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mrs-gucci · 3 years ago

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Mr. Handsy {Clyde Logan x wife!Reader}

@icarusinthesea :

Okay, okay. I think I've thought of something. Eh, it's a mediocre idea, but it does it for me. Fighting with Clyde followed by sweet, hot, nasty make up sex. I can not think of anything else. But whatever you write I'll love. 🥰

author’s notes: hello, hello! writers block has been hitting HARDCORE as of late, which is kind of a bummer, but luckily I’m feeling a bit better now! @icarusinthesea thank you for this request!! I hope it was worth the (very long) wait, and I send love to you, friend <3 <3

warnings: fluff. smut. club brawls. violence against an asshole. protectiveness. dom!Clyde. oral sex (m receiving). rough sex. unprotected sex/creampie.

(possible) tw’s: non-con touching (not by Clyde). physical conflict. sex in a public restroom.

word count: 1.9k

my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie @einmal-im-traum @charliesahottie @gotham-city-uber-driver @gildedstarlight @slytheriin2002 clyde’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings @icarusinthesea @lumdelacour @readingreaver @eagerforhoney @trubluepensfan @beachwoodmonet if you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, the sign up is linked here and can also be found in my description :)

You had a bad feeling about this place from the very beginning, from the moment you stepped into this stupid sleazy club for your co-worker’s birthday.

Clyde decided to tag along, mainly to hang out with the other poor guys whose wives dragged them along tonight.

The bass pulses your eardrums as you make your way over to the booth that they’d claimed, saying some very loud ‘hi’s’ and ‘hello’s’ to everyone before taking a seat on Clyde’s lap.

Your outfit certainly matches the locale of tonight’s party, sexy and risqué while maintaining at least some coverage and dignity for your larger areas. Clyde’s been having some trouble keeping his eyes, and now that he can, his hands, off you.

His calloused flesh hand runs over your thigh and hip in a soothing manner, mindless in its movements over your exposed skin.

Soon, a good dancing song comes on and no matter how much you try to beg Clyde to join you on the crowded floor, he refuses, insisting that you go have some fun with your friends.

His eyes keep a close watch on you, knowing that unfortunately, it’s highly likely that some bonehead Joe will come along and think he can touch without permission.

He finds himself in a sort of entranced state, watching the way your hips move when you dance, watches your skin bounce and jiggle with each motion, sees the way the multicolored lights bounce off the sequins on your dress…

Sure enough, said bonehead Joe dances his way over to you, not-so-subtly checking you out from a bit of a distance before making his approach.

Clyde almost instantly leaps into action when his hand touches your hip and he slides in behind you. Thinking that the man behind you is Clyde, you start grinding against him a bit more, smirking.

But, only after a second or two, his motions and touch begin to feel awfully foreign. You’ve just truly begun to doubt your dancing partner’s identity when he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Keep dancing like this and I’ll just have to take you home, babygirl.”

Goosebumps form on your skin in disgust the moment you hear an unfamiliar voice, yanking away from his grubby grip.

“How dar—“

“Hey, you!”

Your eyes widen and you look around the man to see a very angry-looking Clyde storming his way over to where you’re standing.

He turns the handsy man around with a hand on his shoulder, then gives him a shove. “Can’t ya see she’s married, asshole? Don’t you ever think ya can just go ‘round here, touchin’ what ain’t yours.”

“Cly—“

“Don’t ya even start with me right now, Y/N. I can’t believe ya didn’t stop ‘im, can’t believe ye kept grindin’ against ‘im.”

Your eyes widen. “Clyde, p-please, it’s not like tha—“

“I thought I told ya t’ can it, Y/N.”

You shudder at his commanding and harsh tone, immediately backing down and biting your lip as the tears swell in your eyes.

The man wears a small smirk, giving Clyde an equally rough shove backwards. “And what, you’re telling me she’s yours? Bullshit she is. Who’d ever wanna marry a one-armed redneck like you?”

Big mistake. Clyde used to just stand down and shut off whenever someone made fun of his disability, but usually now, he just gets fucking pissed.

Sure enough, his jaw clenches and he quickly lunges at Mr. Handsy, forcefully knocking him to the scuffed dance floor. Often times, mostly due to his kind and gentle demeanor, you forget that Clyde’s a veteran. A special ops veteran, at that.

You can’t deny that bearing witness to his unbridled anger and dominance isn’t at least a little bit sexy, even if you do feel incredibly guilty about not realizing sooner that it wasn’t Clyde.

Like the coward he truly is, and that many men like him are, he flees the scene quickly when he looks up and sees the anger in Clyde’s eyes.

Meanwhile, you instantly rush up to him, apologizing repeatedly. “Clyde, I’m so sorry, I thought it was you and I didn’t mean to—“

He snatches your wrist, bending down so that his hot, slightly strained breath wafts across your face. “You’d better yer slutty ass into the restroom right fuckin’ now.” He growls, letting you go.

You nod, whimpering under your breath as you scurry off into the bathroom.

He follows after you, pushing you into the single stall before reaching around to lock the door.

“Clyde, please, I’m so sorry. I promise that I didn’t know it wasn’t you until he spoke and I pulled away right after that. I would never…”

He holds a hand up and you trail off, then crosses it back over his chest along with the other. When you look up at him, ready to apologize further, he gives you a subtle head shake and a faint smile.

“Get m’ cock out.”

You know, then, that he’s not mad, and you know exactly what he wants from you. You step up to him with a small smirk and pop the button on his Levi’s, pulling the zipper down before reaching in to fish out his half-hard length.

“Now stroke it. You know how I like it.”

Your hand holds a steady grip around the protrusion, starting off slow but quickening randomly, just as he likes it.

His head tilts back onto the cheap tiled wall, nostrils flaring as he exhales shakily. “Thaaaaat’s m’ girl, just like that.”

You speed up just a bit, focusing your pressure and ministrations on the upper half of his shaft, moving the little bit of excess skin up and down his shiny pink head.

“Mmmmffhhh.” He groans through pursed lips, hips rutting forward into your touch.

Suddenly, he pushes your hand away, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to cope with the sudden loss of stimulation on his pulsing arousal.

“Knees.”

You get onto your knees, using his shoes as cushioning.

“Mouth open.”

Your jaw falls open and he wastes no time in moving himself into proper position, sheathing himself fully in your mouth.

“Ghhhohhh, s-shit.”

You’re choking right off the bat, shoulders shaking with each violent cough.

“Yeah, take it. Gon’ make ye choke on me, shove m’ cock down yer lil throat ‘till ya can’t breathe no more.”

You somehow manage to moan around him in between your gags and coughs, lungs panicked for the rough cutoff of airflow by Clyde’s length. Tears begin to swell in your eyes, soon running down your cheeks.

His eyebrows are tightly knitted in the center of his forehead, skin glistening with the beginnings of sweat as his hips rut into your cavern even quicker and rougher now.

Clyde has to physically pull himself away from your mouth, shuddering as his cock bobs and throbs angrily at the loss of friction. His hand splays out on the wall, chest heaving as he takes a moment to re-gain composure.

Then, he looks down at you, gaze sizzling your very skin.

“Up. Turn yerself ‘round n’ bend over, ass out n’ legs spread nicely.”

You put yourself into the position, wiggling your ass just a bit for play after pushing your jean shorts down, earning you a harsh smack across your newly-exposed skin. He smirks when you squeal softly, giving himself a few lazy strokes as he steps up behind you, lips instantly attacking your neck.

“Yer gon’ walk outta ‘ere with all o’ my marks on your neck, hickeys n’ bite marks. Maybe then everyone’ll understand who it is ya belong t’."

His chin digs into your shoulder, then he’s thrusting forward, filling you up and stretching you out to the max. You gasp, eyelids fluttering as your eyes roll into the back of your skull.

“Ohhhhh.”

He groans into your ear, chin digging into your shoulder as he begins fucking you fast and hard. There’s nothing gentle or romantic about this union; it’s hunger and wanting, it’s pure carnal lust.

Tears quickly swell up in your eyes at the sweet pleasure currently surging through your body, tickling every nerve ending and igniting every pleasure center.

It’s humid in the club, the bathroom no exception and already, a sheen of sweat has formed on the surface of your skin. Clyde’s good hand takes an even firmer hold on the meat of your hips, hips thrusting at an impossibly fast pace.

“G’damnit, wrapped ‘round m-me so tight, fffuck Y/N. Such a lil’ cccunt, love shovin’ m’ b-big cock in ya, ssssplittin’ ya right in half--christ.”

You love how his accent gets thicker and thicker at times like this, so much so that sometimes you can’t even make sense of what he’s saying. It’s adorable.

“Mmm, C-Clyde! Please baby, please mmmake me cum!”

His lips latch onto the side of your neck, sucking as hard as they possibly can while he reaches around to rub your clit with the cool metal digits of his prosthetic.

Your hips instantly grind down on him, a shaky gasp leaving your lips. “Ohh god, mmmmmfffuck--right there! Yes, yes, Clyde!”

“Say y-yer mine.” He growls into your ear, panting. “Tell everyone who ya bbbelong to. Scream ma name w-when ya cum.”

“Y-Yours, all yours, Clyde. I’m yours!” You whimper.

Clyde fucks you with everything he’s got, biting into your skin and sucking more of the flesh until you’re littered with marks. It’s not long before you’re tumbling over the edge, body trembling as you release all over his shaft with a shout of his name.

“Clyde! C-Clyde, fuck!”

Not long after you, Clyde falls over the edge, desperately rutting and fucking each drop of his hot load deep into your spasming cunt.

“Y/N, g’damnit...fuuuckin’ s-shit!”

Both of you are rendered breathless as you come down from your respective highs. His lips and tongue gently soothe the harsh bites and bruises that have been left behind in his wake.

He sighs softly when he pulls out, helping you pull your shorts back up before tucking himself back into his pants. When you turn around, he crashes his lips into yours, hands resting gently on your hips.

“‘m real sorry fer that, Y/N; dunno what got int’ me. I didn’t hurt ya, did I?”

You smile, cradling his face in your hands. “Clyde, there is no need to apologize or feel bad for that. You know if I was uncomfortable, I would’ve stopped you or said something. I loved it, more than I probably should have, and I love you.”

His lips tug up into a soft, lopsided smile, relief flooding across his expression.

“I love ya too, Y/N, so, so much. Thank ya fer puttin’ up with me n’ bein’ mine.”

“No ‘thank you’ necessary, baby. I’m yours, always yours.”

Clyde grins, pulling you in for a hug as he repeats your words out loud.

“All mine.”

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

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The Pact: Date #2

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 6.4k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: none, so much fluff (adkshdaslkfj...yeah. fluff.)

a/n: please, if you feel ok with it, let me know how this date was! Remember, you guys are deciding the outcome. Every little bit of feedback, even if it’s just unintelligible screaming, helps. I’d be very interested to hear your thoughts on how this date differed from last week’s!

Date #2

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It’s safe to say that by this point, you’ve replayed last Saturday’s date in your mind about sixty thousand times. Yet, despite your near-constant analysis, you find that you’re no more prepared for today’s date than before.

Perhaps it has something to do with the way it was described last week, giving you a little insight to how different this date would be compared to the relaxed atmosphere before.

Classic. Romantic. Picture perfect.

Your mind races with the possibilities; heaven knows that could be any of the boys. But you can’t help but expect one in particular to appear on your doorstep.

You shuffle back and forth before your mirror, triple checking your reflection. Jungkook texted you earlier this week with some instructions.

Dresscode was set to casual-nice. Whatever that means.

Make sure you’ve got your T-money card, which gives you access to the Subway.

Your green sweater vest is tucked neatly into your black skirt, giving you a posh academia vibe that you’ve honestly been dying to try out for a while. Hair falling in thick ringlets around your shoulders, the look is complete with black suede boots that only extend up to your ankle.

“Oh yeah,” you grin at your reflection. “I look good.”

And just there, resting atop the sleeves of your turtleneck, sits Hobi’s bracelet. The word ‘jagi’ is facing the ceiling, which is enough to soften your smile, remembering Hobi’s sweet date.

You’d gotten Jungkook’s permission to send a little message to Hobi, thanking him profusely for the date. It’d been fun to get to chat with him for a minute, already missing him. If you’re honest with yourself, you miss hanging out with all of them. It’s only been a couple of weeks since you were last all together, but it feels like months.

The upside to this Saturday is the fact that (after you’d sent some choice texts to Jungkook), you were given a time as to when your date would appear. Which is why you’re sitting on the edge of your seat at six o’clock ticks ever closer, waiting for the tell-tale knock on the door.

Every time a car turns onto your street, you’re leaping up to peek out the window, holding your breath until it passes by. However, this time you find yourself nearly passing out as a sleek black car rolls to a stop in front of your house.

You lose all ability to think straight when Kim Taehyung steps out of the car, straightening his beige cable knit sweater and puffing his cheeks out as he exhales. His black hair tumbles into his eyes, just long enough to brush up against his brows and make him brush it away.

Stumbling back from the window before he can see you spying on him, you bring a hand up to your chest.

“Ok, ok,” you rush to compose yourself. “Holy-”

A happy knock on your door cuts you off, and the only thing you can hope for is that you don’t say something stupid within the first sixty seconds of this date. If you can make past the first sixty seconds, you should be good, right?

Right?

You don’t have time to ponder as you force yourself to take a deep breath and open up the door. Sure enough, there stands Taehyung. Looking like he just stepped out of a French renaissance painting, complete with a smile.

A smile that’s meant for you, you realize with no shortage of shock. Grinning at you while he tilts his head to one side, his hair falls across his face from it’d been semi-parted.

“Hi, my name is Kim Taehyung,” he taps his heels together and extends his hand out. As he swoops into a bow, you can’t help the giggle the bubbles up at the silly scene before you. Gently placing your hand in his, you watch with wide eyes as he brings it to his lips. Planting a soft kiss to your knuckles, he looks up at you from behind his hair. “And you are?”

At this point, you’ve realized that there’s no stopping the mad blush crawling up your neck. Attempting to shake it off with a laugh, you shake your head.

“Are you lost or something?”

Taehyung gasps, stepping back and nearly tumbling down the stairs. “C’mon!” He groans, his smile never faltering. “I was trying to be classy!”

Shrugging, you grab your bag equipped with the essentials (keys, chapstick, mints...more mints), and lock the door behind you. Linking your arm through Taehyung’s and delighting in the momentary surprise that graces his features, you smile up at him.

