman. She willed herself not to cry, even stopping a few times along the way to take deep breaths and compose herself.

When the skies opened up and it began raining profusely, it became harder and harder to fight the tears. She should have turned around, as she was only about halfway to Collins’s home, but something inside her willed her forward. Now she felt there was a whole new purpose to her evening than just dinner.

The rain soaked through her coat, drenching her completely. The droplets ran from her hairline down her forehead, falling off the tip of her nose. She couldn’t believe her luck. Coupled with the cold weather, the downpour left her chilled to the bone, and when she finally arrived at Collin’s, she was dripping wet and shivering profusely.

His home was small but charming, a little wooden cabin overlooking the countryside. Dusk, coupled with the dark clouds overhead made it hard for her to make out any details.

As she raised her hand to knock on the door, it swung open before her knuckles made contact with the wood.

“Y/N,” Jack said, his jaw going slack.

“Hello,” She shivered violently, sneezing into the back of her hand as the chill finally got to her.

“Jesus, love, git inside. Ye’re goin’ to catch cold.” he stepped out of the way. “I thought for sure ye wouldn’t come all the way out ‘ere in the rain.”

“I didn’t-” Y/N sneezed again, stepping inside as he closed his door behind her. “I didn’t want to stand you up.” He helped her out of her coat, and she surveyed the interior of the home, realizing she was standing in a cozy living room with a loveseat and a fireplace. A fire already burned inside.

“I would’ve understood,” he said, rubbing her shoulders in a failed attempt to warm her up.

She inhaled, and it smelled like Jack, a combination of smoke and pine. Off the living room there was a small hallway where she guessed his bedroom and bathroom were. To the left of her was a small dining area with a kitchen off that.

“Jesus, ye must be freezin’. Let me get ye somethin’ tae change into,” he said. “Ye can let ye’re clothes dry by the fire. I’ll make ye some hot tea. Come on.”

Y/N took her shoes off first, not wanting to track mud or water on the hardwood floors. She followed him into the hallway, where he opened a linen closet and took out two fluffy towels.

“Bathroom’s in ‘ere, if ye’ need it.” he clicked on a light to a small tiled room with a bathtub, shower, and a sink. He ducked into the room across from it, his bedroom, which was painted a pale blue. His bed was made neatly, a quilted comforter on top, a glass of water on the bedside table. A window to the left of his bed was cracked slightly, the curtains billowing out as the wind drove rain into the room. The breeze sent a shiver down her spine.

“Shite,” Jack exclaimed, rushing to shut the window before too much water got in. “Forgot I left tha’ open,” he mumbled to himself before going over to the tall dresser across from his bed. After digging through the top drawer, he presented her with a pile of neatly folded plaid. “These may be a bit big,” he said with a wink. “But they’ll keep ye warm.”

Y/N smiled weakly, unable to look him in the eye. She knew if she spoke she’d break down into tears and she was only going to let him down this evening. “Help yerself tae anythin’ ye need,” he said. “I’ll be out in the kitchen.”

She nodded, shivering again. “Thank you.”

Collins backed out of his room, shutting the door behind her. She heard his footsteps retreat until she was alone with her thoughts. The towel he’d left for her on the bed sat on the bed and the pile of thick flannel in her hands felt suddenly heavy. He’d given her his pajamas. To herself, she smiled, feeling the back of her eyes prick with tears. She didn’t deserve this.

Y/N dried off as best as she could with the towel after removing her dress and her slip, feeling a little exposed being half-naked in man’s house, despite the fact she was in another room. Slipping his shirt over her head, she buttoned it up with stiff and cold fingers. Collins was tall enough that the shirt could have made a short dress, cutting just about to mid thigh, but she put on the pants anyways. Padding across the hall to his bathroom, she towel-dried her hair and found a comb to run through the tangled mess. She supposed that would have to do.

She slung her dress over her arm along with the towel, balling her slip up in her opposite hand and keeping it behind her back. It would be embarrassing to hang it over the fire, so she figured she could put it in her coat pocket before she greeted him.

It would be a bit of a challenger, though, as he was adding logs to the fire when she entered the living room. He turned around and smiled at the sight of her.

“How do they fit?” he asked, taking her dress and the damp towel out of her hands, hanging them by the fire.

“A little long,” she said, holding out her free arm and lifting her leg, the pants hanging a good few inches past her feet.

“Let me,” he came towards her and knelt in front of her. He rolled up the pants so they no longer dragged across the floor, standing to cuff the wrists of his sleep shirt. He reached for her other hand where the slip still remained balled up. She pulled away slightly until he grabbed her wrist with a smirk. “Ye hiding somethin’ from me?”

“Well,” she began, pulling away. “It’s my slip, I don’t want you seeing that.”

“Ah, so ah dinnae ken what ye wear under yer dress, then?” he asked sarcastically. The Scottish phrase made her chuckle.

“It’s just….probably not ladylike to leave it out to dry,” she explained.

“Ah don’ think it’s ladylike to wear men’s pajamas, either, but in case ye couldn’t tell ah don’t care,” he held out his hand.

“Fine,” she handed him the damp piece of thin, lacy fabric. He snickered before placing it alongside the rest of her clothes.

“Maybe ye can try it on for me later,” he chuckled and Y/N felt her face heat up at the thought, though something deeper inside her didn’t mind the image. “Better?” he asked, returning to stand in front of her.

She nodded, shivering. “Well, now I’m underdressed.” She gestured to his sweater and slacks.

Ignoring her concern, he pulled her against him and pressed a tender kiss to her lips, his hands trailing down to settle into her waistline. “Sit down,” he pulled away and gestured towards the couch. He pulled a blanket off the back of the chair near the fire and she obeyed, tucking her legs underneath her. He unfolded the blanket and tucked it around her, over her shoulders and under her feet. It was warm from the fire and Collins knelt in front of her.

“Dinner’s not quite ready yet, so you can warm up fo’ a bit.” He leaned against her, placing one arm across her lap, looking up at her with his big blue eyes. “Don’t want ye catching cold.” He rested his chin on her knee. “Ye need anything else?”

She shook her head, a thought passing through her mind. Why are you so good to me?

Jack looked taken aback.“What do ye mean?” To her horror, she realized she’d said out loud what she’d been thinking.

Backtracking, she tried to come up with a way to amend the situation. She picked at a loose thread in the blanket, feeling her cheeks grow hot in embarrassment as she avoided his eyes. “I just...I don’t understand...why me? You’re…..you’re just so nice to me. I don’t know why.”

“Why would ye ask me that?” Jack stood from his position and shifted so he was sitting next to her on the couch. Y/N shrugged, and he moved closer to her, one arm on the back of the couch, the other resting on her lap still. “Ye think ye don’t deserve it?”

She refused to look at him still, shrugging. Jack sighed, leaning closer.

“Maybe I should tell ye,” he began, pausing to find the right words. “When I met yer mum a few weeks ago, she told me something…” he trailed off again, looked at the fireplace, then back at her, gauging her reaction. “I don’ know everything ye’ve been through....” she finally gave in and let her eyes flicker towards him, not turning her head.

So her mother had told him, though now she wasn’t sure how much he knew. Jack sighed. “I want te live a normal life. I want te make ye happy.” His hand left her lap to trace along her jawline. “I’m not gonna hurt ye.”

She sighed, turning her head away from his touch. His face fell slightly as she rejected his contact, and it broke her heart, but she knew it was for the best. It was now or never. “Jack, I need to tell you something.”

He looked at her with anxious eyes, though she could still see a bit of the affection he so often looked upon her with. Despite her effort to pull away from his contact, his arms were still wrapped loosely around her and a lazy embrace, his face inches from hers as she turned her head, unable to look him in the eyes.

“I was engaged,” she told him. “Just a little over a year ago I broke it off. And it was a big mess and everyone in town gossiped about it for months. They haven’t let it go.”

Peeking over at him, Collins seemed surprised, his jaw dropping slightly and his brow furrowing as he took in this information. Judging by his reaction, her mother must have not given too much away, and she was thankful for it.

“I meant to tell you sooner, but it’s not easy to talk about….I’d really rather forget it ever happened.,” Y/N’s voice cracked, and she swallowed. “He wasn’t very good to me,” she managed to finish without any tears. “I know I should have told you sooner, and I’m sorry. You deserve to know.”

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting from him, but to her surprise, Collins leaned forward, placing his opposite hand on the arm of the couch. “Ye don’t have tae be sorry,” he cupped her cheek in his hand. “I don’ care about any of that. I care about right now.”

Moving from her comfortable position, she leaned into him and embraced him, wrapping both her arms around his broad shoulders, closing her eyes and burying her face into his neck. “Thank, you, Jack,” she murmured into his shoulder. The gesture took him off guard at first, until he returned the embrace. For now, Y/N felt a weight lift off her chest.