“Where to, Mr. Kim?”

“Ah! That’s better.” The two of you make it to the car, Taehyung opening the passenger side before hustling over to the driver’s side. Once he’s in and buckled up, he answers your question. “Choose a number between one and ten.” Coming to stop at a stop sign, he looks to you expectantly.

“One.”

He raises his brows, making a show of turning the blinker on to signal turning right. “Good choice. We’ll get there in about...twelve minutes.” You nod, smiling softly. “How have you been?”

“Good. It’s been weird, not getting to hang out with everyone,” you admit. Tae hums in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s been weird not seeing you around the house. What have you been up to?”

The two of you get lost in conversation, relating your most recent horror stories from work or your classes. Taehyung listens raptly, snorting when you mention that you considered bringing your homework with you on the date.

“Seriously!” You laugh. “There’s so much of it. I swear, my professors have all ganged up on me.”

Tae turns into a closed off parking lot, swiping a small card in front of the monitor and pulling forward when the gates swing open. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. Hopefully I keep you entertained enough to keep you from doing homework,” he teases.

You gape at the huge building before you, the architectural design enough to have your mouth running dry. It looks like it was taken straight out of ancient Greece, the pillars stretching up high and boasting chiseled divots. Leading to the entrance is a path of hanging wisteria, the soft purple petals swaying in the breeze.

In fact, if you hadn’t currently been sitting in a car that was definitely a product of the 21st century, you would have thought that you’d accidentally time-traveled.

Taehyung’s soft chuckle brings you back to reality, and you watch as he throws the car in park and rushes around to open your door before you even have time to twitch a muscle. You find yourself torn between gaping at the building and the man in front of you, as he extends a hand out to you and pulls you out of the car.

“What is this place?” You ask, afraid to even blink for fear of everything disappearing. Tae gently links your arm through his, which in retrospect was probably a good idea. Heaven knows you’re at risk of wandering off and never returning.

The evening sky does wonders for Taehyung, the sleepy golden sunlight settling over him. “It’s a project that’s been in the works for a long time, actually. They’re bringing together different artworks - some are replicas that they’ve been permitted to use - from all over the world. The best of the best, all in one place.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking up as you enter the small tunnel of hanging wisteria. “It’s not open to the public yet, they just finished moving the final pieces last week.”

You blink, looking up at one of your closest friends with awe. Squeezing his arm, you take a moment to pause and look around at all the beautiful wisteria.

“I’m friends with some of the curators here,” Tae explains when he catches your eye. “They said we could have a look around...if you want to…?”

In response, you wiggle out of his grasp and take off toward the entrance, Taehyung laughing and hurrying after you.

The art museum is, in a word, massive. The two of you fall into a companionable silence as you take in the artwork, occasionally wandering away from each other to get a closer look at something. Every so often Taehyung will call your name, motioning for you to look at a piece he especially likes.

There’s a point where Taehyung is trying to explain the difference between the replicas and the real oil paintings. “See, this one doesn’t have the same kind of sheen, so it’s obviously fake.” He reaches out to touch it, but freezes as soon as his fingers touch the painting.

“What?” You ask, craning your neck to see. He turns to face you with a horrified expression.

“It’s real.”

You choke a laugh, seeing the way he slowly removes his hands from the painting as though afraid to set off a bomb. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head, looking up and down the hallway before whispering to you. “Run. They’ll kill me if they find out that I touched that thing with my bare hands. It’s like...three hundred years old or something.”

“Wha-”

“Split up!” He hisses, taking off down the opposite end of the corridor. Heart pounding even as you laugh, you run the other way. Taehyung’s laugh bounces off the walls, only making you laugh even more.

It doesn’t take long before the sun has dipped below the horizon and the two of you find yourselves in a spot dedicated to different sculptures. Sitting down on the bench in front of them, you realize just how long you’ve been up and running around.

“Wow,” you breathe out, Taehyung grunting in agreement. “So you weren’t caught?”

“Not yet, at least.” He fidgets a little beside you before speaking again. “Actually, there’s one more thing left to do here.”

You glance over at him, delighted to see that his hair has somehow grown even fluffier over the course of the date. “What is it?”

“Let me show you.” He hops up, leading the way to the end of the corridor. He enters a small room that’s completely empty save for a white backdrop and a camera.

He walks to the camera, making sure it’s on before gesturing for you to walk before the backdrop.

“Think of it like one giant photo booth,” he explains. “Pose, and I’ll choose a backdrop for you.”

You chew on your lip, feeling a little awkward as you stand before the camera. “What should I do? I’m not used to people taking pictures of me.”

Taehyung frowns. “What do you mean? I take pictures of you all the time.”

Against the start white backdrop, there’s no chance he doesn’t see your blush. “No, er...not like that. I’m not used to posing.”

“Oh.” He steps back, crossing his arms. “Just...smile?”

He snaps a few photos before rushing over to a small printer. You wander over as well, laughing when you see what’s become of your photos.

There you are, smiling awkwardly where Mona Lisa usually sits in her painting. “Oh, that’s horrible.”

“Da Vinci would love it,” Taehyung objects.

“Here, I’ll take your picture.” You run over to the camera while Taehyung steps up front, placing both hands on his hips while looking off into the distance. Selecting the ‘Starry Night’ background, you take the picture.

“Oooh, very nice!” Tae croons when he sees the photo. “But I want both of us in this.”

“What do you mean, both? There’s only enough room for one-”

“We’ll make it work,” Taehyung says as he drags you in front of the camera. Fiddling with it for a moment, he turns back to you. “Ok, it’s set to take four photos in a row. Stay still.”

“How are you going to…?” Your words fade out as a light in the camera begins to blink, counting down. Taehyung comes around you, slipping his arms around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

Just as the camera flashes for the first photo, Taehyung decides to try his hand at tickling you mercilessly.

You squeal, trying to get away but unable to as Tae keeps his iron-like grip on you. “Stay still!” He scolds in a serious tone, even as a smile is pushing its way onto his lips.

“S-stop!” You can hardly breathe as the attack continues and the camera flashes again. “Tae! You horrible human being-”

Suddenly he drops the attack, standing up straight and smiling at the camera. You take the opportunity just as the final flash goes off to shove him, laughing maniacally. He shouts, stumbling backward dramatically. Taking the temporary distraction to your advantage, you hurry over to where the pictures are being printed. As each photo comes out, you can hardly hold back your laughter.

Picking up the first photo, taken just as Taehyung had decided to attack you, you turn around to face him. “Look at how evil you look here!”

He saunters over, a lazy smile on his face. “Oh-ho, classic.”

Sure enough, the other photos are just as entertaining, although you can’t help but groan at the second photo which shows you with a mixture of laughter and annoyance as Taehyung fights a smile. “Oof, this one isn’t the most flattering…”

“Does that mean I get to keep it?” Taehyung asks quietly, taking the photo from your hands and looking at it closely. “You look cute.”

You blink, but shrug it off. Taehyung has always been a bit more forthcoming with his flirtatious manner, but it’s just now that you realize there was actually some sort of truth behind all of those silly remarks over the past few years.

Huh.

Taehyung checks the time, looking up at you with wide eyes. “Oh, we have to hurry!”

“Why?” You manage to ask before Taehyung takes off in a brisk walk. He grabs your hand, giving you no choice but to try to keep up.

He doesn’t directly answer your question. “You brought your T-money, right?”

“Yeah...but why?”

“Why do I feel like we’re going to get in trouble for this?”

“We won’t. I will.” Taehyung doesn’t look the least bit bothered as he slips a hat on over his hair. “That is, if we get caught.”

“So no pressure.” You say sarcastically, wishing you had some sort of invisibility cloak.

You never knew that the subway could be such a rush. It’s a Saturday night, people are filing in and out of the Subway at a rapid pace as they chat jovially together. Taehyung keeps his head down, attempting to blend in and completely failing.

“Tae, you’re going to be recognized.”

He shrugs. “I do this all the time. Hasn’t happened yet.”

You furrow your brows. “You do? I had no idea.”

“It’s nice to pretend to be normal every once in a while,” he confesses, looking down at his phone. “Just don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret I’ve managed to keep for years.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

Pulling up the timer app on his phone, he grins mischievously at you. “Ok. We have 60 minutes to get to three different places.” He holds up his phone for you to see. “First, we’re going to that night market you hit up all the time to get Tteok-bokki, which you love probably way too much-”

“Hey! It’s a healthy obsession!” You defend yourself, only earning an eyebrow raise in return.

“Whatever you say, weirdo. Then, we’re going to that walnut shop - you know the one at the end of the line?”

“We’re going to a walnut shop?”

“Yeah. Namjoon’s got this new obsession with them, so I promised I’d pick some up for him”

You snort. “Ok, and the last spot?”

Taehyung lowers his phone, toggling the timer to 60 minutes and looking at you and chuckling. “It’s a surprise. You ready?”

“Wait, how on earth are we supposed to get to all of these places within an hour?” You ask, incredulous. “Especially if we’re stopping to eat or buy stuff?”

Finger hovering over the start button, Taehyung looks around the busy subway station. “We hurry.” With that, he links his hand with yours and begins the timer. “Run!”

Taking off like thieves on the run, you swipe your T-money card and hurtle past the barrier, rushing to see which line to take. “It’s the red line, right?” You ask, roles switching as it’s now you dragging Taehyung behind you. “Hurry! It’s already here!”

Rushing over to where the red line train is just pulling in, you leap through the doors as soon as they open. Taehyung is right behind you, and the two of you stand off to the side with your faces down and trying to hide your giggles. He leans down to whisper something in your ear, your head automatically tilting to hear him better.

“Keep an eye out for our stop,” he urges, squeezing your hand. You nod, remaining on high alert even as you’re bursting with excitement. You know that if anybody found out that you and Taehyung were out here, looking very much like a couple, you would be toast.

The rush goes straight to your head, pumping you full of adrenaline as your stop approaches. A thought hits you, and you hurry to voice it before you have to jump out and run.

“How are we going to get you through the night market without being recognized?”

“Oh,” Taehyung angles his body toward the door, preparing. “I talked with the owner of the stall you go to. He promised to have the food ready and waiting for us, we just have to meet him in the back.”

You still have no idea how you’re going to make it through the market without being recognized, but there’s no more time for questions as the train slows to a stop and the doors slide open. In a single heartbeat the two of you leap out and take off toward the stairs that will lead you out into the night air.

It’s embarrassing just how much you’re panting by the time you reach the top of the stairs, but you shrug it off as you see the huge crowd mulling outside of the market. Without giving you a single second to doubt, Taehyung plunges into the crowd.

The two of you weave in and out, a startled laugh coming from you as the two of you pass by a stall filled with BTS merchandise. Taehyung hesitates for a moment, almost looking like he wants to stop in, but thinks better of it.

The people around you are so focused on the different stalls and their night out that they pay you no mind as you pass by, bumping into people with every step you take. If only they knew that it was Kim Taehyung bumping into them.

He never lets go of your hand as you make your way to your favorite food stall, for fear of losing you in the crowd. Glancing back at you, Taehyung shouts above the din.

“It’s been almost eight minutes!”

You nod, once again wondering how on earth you’re going to make it to all the places Taehyung has planned. Your mouth runs a little dry as you see the long line of people waiting at the food stall, all of them wanting a taste of the delicious tteok-bokki. Going in a wide circle around the crowd, the two of you end up behind the stall where it’s surprisingly empty.

Taehyung wraps on the back entrance, loud enough to be heard over the loud night. A moment later an elderly man sticks his head out, eyes crinkling with a smile as he sees the two of you.

“Ah, I was just wondering when you’d be showing up! Let me grab your order.” He winks at you guys before disappearing back into the little stall. You take a moment to breathe, looking up at the starry sky. Taehyung joins you, smiling softly.

“Why 60 minutes?” You ask quietly. Taehyung shrugs.

“I make this run whenever I can,” he responds quietly. “I’ve never been able to do it in less than an hour. Thought that it’d be fun to try to break the record with you.”

You laugh quietly. “How come I didn’t know that about you? Why didn’t you invite me before?”

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, his other hand still hanging loosely in yours. “The pact.” When you look at him with a confused expression, he goes on. “Think about it: have you ever hung out with any of us just one on one? At least, intentionally?”

You frown, running through your memories. “I mean, yeah, but-”

“Intentionally, though.”

Automatically your thoughts run to the memory of Hobi and that night you’d vented in his car for a solid two hours, tears running down your face. Or that time you’d gone shopping with Taehyung, that was intentional wasn’t it?

“We went shopping that one time,” you say.

“Yeah, but that was an emergency of sorts. Remember? You’d spilled on your shirt and had an interview for your internship soon,” he reminds you. “I took you shopping and dropped you off after.”

You remember that, but there were other times that you just spent time with one of the boys on purpose, right? Taehyung sees your thoughts, giving you another example.

“And that time you sat and talked with Hobi in his car for hours? He’d seen you walking and offered to give you a ride. That obviously wasn’t planned.”

You blink. “How did you know about that?”

Taehyung turns a little pink under the starlight, realizing that he wasn’t supposed to know that. “Hey, it’s not my fault. He wouldn’t shut up about it. But that’s not the point!” He quickly tries to backtrack, mussing his hair yet again.

“Right,” you sigh. “So what does that have to do with the pact? And what does the pact have to do with you and this weird route of yours?” You laugh, Taehyung chuckling nervously along with you.

He opens his mouth to respond, but at that moment the door opens and the same old man appears with a bag of your food. “Here you go!” He happily hands it over to Taehyung, who thanks him and hands him the money and thanks him profusely. You also thank him, smiling warmly.

As soon as the door shuts again, Taehyung is leading you back out into the crowd. He keeps a firm grip on the food, and you stare at it longingly. The two of you manage to make it out of the crowd without any complications, except for the fact that you had to drag Tae away from the merchandise booth.

Descending the stairs to the subway, you glance over at the food again. “Are we gonna eat that, or…?”

He squints at the screen that shows the different lines and arrival times. “We have four minutes before the yellow line gets here.” Stopping at the bottom of the stairs and standing off to the side, he hands you your food, chuckling as you tear into it. He shares it with you, devouring the food at an alarming rate.

It’s embarrassing to say that the two of you finish it with thirty seconds to spare.

“Wow,” you groan, rubbing your stomach as Tae throws the container away. “We’re messed up.”

He chuckles at you, checking the timer. “That, we are. But it was good, right?”

“Ugh, so good. I swear, that place is magic.”

This time, instead of running to the platform, you waddle. You get there just before the doors close, sliding in between the door and pole, which you cling to. Taehyung stands across from you, resting against the pole as well and smiling.

“Ready to go buy some walnuts?”

The question has you giggling. “Definitely.”

You fall into a comfortable silence, waiting for your stop to arrive. The walnut shop sits on the other end of the line, one of the final stops. It takes a few minutes to get there, each second ticking down. Once there’s only one stop left before you have to get off, you ask Taehyung to check the timer.

He raises his brows. “We’re making pretty good time. Thirty minutes left.”

“Nice!” You give him a high five, smiling simply because he is. “Let’s get these walnuts!”

Nevermind the fact that people listening in to your conversation think you’re crazy.

Once you make it to your stop, the two of you settle for a brisk walk rather than running. Together, you walk down the street hand in hand while trying to find the walnut shop.

“You never finished explaining that thing about the pact,” you recall. You’d nearly forgotten amongst the rush of eating and the sleepy subway ride after. Taehyung glances down at you, almost looking a little bummed out that you remembered.

“Oh...right.” He stops on the corner and presses the crosswalk sign. “Well, that’s one of the things about the pact. I never invited you to come along with me because I couldn’t. It doesn’t allow for intentional one-on-one activities.”

“You know how weird that is, right?”

He snorts. “Yeah, I know. But that’s how it is, I guess. All of those other times you were with any of us, alone, it wasn’t on purpose. It just worked out like that. You know, something about keeping everything even. And, spending too much time alone with you would probably lead to breaking the pact.”

Nodding, you tuck this information away for further examination. “Sounds like you guys thought of everything.”

“Almost.”

“Ok,” you begin to cross the quiet street, this side of Seoul starkly different in comparison with the busy night market. “So what does this route have to do with any of that? Why did you even start doing this in the first place? It’s...all over the place.”

Taehyung chews on the inside of his cheek. “Well...oh! We’re here!”

You roll your eyes as Taehyung bounds up the stairs of the walnut shop, which appears to be nearly closed. Why they’re still open at this time of night is beyond you. Do they really have people coming out to buy walnuts at all hours of the night?

The little shop is warm, and the young girl behind the counter looks anything but shocked as Taehyung enters. She immediately leans down to grab a small bag, placing it in front of her.

“Just the one bag?”

You pause to wonder just how many times Taehyung has frequented this shop for the employees to be so familiar with him. The thought makes you smile, picturing Taehyung sneaking in here late at night just to feed Namjoon’s odd walnut addiction.

“Just the one should be fine,” Tae responds, looking at you over his shoulder with a warm look. You don’t notice it, lost in your own thoughts as you wander over to a display.

Once he’s finished with the transaction, he wanders over to you. “Looks like we might just make it.”

You turn around, looking at him expectantly. “How much time is left?”

“Sixteen minutes. Let’s go,” he holds out his arm for you, which you rest your hand on the inner crook of his elbow. Bidding the girl goodnight, the two of you wander back out into the night.

“Soooo...where to next?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “I told you, it’s a surprise.”

The subway on this end of the city is much less crowded, it’s easy to find the blue line and hop on. You realize that you’re heading back to a stop fairly close to the night market, which makes you wonder.

“Why’d we go to the end of the line before this?” You ask. “It would’ve been much quicker to go here second.”

“Because,” Taehyung sits beside you, stretching his legs out. “It’s a spot that you can’t rush in. It’s meant to be the final destination.”

Giggling a little, you nudge him. “That sounds a little morbid.”

The Han River glistens from your viewpoint atop the bridge. Sitting next to Taehyung, your feet dangling off the edge, you take a deep breath.

“I see why this had to be the final stop,” you say as you breathe out. The entire Han River lays at your feet, the city lights bouncing off the surface and creating a dazzling atmosphere to rival that of the stars above you. People walk along the edge or ride bikes, their small figures making you realize just how high up you are.

“Mmm,” Taehyung hums beside you. He leans back, glancing over at you as you take in the view. “This is always the last stop.”

You take a moment to allow the sounds of the night wrap around you, tilting your head up to the stars and watching them wink down at you. A profound contentment settles over you, a smile playing on your lips.

“And my last question?” You mumble out. “What’s so special about this route?”

The quiet moment seems to be enough to urge Taehyung to finally answer you. He sits up, admiring the way you look, sitting here on top of the world.

“About a year ago, we all talked about the normal, everyday things you like to do. What we would like to do.”

“I remember,” you muse. “You guys were talking about what you’d do if you weren’t famous. Romanticizing the mediocre.”

“Right.” He slings his arms over the railing, looking out over the people enjoying their Saturday night. “You talked about how you always go to that night market to get tteok-bokki. You basically swore by that one stall, it was hilarious. But you looked so...I don’t know, I just remember thinking, I’ve never seen someone so happy about some cheap night market food. But it made me happy. And then you said that you like to grab your food and head out to the Han River. Enjoy the evening with some good food and a view.”

A slight breeze picks up, ruffling Taehyung’s hair. He hardly notices, wearing an adorable look of concentration as he continues. “And that just seemed...I don’t know, it became this thing for me. Those late nights at work or when we were away, I’d always stop and wonder if you’d gotten to do what made you so happy. But then, I realized that it wasn’t enough for me to just sit and wonder. I wanted to- I wanted...to be there with you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you catch sight of the faraway look in his eyes. How many times had he stopped and wondered if you had gotten to do something that made you happy? Sitting beside this man who is such a force for good, you find that you are entirely out of your element.

“So, whenever I had a chance in the evenings, I’d make up an excuse about picking up some more walnuts for Namjoon’s stash, and I’d head out. They told me to be back in an hour, hence the sixty minutes. But I’d take the train to the night market, go straight to that stall and pick up some tteok-bokki. I knew that I couldn’t just call you up and ask to go with you, and I was kind of selfish and didn’t want the other guys to come along. It was...I don’t know, I wanted it to be our thing. So I’d go there and hope I’d run into you. Make it look like an accident, so we could hang out. Just the two of us.” He laughs quietly to himself. “I sound like a stalker, don’t I?”

You only manage to shake your head, at a complete loss for words. Taehyung continues on, feeling the need to get it all out.

“In my mind, I thought that it would at least take you about fifteen or so minutes to get from the night market to the Han, so I’d run down to grab the walnuts and then head up here,” he gestures to the bridge. “And I’d look out and see if I could spot you. Maybe run down to meet you, pretending to bump into you. Give me...an excuse to see you.”

Taehyung glances over at you for a minute, looking a little embarrassed. You stare back, the shock evident on your face.

“Really?” It’s the only word you manage to get out. He smiles gingerly, huffing out a breath.

“Really. Does it creep you out?”

You snort, scooting over a little closer. Taehyung instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him.

“No.”

“No?”

Taking a deep breath, you take a leap. “Am I allowed to tell you that I sometimes wished I’d run into you?”

Taehyung tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with an indescribable emotion. “I don’t think you should.”

You frown. “Why not?”

The moon and the stars as your only witness, Taehyung gives you a long look before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. He lingers for a few seconds, his warm lips reminding you of spring after a bitter winter.

When he pulls away, he gazes down at you and you just know that he’s memorizing this moment. Tucking it away for a rainy day, similar to the rain clouds behind his eyes. “I’m scared of hoping.”

In the span of five syllables, he’s completely shattered your heart. It’s now that you recognize that look in his eyes.

How many nights has he sat up here, waiting for you to come along? Hoping that you’d bump into him at the night market, delighted to see him?

Hope can be just as devastating as it is uplifting.

Taehyung sees how you’re dying to reassure him, dying to just give your heart over to him at that moment. He knows it, sees how it could play out. But before you can open your mouth, he’s stopping you.

“For now, let’s just enjoy the view and try to stay warm,” he murmurs, pulling you impossibly closer. You rest your head against his shoulder, heart still aching from his small confession. “Don’t worry, jagiya. Just remember to have fun, ok? You’ve still got five dates, don’t forget that.”

How could you?

Time ticks by all too quickly as the two of you remain snuggled up together atop the bridge. Eventually you fall into a quiet conversation, Taehyung chatting happily about how he had a mini crisis on night when he came on this route and Namjoon complained about having not finished the walnuts from last night. He’d had to find some other sort of enticing treat that would act as a cover for him.

“When it comes down to it,” he says as the two of you enter the subway and find a seat. “I didn’t want the boys to find out, because I didn’t want them to think I was going behind their backs. They all deserve a chance, and me trying to find a way to bend the rules wouldn’t have gone over well.”

You marvel at how perfectly his hand fits in yours, sighing contentedly as the subway rumbles on. “You always have been a rule-breaker.”

You’re exhausted from having run all over Seoul, nearly falling asleep as you get back to Taehyung’s car. He grins at you, turning on the heater and beginning the drive back to your apartment. Your eyes struggle to remain open, slipping closed every few seconds.

“Sleep, jagiya,” Taehyung urges. “I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

“N-no,” you say between yawns. “I’m fine.”

Taehyung chuckles to himself when you fall asleep about thirty seconds later. The sound drifts into your dreams, where you dream of art museums and the Han river.

Needless to say, you’re a bit disappointed to be woken up from your beautiful dream when Taehyung opens up the passenger side door and crouches before you. He can’t help but laugh at how adorable you look, completely disoriented and staring at him like you can’t quite place where you’ve seen him before.

“Hey,” he whispers. “We’re home.”

Gently unbuckling your seatbelt, Taehyung helps you out of the car and only continues to laugh as you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your head in his chest.

“I’m so tired,” you groan. “I wanna go to bed.”

“Well, you can. You just have to unlock your door first, jagi.”

Somehow, in your half-asleep state you manage to fish your keys out of your bag. Taehyung helps you unlock the door, swooping in to help you when you nearly trip over your doorway.

“Woah, watch where you’re going,” he teases. Suddenly the world turns sideways as Tae places his hands under your knees and around your waist, literally sweeping you off your feet. “How about we get you to bed in one piece?”

Some small, semi-conscious part of your brain is currently screaming about how embarrassing yet attractive this entire situation is, but for the life of you, you can’t tell why. Instead, you opt to nuzzle in a little closer to Tae’s sweater as he uses his foot to kick the door shut.

“I love this sweater,” you mumble, eyes falling shut again. “You look so good in this sweater, did you know that?”

“Oh...thanks. And yes, that’s why I wore it.”

You hiss, swatting at his chest. “That was very narcissistic of you.”

“You’re too tired to walk, but you’re using words like narcissistic?” He shoots back. Making his way through the dark house, he enters your room and sets you down on the edge of the bed. You sit up straight, watching as his silhouette turns on your bedside lamp. Squinting at him, he crouches down before you, resting a light hand on your knee.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers back. “You need anything before I go?”

Always finding a way to push the limits, you smirk down at him. “Are kisses really off-limits- ow!” You rub your knee where he just flicked it, appalled at him as he straightens up.

“Don’t get greedy,” he teases with a raised brow. Heading out of the room, he turns back to look at you from the doorway. “Goodnight.”

It’s this moment that you memorize. The way the light from the lamp barely reaches him, his dark hair a little messy and a tired smile on his face. The way he leans up against your door, looking for all the world like he belongs here.

“Goodnight, Tae.”

Your ears strain to hear his footsteps, a fissure forming in your heart as you hear him closing the door and driving off into the night. Eventually, sleep takes over.

Even as you dream, the feeling of being wrapped up in Taehyung’s arms while sitting above the Han River lingers.

main masterlist

again, your opinion matters! especially in this series! if you’re comfortable with it, please please please comment or send me an ask with your thoughts! (i.e. chemistry, how this date differed from Hobi’s date, ect.) thank you for reading, and I’ll see you next Saturday with date #3!!

taglist is open, click on the link at the top of the post or let me know if you’d like to join!

taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797 @delacyrose224 @luvtaeha @fanfictionreader05 @mininimmy @dreadity @starlight-night0 @luzaroon @seaoffangirling @prachi05 @fangirl125reader @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall

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zaffrenotes · 3 years ago

Text

[TRR] Kairos

Kairos - Part 14

Pairing: Liam x OC Series Rating/Warnings: 18+; language; series will include ns*w 🍋 scenes Chapter Rating/Warnings: G Author’s Note: * All main characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them * Kairos (καιρός) is a word in Greek that translates to “the right time” or “the right moment to act” * Liam’s wife asks about “the one that got away” one night over dinner, and Liam recounts a relationship from his past * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles Prompt 101: Were you ever going to tell me? * Author’s Note 2: * a very late, hastily proofread update thanks to early neighborhood fireworks and turning myself into an emotional support human to my dog (who hates loud noises) * Word Count: 1377 (5 minutes reading time)

Catch up with previous chapters here

“London?!” Max exclaimed. “We were there for Fashion Week! Is that why you switched your assignment to go with me?”

“Yes,” Benigno replied. “I could have used personal leave to travel there on my own, but the timing worked out in my favor and accompanying you was less conspicuous.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Tears had begun to form in Max’s eyes, upon realizing she’d been in the same city as her sister.

“With respect to you Miss, no.” Benigno looked over to see Max’s chin quiver as she fought the urge to break down in front of Liam. “First I needed to see with my own eyes if it was really her, and when I saw her…she asked me to keep her whereabouts a secret, Miss Max.” He glanced over to Liam before turning to face Max again, frowning at his confession. “I’m only telling you now because you’ve put pieces together, and it’s clear King Liam cares about Miss Elia, or he wouldn’t have asked about her after all this time.”

“How were you able to track her down?” Liam inquired.

Benigno gave him a small shrug before answering. “It’s better not to know the details, but I called in a few favors.” He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small silver case, opening it to pull free a blank ivory card, before slipping the case back into his pocket. “May I?” he asked, reaching forward for one of the pens on the table. Liam nodded and Benigno wrote something on the back of the card; he leaned forward when he was done and returned the pen to the table, then stretched his hand forward, presenting the card to Liam. “If she’s still in London, this was her last known address from when I saw her.”