Part 7

[2-d-ents]

THE LAST LIVING SOULS: GORILLAZ ZOMBIE AU

This is the first part of my Gorillaz zombie apocalypse AU fan fic! I plan on writing each part in a different perspective, being on of the four members of the band despite this being written in third person. I know it’s a long read, but I hope you enjoy! I’m going to put most of it under a read more. 

PART 2 - 2D

PART DESCRIPTION: The zombie apocalypse has just begun, and Murdoc is driving aimlessly on his own before he encounters Uncle Norm’s Organ Emporium with Norm inside about to eat the face off of his poor employee. 

PART 1 - MURDOC

“When the whole world goes mad, the mad finally become the sane, eh?”

Murdoc used to speak to himself from time to time back then, but now that there wasn’t anyone to talk with, he found himself speaking more and more aloud into the empty car, feeling somewhat stranger now than he did when there was actually a definition for being insane or being normal. Back then there were actually people who could represent those traits. It was kind of crazy to him that he was referring to four days ago as “back then” already. In the past four days of scavenging for shelter, food, and weapons, the part of his brain that made him feel calm when he was alone was now screaming at him to find another living person, even if it was only to have a meaningless conversation.

He weaved around the road to pass all the cars that were abandoned where they lay. The old Vauxhall Astra wasn’t in the best shape after fighting off those hell-shakers, some of them smashing into the front lights of the car. But it ran just fine and was hitting 130 miles per hour without any issue. That was the only speed Murdoc cared to go. None of those creatures could hit this speed. If they tried to stop the car they would just get run over, and if he would have stopped he would have just rolled down the window and shot them dead again anyways.

He felt lucky that he was already this way, so easy to shoot somebody without feeling an overriding sense of guilt. He had watched a man from afar go into a great deal of mental pain while trying to shoot a stranger that was going to eat his fucking face off that Murdoc did it for him from 50 feet away. The man looked up to the sky as if God had granted him a favor and made the damn monsters head blow up. Jokes on that guy, considering the fact that a Satanist had just saved his life as well as the fact that if God was anything but merciless, he wouldn’t have bestowed this video game trend into the real world. God was probably laughing at all the assholes down below as they turned into cannibals.

He began to come out of his thoughts as he entered a small town, slowing down as to not hit anything with the car that already had enough damage as it was. There was debris blocking most parts of the road, and if not debris it was bodies slaughtered across the small roads. There was no point in trying to avoid the bodies as there was too many to even attempt it. Murdoc sighed as he drove over one every few minutes. If he went any faster, their blood would cover his windshield. Soon enough the bodies began to clear and he continued on with ease.

The town was completely silent. Murdoc rolled down his window for a listen. It was a surprise to find a town that wasn’t bustling with undead bodies. “This town really fought for it…” he muttered aloud, staring at the guns and baseball bats that were strewn along the sidewalks nearby bodies. Now that it came across his mind, he hadn’t killed one in quite some time due to him driving for the past two days. He needed sleep, and he needed it more than he had ever needed it before. On the other hand he knew it wasn’t safe enough to sleep yet, or else he would end up like the bodies he had just run over - forgotten in the middle of the street.

That’s when he heard it. It startled him, but you could never catch Murdoc off guard. His hand was on his gun immediately. That gurgling noise, the smacking of lips, teeth grinding together. Another brain-eater. He continued driving, rolling his window up just enough to continue to listen, not enough for one of them to stick their hands into his car. It got louder, and so did the shouting that went unheard before.

“Norm, it’s me! Stu! What the ‘ell are you doing with your mouth?” The heavy accented shout came from a shop just to the left ahead. “Knock it off! You’re well scarin’ me now!”

Murdoc wasn’t thinking too straight due to the fact that his sleeping hours were now coming in way overdue, yet he was at least thinking. He hit the gas hard, picking up speed as he approached the store. He held his breath as he took the sharp turn, tires screeching so loud that the head in the window turned just as Murdoc caught sight of him.

It felt as if everything was going in slow motion as his car came into contact with the front window. “‘Uncle Norm’s Organ Emporium’, huh? Suppose that must be Norm,” he thought to himself as he read the sign quickly. Norm was in his finest suit, or really what used to be his finest suit. It was torn up into bits, specks of blood on his torso and arms. His face was shriveled and old, but the new undead part of it made it even worse with the added scratches and bits of skin that were hanging off. His eyes were completely white, as if someone had forcibly held his eyes open and poured white-out into them. This was not Uncle Norm’s best day.

It probably wasn’t the best day for the man behind him either. The look on his face from both of the facts that his boss was trying to eat him and a car was coming right at him was so priceless that Murdoc felt himself laugh. His blue hair didn’t match the nice suit he was wearing at all - he didn’t look like he would ever belong in a suit. The backpack over his shoulder made more sense, torn up and covered in patches. He was far taller than Norm which was quite possibly the only way that Murdoc could even see him. The legs on this guy were astonishing, so much that he even felt some jealousy.  

Time began to speed up, and Norm let out an ear-shattering roar just as the car made his head fall right off his body. Even Murdoc let out a yell, wanting to hear his own voice to make sure he himself was still alive. The car smacked down onto the floor, the windshield surprisingly only having one long crack going from the top left corner to the bottom right. It was going to be a pain in the ass getting this thing out of the shop on his own.

On his own. But he wasn’t alone, was he? The source of that voice from earlier had to still be here. Murdoc hadn’t seen a live body in the street so it was impossible for him to have escaped. He opened the car door, taking his gun with him just in case Norm’s head still had bite. He was careful to step over the lower half of the body as to not ruin his boots, looking around the place for the head and the body that was supposed to not be dead or undead yet.

“Oi, anyone here? Come on, I heard your voice earlier, you defenseless shite…” Murdoc called out into the open. By the words of the other he could gather some kind of context from their situation. They hadn’t realized the fucking zombie apocalypse had started already and just thought it was a regular old day. They had to be some kind of moron if they walked through this town and thought it was a regular old day.

He took a deep breath just to let out a sigh. “Hello? Hello? I’m going to leave if you don’t come out. I’m giving you a good deal if you do too, I won’t kill you and you can come along with me until I get too tired of you and abandon you,” he snickered to himself. He tiptoed forward over the broken glass to the front of the car.

“Oh Jesus, look at the face on you now.”

At least none of the guys bones looked broken.  His body sat up against the wall, obviously unconscious. Scratches were left scarcely on his face from the glass and had cut up his suit. Now it actually looked like it was meant for him.

It was really just his eye. His left eye to be exact. The most peculiar part of it all was his eye. Both of his eyes remained open, one now pitch black while the other remained normal. He looked like something out of a horror movie, the victim you find with a knife stuck in their eye.

Murdoc hesitated before he neared the other. He came close enough to inspect his body and clothes for bite marks, relieved to find absolutely none. He kneeled down, putting his finger under his nose. Still breathing.

The blue haired man’s backpack that was over his shoulder now laid on the floor next to him. He unzipped it slowly, digging through only to find spare clothes. He gripped his hand around a leather wallet, opening it up to find some sort of ID.

“Stuart Harold Pot, huh? Well, I’m sorry Stuart for hitting you with my car. But not really. Saved your life, didn’t I? Least you’re still alive technically. Fuck, you really are a face-ache to look at…” Murdoc started to talk to the comatosed body as if it could actually hear was he was saying. “Alright, alright, alright, into the car you go I reckon. But if you don’t start functioning in the next couple of days I’m tossin’ you out for zombie food.”        

[kennalligatorguin]

Boss Week Day 6

Show off a creation that Jack hasn’t seen.

SO, when Mark did his eight-hour stream to try to get to the Mun in Kerbal Space Program, I was feeling inspired.

So I wrote a fic about both him and Jack (since Jackaboy is so good at the game) where they get sucked into the game and have to find a way to get out.

Jack got sucked into the game a few weeks before Mark, and due to some issues, he got stranded in space. The boss calls in their best engineer (Mark) to help create a rocket to save Jack and bring him back to Kerben safely.

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The Rise of the Planet of the Kerbals

Mark opened his eyes and immediately, a chill ran down his spine. This was not his home, let alone his bedroom. Where was he? He sat up and winced as his back cracked. The small bed that he had been sleeping on was very thin, and with his head resting on the pillow, his legs dropped over the other side. Mark tried to remember where he was last, and all that came to mind was finishing his March charity live stream and going to bed not long afterward.  

"Mark Kerman, please report to the vehicle assembly building for duty, Mark Kerman, please report to the vehicle assembly building.", a voice came over an intercom in the room Mark had been sleeping in, and Mark raised an eyebrow. Were they talking to him? But his last name wasn't Kerman, so it must be someone else, right?