Liam glanced down at the address before tucking it into his pants pocket, nodding with solemn appreciation. “Thank you, Mr. Santos.” He looked over to see the eager expression on Max’s face. “I know by all accounts this ought to be handled by family, but it would raise suspicions if you weren’t present with the other suitors for all of the events.” The corners of Max’s lips turned down in a pout, though she nodded in agreement. “I’ll have to look at the schedule of events to see when I could slip away unnoticed, but I thank you both for your help tonight. You have no idea how much this means to me, to even have this small bit of information.”

A muted beam of sunlight filtered through the wispy curtains, and Liam stretched his arms above his head before rolling on his side to shut off the chirping melody from the alarm on his phone. After a cursory glance at the notifications that rolled in overnight, he placed a call to room service to order breakfast and took a shower. Once he’d eaten and dressed, he left the hotel and took to the streets of London, in search of the first woman who captured his heart.

Nearly an hour later, Liam stood across the street from a row of houses. He checked the pinned location on the map on his phone, breathing deeply to calm his nerves. With only a few feet separating him from his past and possible future, he slipped the phone into his pocket and crossed the street, making his way to the front door. His heart fluttered at the sight of the knocker on the door, in the shape of a brass peacock. Taking the ring in hand, he knocked it against the plate secured to the door and waited for someone inside to answer.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when the door opened, but seeing an older woman with greying hair and tortoiseshell spectacles was not on his list. She cracked the door open just wide enough to block the entry, wary of the unscheduled visitor standing on the doorstep. “May I help you?” she asked, eyeing Liam cautiously.

“Forgive the intrusion,” Liam replied. “My name is Liam Rys, and I’m looking for Miss Young. I was told she lives here.”

“She does…I’m Mrs. George, the caretaker. Do you have an appointment?”

“No ma’am. I’m a rather old friend of hers and I’m only in town for a day between business meetings. I was hoping to say hello, possibly catch up over lunch if she’s free.”

Mrs. George set her lips in a tense, dubious line. “I’m afraid the lady of the house isn’t here at the moment, and unscheduled visitors aren’t allowed in.” She craned her neck out towards Liam. “And if you’re truly a friend of Miss Young, you’d know how much she dislikes surprise guests.”

Liam sighed, his shoulders slumping in tandem as he exhaled. “Mrs. George, this may be the only opportunity I have to speak with her for the foreseeable future. I’m not certain when I’ll be able to travel to London again, or whether she’ll be here when that time comes.”

Mrs. George scrutinized Liam’s face, then let out the tiniest gasp as she straightened her posture in the doorway. “When did you see her last?”

“It’s been three, nearly four years, give or take a few weeks.”

Mrs. George continued to study Liam’s face for a moment, then nodded to herself. “I’m not at liberty to disclose her precise location, but Miss Young spends most mornings walking through Holland Park. You’ll likely find her there at this time of day.”

Liam’s face lit up with renewed hope, and he stepped forward, shaking hands with the kind woman. “Thank you, ma’am.” He turned and walked down the short path to the gate, waving to Mrs. George as she watched him from the front window. He wondered what could have prompted her to disclose even such a general location for Elia, perhaps unaware that she’d been living under the fake name Benigno had used on the passport given to her all those years ago.

It didn’t take Liam very long to reach one edge of Holland Park, though he had no idea where to start looking for Elia. With another deep breath to calm his nerves, he decided to begin his search by walking the perimeter and slowly working his way inwards, in hopes of crossing paths with Elia.

Forty minutes and countless steps later, the only thing Liam found was a thin sheen or perspiration across his brow as he balanced walking with purpose and blending in with others meandering through the park. He was strolling along one of the paths past a playground, when he heard the familiar screeching birdcall of a peacock; he laughed to himself, recalling the reserve on Kos and the trips he’d taken there with Elia.

Liam thought he might’ve been foolish to think he could find Elia in less than a day, when she’d spent nearly two years completely under the radar. She’d taken a risk in sending money to Benigno, and she’d trusted him more than anyone to keep her secret. She’d never bothered to reach out to Liam, even before he’d gotten married; he began to doubt whether she’d even want to see him now.

He was so lost in thought that he nearly collided with a small child pointing at a peacock a few yards away. “Mama, mama! Pfau! Pfau!” Liam dodged the little boy speaking German that stopped in the middle of the path to point. He smiled as he looked down to see the boy’s excited face, then froze in shock.

“Billy! Slow down, sweetheart!”

Liam’s heart seemed to stop, hearing Billy’s mother call out behind him. He knew that voice. Throat suddenly dry, he forced a cough and dared to turn around, eyes trained on the ground, too nervous to look the mother in the eye right away. She had on a pair of nondescript black leather ballet flats, black dress pants, and a cranberry cashmere sweater set. Her obsidian hair was swept up in a purposefully messy updo. She was just as beautiful as he remembered. When he caught her eye, he grinned softly at her, and her jaw slackened enough to let her mouth fall into a perfect O.

“Liam? Is that you?”

#the royal romance fanfic #trr fanfic #choices trr fanfic #choices trr au #the royal romance au #the royal romance fanfiction #trr fanfiction #trr au #trr liam x oc #trr king liam x oc #wacky drabbles #wacky drabbles prompt #zaffrenotes writes

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morganaspendragonss · 4 years ago

Note

First off I just want to say that I LOVE all of your Owen and TK fics. Prompt: I would love for TK to end up like really sick(fever,vomiting, dizzy spells) and try to hide it from everyone but then for him to get worse and it turn out to be appendicitis and Owen being super worried and protective of him throughout the whole ordeal. Once again I think that you are an amazing writer!!

thank you for the prompt and your lovely message! i’m so sorry for the long wait, but i hope you like what i came up with!

@911lonestarangstweek day 4: Sickfic + “You need to rest.”

ao3 | 2.2k

“Are you okay, son?”

Owen frowns over at TK, sitting across from him at the dinner table. He keeps his voice low to avoid catching the attention of the rest of the team; TK would probably kill him for ‘causing a scene’, and then Owen would never get to the bottom of what’s going on.

And something is, that he’s sure of. Whilst the others are all wolfing down the pasta dish Paul cooked up, back-to-back calls leading to near starvation, as Mateo put it, TK has barely touched his food, electing to simply push it around the plate. He’s quiet too, not joining in on the conversations going round the table, and he’s been looking off all day. That Owen has seen, anyway, and he’s also caught Tommy sending worried glances in TK’s direction multiple times. If it weren’t for the knowledge that TK would likely bite the offending hand off, Owen would definitely reach over to check his temperature; his skin is noticeably flushed and there’s a light sheen of sweat on his brow.

TK doesn’t appear to hear his question, continuing to ineffectually stab at pasta shapes, so Owen leans closer, daring to wave a hand in his face.

TK blinks in surprise. “What?”

“I said, are you okay? You look sick.”

He rolls his eyes, looking back down at his plate. “I’m fine.”

Owen raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, for starters, you haven’t eaten anything,” Owen says, pointedly staring at him, letting him know his charade hasn’t gone unnoticed.

TK huffs and sets his fork down, pushing the plate away. “I’m not hungry.”

Bullshit.

“Since when are you not hungry?”

“Since now, Dad!” TK snaps, glaring at Owen. He flushes and drops his eyes when his outburst earns him several raised eyebrows, but he still doesn’t give in, instead grumbling another, “I’m fine.”

The thing is, Owen knows that TK probably thinks he is fine. TK’s always had a tendency to downplay his own illnesses and injuries, to the point where he’s even doing it to himself, which has resulted in more ER visits and emergency doctors’ appointments than Owen cares to remember.

So, much as he would love to believe his son, all the evidence points to him being very much not okay. Owen’s about two seconds away from calling Tommy over when TK’s face changes, his breathing suddenly becoming very carefully measured.

“Son?” he asks, reaching across the table to lay a hand on TK’s arm. The second he makes contact, however, TK violently shoves away from the table, chair legs scraping noisily on the linoleum.

“Bathroom,” is all the explanation he gives before rushing off, very obviously unsteady on his feet.

Owen watches him go, torn between wanting to follow and wanting to give TK the chance to admit defeat himself. He’s worried, but he knows that if he keeps pushing, then TK’s just going to be even more stubborn about it. He sighs and shakes his head, returning back to his meal, TK’s untouched plate mocking him in his periphery.

But when ten minutes have passed and TK still hasn’t reappeared, Owen feels a sick sense of dread start to creep in. There’s no reason for him to have been gone this long unless something is seriously wrong, and Owen’s not about to wait any longer to find out what.

He stands up, glancing pensively up the staircase before heading up there himself, trying to stave off all the worst case scenarios flitting through his mind. Maybe TK just went to lie down for a bit? It’s possible, though Owen knows it’s more than likely not the case. That would be too simple.

His fears are confirmed when he turns the corner leading to the bathroom. TK is hunched over in the doorway, white-knuckled grip on the frame, the other arm wrapped around his abdomen. He’s staring sightlessly into the middle distance, apparently not even noticing Owen as he approaches, and Owen can hear how heavy his breathing is from across the room.

“TK?” he calls, worry only spiking when TK gives no indication of having heard him. This is bad; Owen runs to the balcony, thanking god that Tommy is still down there with the rest of the team. “Captain Vega!” he calls. “A little help up here?”

Tommy’s instantly moving, clearly picking up on the urgency in his tone, and Owen spares a single moment of relief. Unfortunately, it’s short-lived; when he turns back around, time seems to slow as he watches TK’s grip on the doorframe loosen, his feet shuffling forward tentatively before letting go altogether.

TK stays upright for barely a second before he crumples to the floor, collapsing in an undignified heap. Owen breaks into a run, reaching TK just as he’s trying to push himself back up. He doesn’t seem to have lost consciousness, which Owen is thankful for, and he’s a little more lucid now, but he’s turned incredibly pale and there are tight lines of pain around his eyes.

“TK, what’s going on?” he demands, keeping a hand firmly on his son’s shoulders to keep him on the floor. “And don’t give me any of that ‘I’m fine’ crap; I just saw you collapse, so you’re going to have to do better than that.”

TK groans, the effort it takes for his gaze to focus on Owen seemingly Herculean. “Thought it was just a stomach bug,” he mutters. “That’s why I didn’t say anything. Then I got this really bad pain”—he waves a hand over his abdomen—“and I had to come up here to be sick. When I tried to come back down I got really dizzy - my vision blurred, there was this really loud ringing in my ears - I guess you saw all that.

“The blurriness has gone now but the pain is still there, so I’m thinking it’s probably -”

“Your appendix.” Tommy’s voice cuts through TK’s, and Owen looks up to see her heading towards them, medical bag in hand. She tuts as she kneels next to them, shaking her head ruefully. “Really, Strand? Hiding something like this on the job?”

“In my defence, Cap,” TK says, something like a smile on his lips, “I really didn’t know until just now. I was only a little feverish before, so I thought it was nothing.”

“Until it wasn’t,” she admonishes, but there’s an undercurrent of fondness to her tone. She presses down on TK’s abdomen and he hisses in pain, Tommy’s face growing serious. “TK, did you have any pain before what happened just now?”

“A little,” he admits. “But then it went away so I forgot about it.”

Tommy curses. Owen glances over at her anxiously, not liking the worried expression on her face. “What is it?”

She looks at him grimly, rising to her feet and heading for the stairs. “I can’t be certain, but it means his appendix might have already burst. Check his pulse.”

Owen does, feeling a little sick himself as the implications of Tommy’s words sink in. TK’s pulse is fast which, judging by the less-than-happy expression on her face when Owen reports it, isn’t a good sign.

“He needs to get to the hospital, now.”

Owen’s foot taps out a repetitive rhythm on the waiting room floor, earning him several reproachful looks from hospital staff and other visitors. He pays them no mind, though; it’s been ages since TK was wheeled away for testing and surgery, and his patience is stretched thin.

He knows it’ll be fine, logically. Appendectomies usually are, though there’s the added complication of TK’s appendix maybe having already burst, because apparently they can’t have any good luck for a change.

It’s just… It never gets any easier, seeing his son in the hospital. Even if it’s just for something as simple as a broken bone, of which there have been a few over the years. But, as Owen is reminded when he hears the hurried sound of feet coming towards him, he doesn’t have to do this alone anymore.

He stands as Carlos reaches him, his eyes wide and worried - perhaps more so than the situation warrants, but Owen’s not about to judge him for that.

“What happened?” Carlos asks, not giving Owen a moment to respond before rushing ahead. “He looked a little flushed this morning but he told me he was fine and I believed him. I’m sorry, Captain Strand, I should have pushed more -”

“Carlos.” Owen holds up a hand, laughing a little. “Take a breath, son. And, how many times, call me Owen.”

Carlos flushes, breathing out shakily before slumping into a chair by Owen’s side. “Right,” he mutters. “Sorry. How is he, though?”

Owen eases himself back down into his seat, his knees cracking noisily in protest. He sighs. “He’ll be okay. I’m still waiting on the doctor to come out and tell me more, but he was admitted a while ago, so hopefully that’ll happen soon.”

Carlos nods, leaning his head in his hands. Owen watches him with a faint smile on his face; he’s always known how much TK and Carlos care for each other, but seeing it first-hand just reaffirms the knowledge. It’s all he’s ever wanted for his son - someone who loves him just as much as he loves them.

“You know,” he starts, “you’re the first boyfriend TK’s ever had who’ll willingly come and wait at the hospital for hours. I appreciate you being here.”

Carlos stares at him, uncomprehending. “I… I’m the first?”

Owen nods; Carlos shakes his head in disbelief. It’s strangely heartwarming, this display of indignation on his son’s behalf, and Owen couldn’t be more grateful for Carlos’s presence. He goes to say something else, but then they’re interrupted by the arrival of a doctor, smiling reassuringly at them.

“Mr Strand,” he greets, raising a questioning eyebrow at Carlos. “And…”

“This is Carlos Reyes, TK’s partner.”

“Ah.” The doctor nods, looking back down at his clipboard. “The good news is, the surgery went well. We’re getting him set up in a room now; I’ll take you to see him in a moment.”

“Is there bad news?” Carlos asks nervously, having clearly picked up on the same thing Owen had.

The doctor grimaces. “Unfortunately, his appendix burst before he arrived, so there is a significant risk of infection. We’ve put him on a course of antibiotics and he’ll have to remain here for at least the next week to make sure there are no unexpected complications.”

“He’s gonna love that,” Carlos jokes, and even Owen has to smile, knowing just how right Carlos is. He’s still worried, and the doctor’s news has only increased that, but it’s easier, having someone else with him who’s just as worried.

They’re soon taken to TK’s room, Owen letting out a sigh of relief as he sees him awake, though his expression is tight with pain. He’s beyond proud of TK for how far he’s come in his recovery, and Owen knows that this is what he needs to do, but it’s not any easier to see his kid hurting.

“How are you feeling, son?” he asks, taking a seat next to the bed. Carlos dithers for a moment before TK sends him a look, and he settles himself gingerly on the edge of the bed, almost absent-mindedly taking TK’s hands in his own.

“Like crap,” TK answers, apparently too tired for his usual ‘I’m fine’ routine. “Could be worse, though.”

Owen hums in agreement; that, at least, can’t be denied. It’s difficult to top getting shot and spending days in a coma.

They talk for a little while, but then TK starts yawning and his eyelids begin to droop, despite his very obvious effort to keep them open. Owen laughs at him, shaking his head fondly.

“Alright, son, we get the message,” he jokes. “I’m leaving.”

“No, it’s okay -”

“TK,” Owen interrupts. “You need to rest. I’ll come back and check on you tomorrow.”

TK huffs, but he’s clearly too exhausted to protest any further, letting Owen place a kiss on his brow as he stands. Carlos moves to join him, but TK draws the line there, clinging on tight to his hands.

“I…” Carlos sends a helpless look to Owen, but he just shakes his head.

“I wouldn’t argue, Carlos,” he says. “I’m sure you know as well as I do how clingy TK gets when he’s sick.”

“Do not,” TK mumbles, but it’s offset by the way he’s currently attempting - incredibly unsuccessfully - to pull Carlos down next to him.

Carlos huffs a laugh at that. “Sure you don’t, love.”

TK swats clumsily at him, and Owen can’t help but smile at their interaction. It’s clear they’ve all but forgotten his presence, so he starts to creep towards the door, only to stop and look back when he gets there.

“TK?” he says sternly, drawing their attention. “Remember - rest.”

TK rolls his eyes and Carlos flushes darkly, attempting to stammer out a response. Owen takes pity on him and walks away, grinning to himself. Not too long ago, he wouldn’t have dreamt of leaving TK after major surgery, but things are so different now.

Owen knows TK has all he needs already with him. And that is the most important thing.

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 4 years ago

Text

The Next One’s on You 5/5

A/N: This is it my loves, the end of our tale. Thank you so much for supporting my small idea and coming back each time to read more. I have loved reading every single comment and it means the world to me that you loved this story as much as I have. Thank you.

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F! Reader

Warning: 18 + for language, violence - assault, attempted murder. Mention of abortion.

Taglist: @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @mrsparknuts @ghostwiththemostbitch @zannemes @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @maxlordsgf

My Masterlist

Chapter 5: Decaf Coffee

You jump at the sound of knuckles rasping sharply on the back door. No one would be knocking at the back door if they were customers. Which left you with only a few choices; your family, Giselle, or…. You slowly rise. Feet chilled against the tiled floor, as you walk closer to the door. The knocking gets more insistent as you get closer. Hand shaking you reach toward the handle and flick the lock, pulling the door open slowly. Heart pounding so hard you worry it’s going to jump out of your chest.

The alley is dark and…empty. Your heart sinks and you can faintly hear footsteps walking back toward the street. A muffled curse from far away and you clear your throat and let out a hoarse “hello?” The footsteps stop and then come pounding back on the pavement toward you. Louder and louder until a figure appears in the dark and stands in the shadows watching you. “Who are you?” you ask exhaustedly.

He steps into the light and your breath catches in your throat before your heart turns cold. “What the fuck do you want?” you hiss, lips turning down, and defenses rising.

“I come with a message for you,” Tom steps out of the shadow, “Mrs. Lord sent me this for you,” he hands out a check and you step further into the shop moving to slam the door.

“Why would that devil woman want to give me money?!”

His hand shoots out to grab the door as you move to close it and he wedges a foot to keep it ajar. “Just fucking listen to me you bitch,” he grunts as you try to shut the door. But it’s to not avail he shoves the door open and stands their panting.

“What else?! What else could she possibly want with me? She took the love of my life away, ruined our wedding, and slandered my name in front of hundreds of people!” you shout angry tears pooling in your eyes. “If she thinks she can pay me off and I will go away quietly, she is fucking crazier than I thought she is!”

“She’s wants you to get an abortion! She paid all of those people to lie for her, this shouldn’t really come as a shock. You're just the last loose end she needs tied up. Can’t have you walking around with a kid that looks just like her son.”

The blood rushes from your face and you feel cold. The audacity of this woman is unreal. You quietly reach for the outstretch check and the air from the door wafts inside chilling you to the bone. You rip it in half then again and again until the pieces fall like confetti onto the ground. You look Tom in the eyes and sigh, “You can tell her I said to fuck off.”

You’re so exhausted from today and you turn from the door. Tom doesn’t leave but instead walks into the room, you can feel him behind you as you lean down and reach for your shoes. You turn around suddenly when you hear a loud grunt and Tom falls to the floor hard, Maxwell is beating the shit out of him. His knuckles turning bloody as he lands blow after blow on Tom’s face. “Maxwell!” you scream stepping closer and in the corner of your eye you see the gun on the floor.

Fuck. Tom was going to… You grab the gun and point it towards Tom as Maxwell goes feral. “Maxwell,” you gasp as Tom loses consciousness, but he doesn’t stop, landing blow after blow. You drop to your knees next to him and place a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “Maxwell, baby, you got him.” He stills under your touch breathing heavy, a sheen of sweat upon his brow. His eyes wild, one of them blackened as he turns to you.

It’s like the whole day was some awful nightmare as he runs his hands and eyes all over your body, checking for any injury. “Are you ok?” he pants pulling you into his chest.

His arms feel like the home you were so sure to have lost today and you nod. You’re tears sinking into the lapels of his jacket. “What the?” a voice asks behind you and you turn in his arms to see your father standing there looking down on the scene.

“He was going to kill her,” Maxwell’s arms tighten around you, “I heard everything…he confessed to all of it. My mother paid this fucker to kill her. He was...he was…” Maxwell tightened his grip around you to the point of discomfort, but you didn’t dare let him go.

“Watch her, I’m going to go call the police,” your father took off towards the desk in the back corner and his voice muffled as he pressed the phone between his cheek and shoulder and spoke quickly into the receiver.

“I’m sorry,” you heard Maxwell cry against your neck, “I’m so fucking sorry. I let all those people…I let her get in my head and when she brought up the baby…I…I’m so sorry.” His tears soaked the fabric of your dress as he sobbed into your neck.

You pulled away and held his cheeks, brushing away his tears, “I can’t forgive you right now,” your voice cracked on the end, “but we will talk about this. You don’t get to just walk away from me and get away with it.” He nods through blurry eyes, taking in your features.

“I can do that….I know…I know I hurt you and I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, but I have to know, do you still love me?” The CEO behind the infomercials, the money, the press is standing before you as nothing more than a man. His insecurities shining through and blinding you. You tremble in his arms.

“You’re an idiot…” he hangs his head, “Of course I still love you. It will take a lot more than your psycho mother to take me away from you.”

His head snaps up, he surges forward and kisses you deeply holding your cheeks like they're made of precious glass. Breaking away as the sounds of sirens blare out around you, he puts his forehead against your own, “I love you, so much. I promise no one will ever take me away from you again.”

The police come barreling through the door and arrest Tom. The EMT takes you out to the ambulance and checks over your blood pressure, heart rate, and for any signs of shock. Your father stays with you while the officer takes down Maxwell’s statement, another officer taking down yours. When they leave you an EMT wraps Maxwell’s hands up and tells him to follow up with his physician.

“Did he tell you what happened?” your father asks holding you against his chest, a warm arm around you. You shake your head no and he sighs, “Well I won’t reveal too much but…I did get a good punch in on the son of a bitch.” You gasp and look up at him.

“You punched him in the face?” He smiles and nods.

“You bet your ass I did and I would do it again in a heartbeat, he hurt my little girl. No one hurts my little girl, that Tom’s a lucky bastard that I didn’t get to him first or else they would be loading him into a body bag and not an ambulance.”

You look at your father with wide eyes and go to ask, but Maxwell comes over interrupting the moment. “They said we are free to go, they need us to come down to the station in the next few days and write out our statements.”

“Sounds like a plan,” your dad turns to you, “Do you want to come back to the hotel with your mother and I?”

You look over and Maxwell who is watching you with apprehension, shaking your head no. “No, I want to go home with Maxwell. We need to talk, I don’t want to go to sleep with everything that happened today hanging over us.”

“Ok honey,” he pulls you close for another hug before glaring at Maxwell, “take care of my daughter,” he warns and Maxwell nods reaching for your hand.

You let him take it as you both watch your dad walk off. “Let’s go home,” he pulls you toward the black town car idling on the sidewalk. Opening the door himself and sliding in beside you. Jeeves looks at you and smiles before pulling away from the curb and heading home. The press are at the gates and luckily the windows are tinted and you can get safe into the house.

No one greets you when you get to the house and you feel relieved. Maxwell leads you both to the kitchen and you sit at the table in the corner. The table that held so many memories for you both and he puts on a pot of coffee. Silent as he moves around the kitchen and pulls out a plate wrapped with sandwiches. He brings both over to the table and you push the coffee away reaching for the sandwich and taking a tentative bite.

“It’s decaf,” he pushes the cup toward you again, “I remember reading once caffeine isn’t good for pregnant women.” Enveloping his own cup with his hands and lowering his gaze to the table.

You reach for the cup and feel it warm you up as you watch him. He’s putting himself through hell. His head bent down and shoulders sagged, he has the look of a man defeated, and that is not the Maxwell Lord you know. “Maxwell,” you sigh reaching for his hand, “what happened after I left?”

He clasps both hands around yours and strokes patterns over the skin. “After you...left,” he swallows, “everything fell apart. People who were silent before stepped forward saying my mother had tried to bribe them and that they told her no. I confronted her and she cracked admitting nothing aloud but everything in her eyes. When I went to leave to follow you, your father decked me in the face and told me I had better fix everything. He told me that a blind man could see how much you loved me. We left together and Jeeves refused to tell us where he took you.”

“Why?”

“When I ordered him too, he snapped at me and asked if I hadn’t already done enough. Wouldn’t even tell your father. You have more people that support and love you then you think.”

He gets very quiet and looks down again, “I failed you, baby.”

He gets up and paces around the kitchen and you watch him, letting him sort out his emotions. He moves toward the fridge and pulls out a paper cup like one from the coffee shop, bringing it over to the table and placing it in front of you.

“What’s this?” you move to grab it and open it seeing a creamy white liquid, smelling sickly sweet. “Is this...is this a latte?”

He nods, “I bought it after I left the church and I carried it around for hours while I searched for you. I...I know you can’t forgive me right now because the way I treated you today was...fucked up. But, maybe we can start over. Do you remember how we met?”

Tears swell in your eyes and your voice cracks, “You were a complete asshole...and I threw a latte in your face.” He gives you a watery chuckle.

“Well I have been a complete and total moron again, and I think I deserve a lot more than a latte thrown in my face but…”

You take the cup in your hand and open it, getting up and walking over to the sink and pouring it down the drain. Turning to him, “I forgive you. I love you. And if you ever pull some shit like that again, we are gone.” He walks over to you and drops to his knees before you. Reaching forward and tracing his hands over your barely visible bump raising your shirt, and placing his lips on your bare skin.

“I will never let anyone ever hurt you again, especially me.” He looks up into your eyes and you fall to your knees before him getting swept into his arms.

“You promise?” your voice trembles.

“I promise.”

Would you be interested in me continuing this series?

I think they need a redo wedding, maybe some pregnancy fluff, baby stuff?

Let me know and thanks for reading.

#maxwell lord #Maxwell Lord x reader #female reader #Pedro Pascal #Wonder Woman #Wonder Woman 1984 #ww84 #The next ones on you series #Autumn Writes

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thishintoflove · 4 years ago

Text

“This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things” - A WW84 Fanfic

TSwift Songfic Week Day 4

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F!Reader

Warnings: 18 + Explicit (Language, possessive behavior, P/V sex, unprotected sex, slight boss/employee relationship (reader is a hired caterer), elements of sex pollen because the dreamstone messes with Max)

Summary: After Max secures the stone, he throws a party to celebrate. He also chooses you to help him test it out.

A/N: I’m not even a Max Lord stan but something about the way the dreamstone slowly fucks him up over the course of the movie really does it for me. Also this isn't a popular t-swift song but I happen to really like it and I think it fits??

It was so nice throwing big parties

Jump into the pool from the balcony

Everyone swimming in a champagne sea

“So are you one of Max Lord’s foreign associates or are you just another pretty face for the party?”

The man in the tuxedo slumped towards you and you had to jump back to avoid getting champagne on your dress as he tipped his glass.

“I’m here to work,” you said through clenched teeth. This wasn’t the first drunk guest to proposition you while you were working, but Maxwell Lord’s parties seemed to attract the worst of them all. You turned on your heel and walked away before the man could make a real pass at you. Maybe he’d fall in the pool later-- he was certainly drunk enough for it to happen. Incidents like that were the highlight of your weekend.

You smoothed your navy dress as you stepped off the patio and back into the house. You weren’t a guest, but as the owner of the catering company working this function, you felt you had to dress with the crowd so that you could blend in while you kept everything running smoothly.

When Maxwell Lord first hit the DC scene, he'd been a boon for your company. You catered a few of his first parties, mostly after his big commercial aired and his name was growing. They were huge, outlandish affairs but it allowed you to bring on more staff and test out new recipes. But the gaps between parties had grown longer and longer recently, and you’d wondered if he’d switched to a rival catering company. But there was no gossip about it in the service industry rumor mill, so you assumed the man was just cutting back on his party habits.

It had been at least six months since you’d seen him, but now you were back in his large home managing yet another one of his wild events. The music was particularly loud and the crowd particularly large tonight.

And there are no rules when you show up here

Bass beat rattling the chandelier

Feeling so Gatsby for that whole year

The man himself caught your eye when he started waving in your direction from the kitchen door.

“Darling, may I speak with you a moment,” he called in that faux host voice of his. He was standing with another tall man in a tuxedo, this one with glasses and slicked-back white hair.