Wrong.

Mark's stomach dropped when he saw that he had a name label on his shirt, which read, "Mark Kerman." With a long, dread-filled sigh, Mark stood up and began to make his way to the assembly building.

Even though he had no idea where the assembly building was.

Mark walked down a hallway and froze when he saw something he didn't want to see.

There was a group of actual Kerbals in the hallway.

"The hell-?", Mark asked himself, but shrugged it off and acted like everything was fine.  Why didn't any of them notice that he was a human and not a Kerbal? Mark had a bad feeling in his stomach but pressed onwards to the assembly building.

When he entered the large space, he looked around in wonder at the Kerbals hard at work. No, wait, they were just waddling around.

A Kerbal in a business suit approached him, adjusting his tie. "Greetings. I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you into duty today.", the Kerbal stated, clearly the boss of the place. Mark looked down on the Kerbal, who only came up to his knees. Mark nodded, and the Kerbal smiled. "Well, you obviously know about our launch yesterday, about how we sent a... uh... Jan Kerman? What that his name? Whatever, Jan's design of rocket had a flaw in it. There wasn't enough fuel to get back down to Kerben, and he has no parachute. Jan is stuck in orbit, and we need you to give him a refuel and a parachute. It won't be easy, but you're the best engineer we have. There's a private communication room, typically used for families to get in contact with astronauts in orbit. I want you to use it to talk to Jan, get to know him. He may be able to give you some tips. If you want to, you can grab a portable communication device to talk with him while you're building your rocket. It's to your left, good luck astronaut!", the Kerbal walked away and Mark cursed to himself.

Kerbals were renowned for being so stupid that it was one of the attributes in their profile. But Mark would like to postpone his take-off as long as possible, despite his love for space.

Mark entered the private communication room and took a seat in the chair. He winced as the chair dropped to floor level and Mark sighed as he refused to try and adjust it. He turned on the computer, and a menu was pulled up, showing the ships that were in orbit. There was only one, so Mark simply clicked it and watched as the loading screen displayed a smiling Kerbal, and the words, "Please wait as we connect to our astronauts!"

Finally, a static-filled screen popped up, a moving figure in the background was blurred by the heavy interference. The Kerbal seemed to be trying to clear the interference on his end. "Ugh. C'mon you piece of junk, work!", the Kerbal muttered, and Mark jumped as the Kerbal smacked something in frustration. "Are ya fookin' kidding me!? What a piece of shite...", the voice swore, and Mark's eyes widened as he realized that he recognized the voice. "Wait a minute, Jack!?"

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"Wait a minute, Jack!?", Mark exclaimed, and the green-haired Irishman sat up as the static cleared. "Mark! Holy crap it's you! Oh, thank Jesus! I actually have a chance of getting out of here!", Jack leaned back against his seat in relief, letting out a breath he had no idea he was holding.

"What are you doing here?", Mark asked and Jack rolled his eyes. "Just lookin' at the scenery. I'M STRANDED IN THE COLD VACUUM OF SPACE!", the Irishman yelled, and Mark winced, though did admit that he probably deserved that. "How did you get stranded in space? That business suit guy kind of gave me the short version and called you Jan.", Mark explained, and Jack sighed. "I was supposed t' refuel the space station up here, which is where I am now. I was also supposed to retrieve something from in here. I got that into my ship and was getting ready to get the hell out of here when a loose piece of spacecraft smashed into my ship! My ship fell back down to Kerben and fookin' crashed! Now I'm stuck up here!", Jack explained, and Mark frowned deeply. "Well damn. Well, I have no plans on how to get you down. I haven't dealt with space stations in Kerbal Space Program yet. Do you think you can help me?", Mark asked, and Jack grinned. "Yeah! I'm not the best at this, but I did get up here safely! What's your profession? I'm guessing that it's engineer, right? I'm a pilot.", Jack said, and Mark shrugged. "According to the business guy, I'm an engineer.", Mark explained and Jack nodded.

"I figured as much.", the Irishman replied. "Okay, so where should I start? I mean, I just managed to get to the Mun during my stream, but that was after eight hours of stressful work and several explosions.", Mark pointed out and Jack seemed to gain a more awkward composure. "Well, I have some good news for you.", the green-haired man said, his gaze avoiding Mark. "Okay, what is it then?", the blue-haired American asked, worried by the weird vibe from his friend.