You smoothed your dress and approached the pair. When you were close enough, Maxwell grinned and placed a large hand on the small of your back, “This is DC’s finest caterer! She’s the genius behind those delicious spinach puffs you were just raving about.”

“Is that so?” the man replied quietly, eyeing you up and down. You tried to give the rude man a disapproving glare but Max seemed to notice it too. You felt his hand clench where it rested on your back.

“Yes, she’s quite the specimen, but I’m afraid I have to pull her away for something. Do you have a moment, my dear?”

“Of course, Mr. Lord,” you reply, pointedly ignoring the other man, “Let’s step into the kitchen.”

He followed you through the busy kitchen that he probably never used himself, until you found a quiet spot in the back near the pantry. You turned to look at him, quirking a brow and waiting for him to speak first.

“How do you think it’s going tonight?” he asked, his soft brown eyes suddenly revealing his vulnerability.

“It’s going quite well from my perspective,” you replied, curious as to why he interrupted his celebration for this, “The trays have been evenly spaced, we have plenty of hors d'oeuvres and alcohol left, and no one’s thrown up yet. I’d call it a success.”

“Good, good. So do you think you could take a short break?”

He ran a hand down your back again but this time he reached further, only stopping when he reached your ass to give it a firm squeeze.

Yes, you’d slept together once after one of the earlier parties you’d catered for him. You didn’t make it a habit of sleeping with clients, but the party was over, your staff had finished cleaning up, and he’d looked so lonely standing there by himself in the foyer of his large home. He’d asked if you wanted to stay for a drink and there was something soft in his eyes that told you he wasn’t the leering type, he just wanted some companionship. So you’d stayed, and after a couple glasses of wine you’d given into him easily.

The sex was great but you didn’t spend the night, both of you understanding that this was a one time deal. You’d catered one more party for him after that, but then he’d never called you again. Until now.

“I want to show you something,” he continued, grabbing your attention again. His eyes bore into yours. You couldn’t help it. Maxwell Lord intrigued you.

“Lead the way,” you replied.

This is why we can't have nice things, darling

Because you break them, I had to take them away

You could feel the base vibrating through the floor as you followed him upstairs, down the hall, and into what you assumed was his private bedroom. If this whole thing was just a request for sex, you were confused as to why it couldn’t wait until after the party.

“Mr. Lord, you have a house full of guests downstairs, is this really the best time to-”

“Yes it is. I have a proposition for you and I can’t wait anymore.”

He led you over to the end of the bed and gestured for you to sit down. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely confused, but you followed his direction out of pure curiosity. He sat beside you and angled his body so he could meet your eyes head on.

“I’ve recently found myself on the receiving end of some very good fortune. Let’s just say I’m about to become a very powerful man. By tomorrow, Black Gold Cooperative stock will be through the roof. And there’s so much more that I plan to do.”

You hesitated as you studied his face. His eyes sparkled with excitement but you didn’t really understand what he was saying. “Congratulations? Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I trust you.”

“You barely know me,” you replied, surprise coloring your tone, “I’ve catered a few of your events and we had sex once, but I hardly think that’s enough to establish a real foundation of trust-”

“Hush,” Max said, quieting you by placing one large finger against your lips, “I trust you because you’ve never lied to me. You’ve always treated me fairly. And right now, I need someone who isn’t going to yell at me or tell me exactly what I want to hear.”

“Ok-ay?”

“You’ve treated me well, so now I want to offer you something in return,” he continued, “I will grant you one wish. One wish for anything in the world. You can have anything you want, and in return I can make sure that the power truly works.”

You frowned. “Are you high right now? Did you take something downstairs?”

His words didn’t make any sense. Wishes? Powers?

“No! No, I didn’t,” he responded, running a hand through his hair in agitation. He sighed but then he reached for both of your hands and held them in his own. “Just believe me, I’ll prove it to you. Wish for something.”

His grip was strong but you didn’t feel threatened, just confused and maybe a small sense of pity. You figured there was no harm indulging him once, and then you could leave.

“Fine. I wish I had a Motorola DynaTAC. It’d be great for business but I could never afford one.”

Max grinned at you, “Your wish is granted.”

He leaned forward and pulled your joined hands closer as his body curled up. You were about to pull your hands away when he groaned, low and long. It sounded like pleasure turning into pain. You felt him shake and then a light breeze blew through the room, ruffling your hair. Strange. The window wasn’t open and there was no fan in the room.

“Max? What was that?” you asked slowly, glancing around the room. “Wait, are you okay?”

He was still doubled over, breathing heavily. When he heard you speak, he glanced back up and caught your eye with the wildest look you’d ever seen. His hair had fallen across his forehead and he had a sheen of sweat on his skin. But what shocked you the most was the flash of gold you saw in his eyes. You lifted a hand without thinking and brought it to his face, resting it against his cheek as you searched for the gold again, but it was already fading. Then Max shut his eyes and leaned into your palm, releasing a long sigh.

“What was that?” you asked again, softer this time.

“That… was your wish being granted.”

You looked where he pointed and your mouth dropped open when you saw the world’s first cell phone sitting beside you on the bed.

“This is real? How did you-”

You were cut off by Max’s lips crashing into yours. He grasped the back of your head and pulled you close, devouring your mouth. You moaned in surprise but then immediately gripped his shoulders to gain more leverage. You shifted against him so you were almost in his lap, and you quickly noticed how hard he was. You pulled back for a moment, your lips separating with a pop, and he gazed at you with a delirious expression.

“So you actually have powers. You can grant anybody’s wish?”

“It seems so, yes.”

You hummed. Whatever just happened… this wish granting. It seemed to physically affect Max in a big way. Your curiosity piqued again. “What does it feel like?” you asked, “Tell me. I want to know.”

He smirked and one of his hands tightened its grasp on your hip while the other held the back of your neck.

“Well, when the magic first washes over me… when the words ‘I wish’ fall from your lips… it feels, orgasmic,” he growled, leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “I can feel the power coursing through my veins, like hot fire running out from my spine to every nerve ending in my body.”

He shuddered as he said this, as if the mere thought of it caused his body to react, “It feels… uncontrollable-- as if a pleasure is being ripped from your body after you’re already over-sensitive. And I feel the power leave and spread. Then there’s a hint of pain at the back of my head, but it’s worth it.”

His words sent a rush of heat to your core. There’s something about the unpredictable mix of power and lack of control that has you growing wet as he speaks. You move so that you’re fully seated in his lap and you immediately get to work on the buttons of his dress pants.

“It sounds remarkable,” you mumbled, feeling drunk on secondhand power. You finally managed to release his cock and gave it a few pumps while he groaned.

“It is. I can feel the power coursing through me. The Dreamstone wants to be used. It urges me. I want more. I need more.” he groaned, grinding against you.

“I’m more. You can have me right now,” you heard yourself moan.

Max chuckled darkly and used both hands to drag your dress up your body and over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. “Yes, I think I will.”

You gasped as two thick fingers plunged into you without warning. Max hummed, “So fucking wet already. Were you waiting for this, darling?“ He slowly pumped into you, drawing several gasps and moans as he hooked his fingers deep inside. Your hips ground against his hand, aching for more.

“Yes, please fuck me!!”

He growled and removed his hand, only to grasp his own cock and run it against your slick folds. You groaned when he finally pushed in, shuddering at the slight burning sensation of being filled so completely. Max pushed deeper until he was completely seated inside you, but then he stopped, holding you on his lap and letting you warm his cock. His head fell to your shoulder as you wiggled your hips, ready for him to move.

“Come on, Max,” you whined, feeling your muscles clench around his solid length. You thought you were getting what you wanted when he shifted his hips and lifted you up but he moved agonizingly slow.

“Tell me how much you want me,” he said, his chocolate brown eyes mostly black as he stared up at you. He held you just above his lap, and his hands squeezed your hips so tightly that you knew there’d be bruises there tomorrow.

“I want you Max. I need you.”

“And no one else?”

You didn’t say anything, your mind begging you to focus solely on the sensations. But Max wouldn’t relent. He pulled almost all the way out, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you as he stilled his hips. “Say it. Say there’s no one else like me.”

One hand snaked up and grabbed your breast, his thumb tweaking the nipple painfully.

“Only you!” you gasped, arching against him, “No one can do what you do!”

Max growled and plunged back into you, driving as deep as possible, “That’s right. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You cried out at the feeling of him pounding back into you, setting a new fast and rough pace. You bounced on his lap, moaning his name as he fucked up into you. Neither of you lasted long. Soon enough your orgasm hit you like a truck, your walls fluttering around his cock as you grasped at his back and his hair. He followed after a few more rough thrusts, coating your walls with his release as he bit into your shoulder to quiet his groans.

You were so satisfied and blissed out that you didn’t remember crawling up towards the head of the bed and cuddling into Max’s warm, soft body to fall asleep.

This is why we can't have nice things, honey

Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you said about me?

But the morning after served as a wake-up call.

“Max?”

Your eyes fluttered open when you realized he wasn’t still in bed next to you. You sat up, running a hand through your disastrous hair. He must have heard you call out because Max appeared in the doorway of the ensuite bathroom, already fully dressed for work.

“Ah you’re awake. I have to rush off, you don’t mind seeing yourself out do you?”

He glanced down when he said it, fiddling with his cuff-links. Your heart clenched painfully at his words, but this wasn’t your first foray into casual sex. What surprised you more was the fact that he seemed to want to ignore what he revealed to you last night. His new powers...

“What about last night?”

Max paused. He waved a hand in the air as he searched for the right thing to say, “I’m not sure that I have room for a relationship in my life right now. I’m-”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” you said sharply, fully aware that he was being evasive on purpose.

“Right. Of course. Well I have big plans for that too and they’re about to start today.”

“I don’t understand. What plans? Are you going to use this new power to-”

“Listen, I showed you what I showed you because I assumed you’d be discreet,” Max cut in, his face hardening, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anyone. And I’m sorry, but I can’t explain right now.”

“Max…” you said slowly, “What are you going to do?”

“I have to go.”

He made his way to the door, not sparing you another glance as you sat in his bed, completely bewildered and more than a little concerned.

“What about me?”

“I’m sorry, honey. This is bigger than you.”

This is why we can't have nice things

#maxwell lord #ww1984 #maxwell lord x reader #wonder women 1984 #maxwell lord smut #maxwell lord fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #my fanfic #fanfiction tag #the mandalorian #max lord #ww84

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years ago

Text

The Crane Team (End)

This is also the final end of the MC from the ReWritten series. I won’t feature her in any future work. I feel like this is a fitting and canon compliant end for where our character would naturally end up given her origins. I tried to tie everything together here in a nice little bow.

Black Swan Bay, Herzog, Caesar... all of it.

Thank you for reading.

Late afternoon light filtered through the dense canopy of green leaves, peeking through, flashing like shattered bits of sunlight. The breeze sent them dancing, the smell of a waning summer wafting through the air, the rattling cries of cicadas buzzing through it. This plus the cigarette smoke calmed Crow’s heart to the point that he felt that maybe he could go back to the Bliss Hall Memorial Garden. The Bliss Hall was surrounded by forest on all sides but a few grassy trails were cut into the forest to allow people to escape the heat of summer and observe the deer that made the woods their home. Even now, two does were standing in the shadows, ears out, watching him. He looked back at him, suddenly struck by the beauty amid so much sorrow.

He felt it was a little cowardly to run away, leaving Yoko Uesugi there with her bouquet of white roses and shame followed on the heels of his calm heart. It caught him off guard to see Sakura Yabuki enshrined in the memorial statue. Her face was so beautiful. The memories came flooding back. Meeting her, getting to know her, hoping for her happiness with Chisei Gen. But now that was all gone, nothing was left but her smile in bronze. He tapped the grey ashes from the cigarette and quietly cursed to himself. “Are you just going to stand there, Yoko?”

Yoko Uesugi was beautiful in that lavender colored kimono, her black hair tied up in a bun and adorned with a spray of white flowers. She was still holding the white roses in her hand. He knew she was shadowing him for a good distance. Now, she reached out to him. Her hand was ungloved and sparkled with clear scales on her knuckles. The two of them faced each other, a distance between them that seemed insurmountable a few weeks ago. Now they never felt closer.

“Come on, Crow. I want to go lay the flowers with you. I want to. We don’t have to stay,” she said.

Crow pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You’re a stubborn lady.”

“That’s for a reason.” She smiled. “A lot of reasons. I didn’t used to be like this. Once upon a time, I had completely given up on life. It was understandable, given my situation. I’d lost everyone I’d ever known, everyone I ever loved. I was surrounded by strangers. It wasn’t until a brash young man from Cassell College inspired me that I could even look ahead to the future again and not see anything more than darkness. He was my light. He still is. He taught me to live, taught me to hope, and taught me how to inspire that hope in others. To invest in the future of others, even on my darkest day. He assigned me to inspire hope in the Japan Branch. That is my mission here.”

“I’m stubborn because of him. I know the future isn’t as bright as he promised. I’m aware of the gathering clouds and shadows. That’s why after today, I will leave Tokyo. The threats to my life have become too great.”

Crow was stunned. “Too great even for Hydra?”

“Yes.” Yoko lowered her voice. “Herzog did not work alone. Some people who worked with him are now hunting me, and they are now behind the Sons of Amaterasu. I am their special target for assassination. Me and Miss Erii. It has nothing to do with my blood. They are cleaning up after themselves.”

Crow let out the breath he’d been holding. “More goodbyes huh?” He looked into her eyes, their golden light shrouded by colored contacts. “Don’t be mad but, you left a hair in my car. I had it tested. It showed that you and the Young Chief were distantly related. I had a feeling just looking at you. You reminded me of him. That’s what I meant.”

Yoko’s eyes widened slightly, then she laughed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised after all. Turning families against one another… is what Herzog did best.” She shook her head, smiling, a thin strand of hair drifted across her nose.

“So what are you going to do?” Crow asked.

“Now? I’m going to walk with you to the statue and lay the flowers. And then I will leave.”

“Who will take care of the job then?” Crow blinked.

“You, if you’re willing. You get along well with everyone I’ve introduced to you. You’re a man of heart and feeling. You’re sincere. I have no better candidate. I’ve already told the High Matriarch. She will support you.”

Crow nodded. “Mrs. Nanami and I have also been talking. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised about this either.”

“Then. Shall we?”

Crow crossed the space between himself and the Devil Girl, Yoko Uesugi and took her hand. Her hand was cool and dry despite the heat. He ran his fingers over the scales there. They weren’t hard, but they were smooth and slightly bumpy. She looked into his eyes and smiled. He smiled back.

Yoko and Crow stepped out of the forest together. The sky opened up from under the dark shadowed forest, a clear blue with wispy clouds. The breeze tossed a few strands of her hair. The heat was much milder now but he could observe the slight sheen of sweat on her face. She was young, beautiful, and carried a heavy burden with effortless grace. They returned to the statue, standing side by side.

“Who are the kids at the bottom of the statue?” Crow asked, looking at the happy faces of children enshrined in bronze. There were three children, two girls and a boy, laughing and sharing a hug.

“They are children I knew from an unnamed port in the arctic. Herzog’s first victims, where I was born. I’m not the only one who knows they ever existed now. It’s a comforting thought.”

“Your friends who died from before…” Crow said. The three children looked exquisitely happy, without a care in the world.

Crow watched Yoko look down and then they bowed in unison, heads lowered solemnly. They stayed that way for several seconds. Crow’s mind returned to the last time he saw the Young Chief, at the ruins of Tokyo Tower, with Sakura Yabuki as he received his swords. Gen Chisei wasn’t part of this memorial. Why not? He glanced at Yoko who was still bowing. A smile traced her cherry red lips. But before he could ask why Chisei wasn’t part of the memorial, the girl suddenly grimaced and moaned. A dark red splatter of blood suddenly painted the memorial statue and she fell forward before he could catch her.

“Yoko!” He picked her up off the ground, his suit stained red.

People were starting to fall all over the garden. The peaceful mournful scene turned into screams of panic.

“Snipers! We’ve got snipers!” He yelled.

A steady throb of rotors made him look up. Three black helicopters were heading in, firing on the memorial from a distance. Crow picked up the wounded Yoko and ran for the trees. Crow laid her on the soft grass and stuffed his jacket into her wound, breathing hard in panic. “Hold on! Hold on!”

“Go!” Blood streaked a grotesque smile out of the corners of her jaw and painted her teeth. “Save the others! I’ll be fine!”

Pain like a fire scorched Crow’s entire body! While he was at heart a kind person, he was the quintessential gangster, the son of a gangster, and that kindness withered under the hot desire to kill every one of these sons of bitches.

He raced towards the black vans parked outside and slammed open the doors to an arsenal of weapons. He picked the heavy antiaircraft gun that came standard with every van of the Executive Board. After they’d been caught flat footed at the Tokyo Tower, it was made sure that there would never be a convoy without heavy artillery ever again. He walked out, stood against the first helicopter and fired. The white smoke trail followed the missile and took out the first gun on the aircraft.

“Take down those choppers now!” He roared. “Get everyone to the safety of the woods!” He knelt down to reload. “They’re not aiming for me. They’re aiming for the civilians.” He snarled to himself.

Crow’s phone suddenly rang and he picked up.

A man’s low voice sounded. “Are you sure you’re on the right side?”

“It’s not my job to decide what’s right. That’ll shake out in the end. Right now, I’m acting with the authority of the High Matriarch and anyone who’s against that is a target!”

He shouldered the missile launcher again and fired. This time he aimed for the rotors. The boom thundered through the air and the smoking helicopter dropped.

Meanwhile, the two others had arrived and men on ladders swung down, firing on everyone that moved. Crow took cover behind the statue and loaded his guns. “All available personnel kill those guys!” He shouted over bullets and shrapnel landing all around. After a pause in the shooting he returned fire with his pistol, aiming at the people on the ladder, they dropped to the ground but still a few of them made it down.

“Sir!”

“Ryuusei!”

The young former Devil Clan member handed him a submachine gun. “For you, my friend.”

“Find Miss Erii and get her to safety.” He said with a solemn nod.

“Yes sir… but … Ms. Uesugi…” Ryuusei still loved Yoko it seemed. But now it was too late.

“She’s fine in the woods! Go!”

Bullets uprooted garden plants, shattered the bark of trees and sent dirt flying as the beautiful garden beds became war trenches to hide behind and fire from. The Sons of Ameterasu were in full body armor and it was only a matter of time before the casualties of the Japan Branch became too much and they were overrun. Three of those maniacs were gunning specifically for Crow. He couldn’t move from behind the statue for fear of getting shot, much less return fire. While they were shooting it seemed they were taking pleasure in destroying the statue. The smiling faces of those children were suddenly full of bullet holes.

He just had to wait for a pause. He listened carefully. He couldn’t die here. He wouldn’t.

Sudden screams made him peer from behind the artwork. A small figure had pounced on those men and fought them like a mongoose in a cobra’s den. He only saw flashes of her pale white skin and golden hair as she dispatched those Amaterasu members with the efficiency of a trained assassin.

Crow’s phone rang again. A cold female voice, the one he had heard before, came over the phone. “There are explosives in the helicopters. I need you to take them out. Let me take care of the men on the ground.”

“Are you from Cassell College?”

The cold voice took on a deadly air. “This has nothing to do with Cassell. Yoko is my sister.”

The phone call ended abruptly. Sister? His eyes turned to the statue of the young children. Was this voice one of those children from the unnamed port in the Arctic? Crow scrambled to get back to the vans. He glanced behind him and saw the girl, lying on the ground, giving him cover fire. He could only peer at her back, but her figure did resemble one of the children on the statue. Crow suddenly realized that this story was full of unknown stories, a history as deep and dark and vast as the Japanese trench. It was one of friendship, sorrow, love and loyalty. It was a story that he wanted to be a part of.

He got back to the van and armed himself as much as he could. Yoko had put her whole heart and soul into the reunification of the Japan Branch and it was up to him to maintain her work. Did she know she was going to die here? He cursed and swore loudly, shoving magazines into his weapons. Why? Why did he always lose the people he was assigned to protect? He lifted up the missile launcher and fired one of the helicopters. A cloud of flames and dark debris rained down on the garden and set it alight in a cruel parody of both Bliss Hall, Black Swan Bay, and the Red Well. The last of the bricks of the house that Herzog built was now under assault and his ghost was still haunting them.

But in a stark contrast to those times, Cassell, Hydra and the Devil Clan fought back and put up a united front to battle the phantom of that man’s murderous and evil intentions.

Crow didn’t know who ran up to him to tell him that a man had run into the woods. He could have been a former devil or Hydra, or from Cassell, He didn’t care. He knew who that man in the woods was after and he had to protect her.

At the edge of the garden, Ryuusei ducked behind a tree just before bullets ate through the bark and into the soft white wood. He ran again and barely escaped the bullets whizzing by his head like angry bees. He was out of ammunition and could only hide. They knew he was out too. As he crouched behind a statue of Buddha, he smiled bitterly. “You warned me, Yoko… people who fall in love with you… tend to end up dead.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

When he opened them again, a pair of crimson eyes blinked at him. Before he could shout, a small pale hand covered his mouth. She raised one finger to his lips and then closed her eyes. When she opened them, that crimson had turned to gold.

She opened her mouth and an ugly frog-like snarl rolled out of that pretty throat. Her thin arms wrapped around the buddha statue to hug it from behind. She picked up that stone statue, leaving a square patch of bare dirt exposed, and then threw it like an olympic javelin. This statue weighed a few hundred pounds and immediately crushed the people who were pursuing Ryuusei.

Then she grabbed his hand and together they ran into the forest. Darkness closed around them. Ryuusei could smell the smoke. “Miss Erii… right?” He could scarcely believe what he saw. This girl didn’t need his protection. She should be out there fighting like all the others!

Erii suddenly skidded to a halt. Her eyes widened. She backed up. A man all black, a mask, and body armor blocked their way, holding two dark pieces of wood. He started to tap them in a pattern and Erii grabbed her head and started to whimper and cry, tears falling from her eyes. She collapsed completely thrashing on the ground as if in terrible pain.

“What are you doing to her?!” Ryuusei leaped forward.

The man then drew a pistol and shot Ryuusei in the stomach. Ryuusei fell next to her, unable to inhale, breath frozen, eyes wide. The blue colored sun mark of the Sons of Amaterasu was on his sleeve. Ryuusei couldn’t believe it. Not here. Not now. He could only watch the assassin calmly and silently change one pistol for another. This time, aimed for Erii’s head.

A loud yell from the woods distracted his attention and Crow came from the brush, howling like an angry bear and tackling him in a line drive straight into a tree. The man dropped the gun and the two men fell to the ground, wrestling for it, tumbling over and over. Ryuusei’s hand was wet and sticky with blood and he grunted. “Erii… Ms. Erii… please get up!”

Erii was just whimpering. “Yoko… Yoko! Sister! Help me! Please help me!”

Crow’s fists struck the helmet and then the mask. The man grabbed his head and slammed him hard with a headbutt and leaped to his feet. Then he gave him a savage kick in the side. “You’re no better than that Chisei Gen. Soft. Soft to Devils that will ruin our future!” He stood over Crow and drew his pistol. “This is the last stand of the bloodline. All Devils must die! You used to be one of us. You used to be a Devil Slayer. What poisoned your mind?” He grabbed Crow by the throat. “You know the truth better than anyone.”

Crow snarled, back at him, unafraid of death. “I do know the truth better than anyone… and even better than you!”

Crow still had his gun, a pistol, modified by the Equipment department. It wasn’t meant to be used at such close range but he had no choice. He drew it and blasted the man in the chest. Even the body armor couldn’t save him from this powerful round. The force of it crashed into his ribs, snapping them like dry branches, taking his breath away. Crow swept his legs out from under him and pinned him, yanking his arms behind his back. “You want to know the truth? We Hydra were killing at the orders of a killer. Someone who was creating monsters and then sending us to destroy what he created! The truth isn’t what you know. The truth is what I know. We were pawns. All of us!” Crow roared. “I’m not going back to being a pawn by continuing to follow that bastard’s orders! And anyone who does will be eliminated by the family. These are the orders of Chisei Gen and I always follow his orders!”

The man laughed. “Then look. Look at what your precious orders have led to.”

A movement caught Crow’s eyes and he lifted his gun. Then he lowered it. A woman, naked, white like a wraith, now stood on the path, her long, ragged black hair draping over her golden eyes. She was tall, almost seven feet, long and thin with heavy claws for hands. She was covered in crystalline, mirror-like scales that reflected the shadowy greens of the forest. Bone wings, white as snow, extended from her back. Her legs were willowy, like a cross between a dragon and a mythical elf. Had her dragon evolution progressed further her legs would have fused into a serpent’s tail.

But as monstrous as her form was, he could still recognize the white flowers that dangled from her long hair. His strength left him and his face paled. “Yoko… no…”

“I had to… I had to survive.” Even her voice was different, gone from that deep softness, to something a little more like a rattle. “I have to go. I won’t be able to turn back.”

“Are you really going to let her escape Crow? That woman… She's a ghost. She’s turned fully into a ghost. Like they all will somed-”

Crow’s fist smashed into the man’s head. “Shut up! This is your fault! You! She was fine! She was fine! Until you shot her! You shot her, you bastard!” He battered the guy into unconsciousness, tears streaking down his face. This wasn’t inevitable. None of it was. Everything could have been fine! Then these people…

He finally stopped beating the man and sighed, defeated. “Executive Department policy says I have to kill you. But…”

“That’s right. I raised my blood too high in order to survive the gunshot wound. This is the price I had to pay for my life.” She regarded her crystal claws thoughtfully. “There’s a third option for us. If I can’t live as a human… or a ghost, then I would like to choose my place to die please.”

Crow lifted his head. “Choose?”

“Yes. You’re still in a war against dragons. And I’ve learned that the only thing that can kill a dragon is another dragon. You need me. And when you do. Call.”

Her eyes shifted to behind him. “Ryuusei!”

“I’ll get him a doctor!” Crow staggered to his feet. The pain in his head was starting to finally hit him and he swayed with dizziness.

“Good. I have to go.” She hurried to Erii’s side. She carefully gathered Erii up into her arms as easily as if she were a child. “Thank you… Crow.”

“Don’t thank me.” He stood up and dropped his gun from a limp hand, tears ran down his face. “Don’t thank me.”

“Thank you, Crow.”

“Damn it! I said- Augh!”

Her wings swept upward. The wind created by them was unnatural, dark clouds swirled instantly into the sky, the trees swayed under the gale. The elements were becoming unmoored from their natural order by Yoko, and stirred up by her.

The downbeat of her wings knocked him back and she rocketed upward into the sky with Erii. The dense clouds let loose a sudden downpour that smothered the flames consuming the garden and turned the ground black. She hid her presence behind this gray curtain. Crow’s voice calling out to her was drowned out by peals of thunder, but he ran chasing that retreating form, those dark immense wings, until they disappeared.

Crow stood in the middle of the garden looking helplessly up into the sky.

“What are you doing?” Said a cold female voice. “She’s gone. And she’ll never come back. Don’t just stand there. We have wounded people.”

Crow turned to her. “Who are you?”

“My name is not important.” The doll-like girl with pale white skin and golden hair turned her back on him and walked away alone.

Crow took a breath and clapped his hands together to steady himself. Then he turned and started barking orders at the security team.

Months later, Crow stood in front of a line of young men and women, some from the Devil Clan, some from the cadres of Hydra, new recruits for the Executive Branch of Japan. “You’re a select group. I selected you because you’re the ones who stood side by side and fought for the unification and healing of Japan. The first of its kind. A mixed-blood group. Some of you were Hydra some of you were Devils. But now you’re one.”

“You are now, the Crane Team!”

#Dragon Raja #Crane Team

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giyuwu-san · 4 years ago

Text

burn the stage — part 1 // dabi

— A multi-chapter fic complete with your favorite indie and mainstream bops. Watch as you fall in love with the captivating guitarist of a band one drunken, perfect night. (BAND AU)

↱ PAIRING : Dabi x Female!Reader

↱ WORD COUNT : 5K

↱ WARNINGS : Mentions of alcohol, Suggestive themes, Strong language, Dabi being hot

↱ TAGS : @yusemis @lordexplosionsextra @astrrnmy @basicallyberry @j-brielmalfoy (I actually remembered my taglist this time wow)

↱ AUTHOR’S NOTE : Thank you sosososo much to @kaikamikazi for allowing me to use her likeness for Kai’s character! Happy birthday to my favorite clown <3 everyone please wish her a happy birthday woot woot !!! And also huge huge thanks to @doughnuts-5ever and @jojosmilktea for helping me proofread/betaread this fic huhu it was a whole ass mess you guys are absolute legends tysm!!