"If you so happen to explode or blow up, you're alright!", Jack finally said and Mark looked at him like he was crazy. "What do you mean? I'll be dead!", the American exclaimed, and Jack chuckled. "Well, let's just say that getting up here was seventh times the charm!", Jack laughed and Mark gaped at him. "You mean you exploded?", he spluttered and his fellow Youtuber nodded. "Yeah. It was fookin' terrifying the first time, but after the second time, it wasn't too bad.", Jack explained and Mark sighed. "Jeez. I just wanna know why we're here. Getting sucked into a video game is usually something that only happens in fan-games.", the American pointed out and the Irishman nodded in agreement. "Yeah, when I find out what or who is responsible for this, I'm gonna punch the FUCK out of 'em!", Jack yelled angrily. Mark nodded in agreement. "Yeah, this isn't good. Okay, I'm gonna switch this to the portable tablet, okay? Expect some static.", Mark warned as he plugged in a tablet to the computer. Jack waited silently as the video was transferred to the smaller device, but flinched as something that he couldn't explain happened.

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Mark paused in confusion as Jack seemed to stumble and fall off the chair as he picked up the tablet. "Are you okay there?", Mark asked as more static came on screen. "Dammit, work you piece of junk.", Mark cursed as he lightly shook the tablet. Jack's startled yelps could be heard and Mark paused in concern. "Jack? What's going on?", he asked as the Irishman seemed to struggle to stand as if the space station was tilted. "I don't know, this hasn't happened before-WOAH!", Jack yelled out as suddenly everything straightened out and he could stand again. Mark was very confused. Something seemed very fishy here. And something was wrong with Jack's video feed or camera. He looked... basic and simple, oddly enough.

Jack noticed it too and turned to the screen. He had an idea. He felt that something was wrong with him, he felt... restricted. He had a bad feeling that he knew why this was happening. "Hey Mark, can you tilt the tablet to the left? You're tilted for me.", Jack lied. Mark obliged, and Jack struggled to hold onto his chair as his whole world seemed to tilt. "TILT IT BACK! STRAIGHTEN THE TABLET!", Jack yelled, and Mark immediately did, and Jack fell to the floor. "What just happened!?", Mark gaped, and Jack climbed into the chair and strapped himself in.

"I think I know what's wrong. I'm up in space, you're the astronaut in control now, you have to build the ship to save me. I'm not in control anymore, I'm not loaded in the game! I'm two dimensional! Whenever you tilt the tablet I go flyin' because I'm not in space right now, I only exist on the screen that you see! So when you tilt it, I'm tilted! I'm not loaded in space because you're not in space! I'm only loaded in the fookin' tablet!", Jack explained loudly. Mark gasped as he slightly tilted the tablet to check and Jack's spinning chair spun to have Jack facing the way Mark tilted the tablet. "No way, it has to be some kind of coincidence.", Mark insisted and Jack rolled his eyes.

The Irishman reached out towards the screen and placed his hands on it. To Jack, he was simply pressing his hands to the screen, but that was also true for Mark. "The screen is the camera... you're practically a cartoon!", Mark gasped and Jack nodded as he pulled away from the screen. "So basically...", Mark paused as he tried to think of something to say. "Crap there's no way to put it basically.", Mark grumbled. Jack sighed. "Well let's get t' building, shall we? I'm not getting any younger!", the Irishman said and Mark nodded in agreement.

Now he just had to figure out how to get the tablet into the assembly building without putting Jack through hell.

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After carefully maneuvering into the assembly room with the tablet in hand, Mark approached a podium with a screen on it as ordered by Jack. "Okay, enter your name. Remember, it's Mark Kerman, not Mark Fischbach. It probably won't end well if you get it wrong.", Jack reminded, causing Mark to frown at Jack. "Okay, I said I needed your help, but you don't need to tell me to enter my name.", he grumbled, causing Jack to chuckle. "Sorry, I'm just used to being stranded in a world of idiots.", the Irishman explained, earning him another eye roll from Mark.

"Hey, wait a damn second! That suit guy told me a completely  different story about how you got stranded than the one you told me!", Mark pointed out and Jack's eyes narrowed. "I don't like that guy. Even before you got here I've always kept an eye on him. You should do the same. He might screw you over somehow.", Jack warned and Mark nodded in agreement.

This would not be easy.

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There it is! I never finished this, this is all I wrote, but it is one of the first actual pieces of writing that I actually made that I consider decent. This thing is also coming up on being one year old, yikes.

But that’s the work!

@therealjacksepticeye