↱ PLAYLIST

↱ SERIES MASTERLIST

------------------------------------------------✈

scene one; no song

"Thousands of years ago, our ancestors looked up at the night sky and saw a field of lights."

The aged man paced around the room, hands folded behind his back and hair graying by the roots. His side facing the blackboard on the wall, he continued;

"None of them really knew what they were," he stopped and looked at the vast sea of students perched atop of chairs in the big room. "But, they made a fascinating observation."

You sat listening to your professor, your chin perched on your open palm, and eyes focused on the notebook that sat idly on your connected desks.

"They noticed that the patterns were predictable and had clear effects." The man said with some form of self-acknowledged eureka, his left hand coming up to the height of his face, index finger pointing up at the heavily-lit ceiling. "The seasons, the tides, the harvests."

"Incredible, isn't it?" he resumed.

The man was about to continue on his tangent. But that was until a hand shot up in the air, followed by a voice.

"Uhm, professor?" the boy who raised his hand asked. "Aren't we supposed to be learning about chemistry?"

Your professor looked at him, who now appeared to be slightly frightened by the blank but disrupted gaze of his teacher.

“Pfft—”

You turned around to see your friend Kai, her head resting upon her folded arms. Was she seriously trying to sleep through the lesson again?

“The one opportunity we got to sleep,” she sighed. “You just had to ruin it, brainy.”

“Is that seriously what you call a sufficient insult?” you asked as you fully tilted your head towards her direction.

“Wasn’t saying it to insult him.” She said casually as she massaged her head with the hand closest to her, face still partially buried within her entangled arms. “Wasn’t saying it to compliment him either though.”

You scoffed.

“You’re unbelievable,” and at that, the darker-skinned girl turned to you with horror in her eyes.

“Oh no,” she said petrified.

“What?”

“You’re being a Karen again.”

You looked at her dumbfounded, sighing.

“I am not being a Karen,” you started. “I’m just saying—”

It was already too late, however, as Kai had both her hands covering her ears, blocking out your protests as well as all her other life issues.

You sighed once more and turned your attention back to your professor, your notebook still open on your desk.

“Your semester is practically over,” said your professor, standing idly in front of all the students, his left hand reaching up to habitually play with the fabric of his suit tie.

“So, let me have some me-time every once in a while," he continued.

‘You never let us have any me-time—’ is what you could feel the hoard of tired students internally screaming around you.

The aged man cleared his throat and set along to once again resume his lengthy ramble.

“Where was I?” he asked himself, his feet already departing from his standstill position in the middle of the room as he started walking about once more.

“Ah yes, so it seemed logical that these lights shaped everything else in our lives. But with the scientific method disproving all these theories, why do people still look for meaning in the stars?”

A hand shot up in the air once again, only to be shot back down by a quick hand gesture from the professor.

“Calm down now, I’m not done yet,” he said.

“Many prolific historical figures of our kind, such as the Iikes of William Shakespeare, have used the concept of astrology as a metaphorical expression, more than an actual study. Whether or not he truly believed in it, he still used the idea of astrology to create some of his most well-known epigrams to date,” he continued.

“With lines such as; ‘These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to us.’ from King Lear, ‘A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life.’ from Romeo and Juliet— I’m sure a lot of you are familiar with that one." He faced the students once more. "And my utmost favorite, ‘The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars—’”

“But in ourselves, that we are underlings.”

“—From Julius Caesar,” the professor smiled. “Well done, Miss L/N.”

Shock settled into your form, having realized that you had said that much louder than you had anticipated. Now with the burning stares of your classmates and uncontrolled laughter coming from a seatmate you used to call your best friend, you let out an exasperated sigh, head falling onto your desk and arms protecting you from the unfiltered judgment of the outside world.

You sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time that day before finally coming out of hiding, your chin once again finding shelter in your welcoming palm. You stared down at your open notebook, observing each line and angle. Stared at the drawings of orbits clashing together with the unwelcome intrusion of jotted scientific equations. A picture of the sun as each planet aligned themselves accordingly within their rotation, along with the lengthy compound formula of 4 Bromo, 3-4 Dichloro, Ethyl Hexanoate, written briskly, and uncared for.

But despite your apparent unhappiness and deep-rooted sorrow, you lifted your head forward and listened to the lesson in front of you.

"You seriously need to loosen up," said Kai, her head faced towards you. "When was the last time you danced to music alone in your bedroom?"

You thought about it for a second.

She sighed.

"You're so sad," she sighed once more and patted your head. "Poor baby."

She brought her hand down from the crown of your head, arm now resting on your shoulders as she brought you in closer.

"I'm gonna get you laid tonight," she said with conviction. You looked at her profile, absolutely bewildered.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"That's right," she nodded her head in content. "You're having sex tonight, just leave it to me."

"Shouldn't we work on having me dance to music alone in my bedroom first?" you countered.

"Even better," she grinned at you with the type of grin your primary teachers warned you about. You know, those creepy man smiles that you should run away from when faced with in a dark, ominous alley? "I'm taking you to a bar."

You could feel Mrs. Peterson screaming at you to run.

But nobody really listened to Mrs. Peterson. Sorry.

You sighed once more at your beaming friend and nodded your head slowly.

"Whatever," you finally said. Attention spanning back to the lecture in front of you as you turned your head. "After the class ends."

Kai smiled and leaned back into her chair, legs crossing and folded arms supporting her head from behind. She looked utterly satisfied.

"Alright Karen," she said.

"My name is not Karen," you grumbled.

"Then stop being such a Karen and let me have my fun," she closed her eyes and smiled. Totally abandoning the lecture playing out before her. Chemistry was all just a bunch of bullshit anyway.

scene two; black eyes

Ambient lighting and muffled voices were what greeted you and Kai as you both entered the bar. The light that shone down above you cast an evanescent sheen across the tiny, hidden bar.

You fumbled in with your red dress and heeled boots, bridging the edge of comfortable and painfully exposed. It’s been years since you've last worn a dress.

"Are you sure this isn't some kind of ancient speakeasy?" you asked Kai, uneasy.

"A speakeasy for bands and stuff sure," she shrugged. "Sadly, no dancing flapper girls, so sorry to disappoint."

You nodded and started heading towards the bar. No matter how badly you wanted to keep up the 'holier than thou' attitude, college was rough and unforgiving.

You ordered your drink and sat down on the stool, Kai following you shortly after as she sat beside you.

"I heard there's gonna be a good band playing tonight," she rings up the bartender and orders a drink.

She takes one look at your drooping face and sighed, her hand coming up to massage your shoulder.

"Loosen up," she takes a sip from her drink, "just for tonight, okay?"

You sighed and nodded timidly, copying her as you took a swig of your own drink.

"Looks like they're almost up," she taps your shoulder. "Mr. Compress is about to introduce them."

"Mister wha—" she shushes you before you could continue, leaving you no other choice but to sigh and watch.

The man with the strange name took center-stage with the microphone in his hand. The crowd seemed to know who he was, for they cheered and started gathering at the front of the stage.

"Let's go take a closer look too," Kai stood up and started dragging you with her. "Take your drink with you."

You looked at the already half-empty glass and shrugged, opting to chug it down instead. You finished your drink and walked with Kai towards the pit of people, still confused about what exactly was going on.

The strangely named man started to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he threw his free hand in the air by his side flamboyantly. "What an incredible pleasure to have you all here tonight. I am delighted to see some familiar faces, and some new ones too."

He grinned.

"I'm sure a lot of you are here to relieve some stress, no?" he asked, and the crowd cheered in affirmation. The man chuckled and continued;

"Well, I best not keep my wonderful patrons waiting then." The crowd cheered louder. "Without further delay, may I present to you, The Villain League!"

The crowd roared as four people took the stage, varied instruments at their disposal, but the one that caught your eye was the one that stood at the center, a guitarist, and a good looking one at that.

He was mostly dressed in dark clothing, aside from the white t-shirt he wore under his long coat. His features were hidden beneath the shadow cast by the dimmed lights.

And that was when the music started.

Electric guitar blinded your senses and opened your eyes. The exhilarating sound numbed the nerves that coursed through your entire body. Every hair on your body stood on its roots, awakened by the new thrill of music.

The lights turned on to the max, and the crowd went wild. Hands flew up in the air, the drinks in the opposite limb gambling on the edge of death.

It was music like you've never heard before.

"Holy shit," you said to yourself, the alcohol in your system taking its effect.

The man in the middle started singing, and you gasped as you took in the rest of his features. A good portion of his face and neck were covered in burn marks, as well as the top of his torso, which then spread across his arms. You awed.

How could someone who looked so damaged be so perfect?

Your eyes watched in wonder as your ears listened with delight. You made a mental note to thank Kai for dragging you into one of the best nights of your life.

So this is what college was supposed to be like.

You smiled, feeling the bricks fall off your shoulders. You stood straighter as your eyes opened wider, and shined even brighter.

This is so awesome.

You threw your hands in the air and let out a scream with the rest of the crowd. Kai catches sight of this and follows along with your mania, a laugh escaping her lips.

You were enjoying the aura of absolute chaos, but nothing had prepared you the moment your eyes caught his, staring right back at you. His mouth formed a devilish smile that made all the heat rush through your body in mere seconds.

"The girl in the red dress," he said into the microphone. Your eyes widened in unalloyed shock as they caught sight of the mischievous glint in his own. "Come out on stage with us."

What the fuck?

The crowd cheered louder and started to look around to find who he was referring to. They soon caught sight of you, who was still calculating the odds of you being the only girl in red.

The sea of people parted and formed a direct path from you to the stage, and you were honestly shell shocked.

Kai laughed and cheered you on.

"Congrats Karen, you've officially been promoted to Moses!" she cheered even louder.

"What, I—" you sputtered out.

Kai took her left hand and smacked your back, forcing you to stumble forward.

"Go!" she yelled at you through the howls of the crowd. "Get. Fucking. Laid!"

At that, the crowd burst into an explosion of screams. Whistles and hoots were all that was heard as your shaking legs made its way towards the stage.

You eventually made it to the edge, and the enigmatic guitarist leaned down to help you. Grasping your hand firmly in his, he hoisted you up easily.

"What's your name?" he leaned into your ear as he said it, his steady voice combating all other noises, and winning.

"Y/N," you said right back into his ear, a shiver coursing through your body as the current situation was doing its number on your sanity.

"Nice shoes Y/N," he said cooly, and your head started spinning.

"Uh, thank you—"

"Let's have a good time together," he smirked at you, who blushed madly.

You looked over at the rest of his bandmates. A young girl with a blonde fringe manning the second electric guitar, she looked at you and grinned widely at you. Eyes smiled shut and tongue jutting out, she threw you a peace sign in welcome.

You looked behind you and saw a strange-looking man playing both the bass and keyboard. You made eye contact with him and he smiled, only for him to completely change his expression and give you the stink-eye, much to your confusion and anxiety.

Finally, you looked over at the drummer who had dead-looking baby blue hair; he glanced at you and nodded briefly in acknowledgment.

"Don't mind the last two," the mysterious guitarist chuckled, "they're a lot more decent than they seem."

You nodded and smiled at him.

"So," he started. "Care to join in on the fun?"

You took a deep breath.

"Okay."

It was funny how you had started with not even being able to dance alone in your room. And now here you were, dancing along with countless strangers to music you never felt before.

scene three; ilysb

"You're new here, right?" the man said. He was sitting across from you with his head resting on his hand. His piercing blue eyes were focused only on you.

It had been about an hour since you stepped foot inside the hidden bar and thirty minutes since you were standing on stage with the band having the time of your life.

You looked over to the stage and saw your drunk friend Kai singing 'I Kissed a Girl,' microphone in her hands as she belted her heart out to the cheering crowd.

You couldn't help but chuckle, before turning your attention back to the enigmatic man staring intently at you.

"That's not slightly creepy at all," you answered jokingly.

The man chuckled slyly.

"I play here almost every night," he retorted coolly. "I would have definitely remembered you if you weren't new."

You nodded. Smooth.

"Fuck men!" you turned around to find Kai screaming into the microphone, one hand on the microphone stand and the other on the microphone itself. You sighed at the common occurrence.

"Fun friend you got," the man with burn marks said, attention also brought over to your crazed friend.

You sighed and nodded.

"I'm this close to dropping her," you said with no conviction.

He seemed to have caught on to your tone and answered accordingly.

"But you never will," he said.

"Yup," you nodded once more.

You looked over to him again, the alcohol in your body taking full effect.

"Wanna get out of here?" you asked him.

He looked at you with his eyebrow raised, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"And abandon your fun friend?" he asked you.

"Yes," you looked at him straight in the eyes as you said it.

"Sounds fun," he said, already standing up from his seat.

You followed suit, casting your drunk friend one last look before following the strange man out of the small speakeasy.

The cold night air greeted your body that clung tightly onto the limited warmth of your sweater jacket. You walked idly with the man standing beside you, the streets painted a dark vignette by the evening sky. The night suited him, you thought.

You let out a deep exhale which invaded the darkness with its cold color, the hues fighting until the dull white was engulfed by the overwhelming darkness of nightfall.

You looked up at the stars that were scattered across the sky, their white twinkle enrapturing the night sky with its light and color. Their light so bright that it couldn't be overthrown by the darkness of black. Instead, they were displayed up in the sky, allowed to show off their beauty with no restraints.

"Orion's in the sky," you observed quietly.

The man turned over to look at you.

"The constellation?" he asked as he too tilted his head up to watch the night sky.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I can't find the Pleiades, though."

Absentmindedly, your feet started moving in hopes to catch sight of the constellation. The dark-haired man watched you quizzically.

"Do you really think moving around will make them appear?" he asked you, who was now trudging farther and farther away. He sighed and started following you.

"There're so many buildings around," you groaned in your drunken state. "Can't a girl just see her stars when she wants to?"

He tilted his head in slight amusement and chuckled lowly.

"If it's the buildings you're worried about, I know where there's a field," he said. You turned around instantly.

"Show me this field, good sir."

"It's this way," he tilted his head over to the right, feet already walking towards its direction. You followed him, skipping.

You eventually were led towards an open field located on a small hill in the park. Wow, we had a park?

"Woah," you said in wonder. Your arms flying up from your sides as you spun around the grass, hair dancing in the breeze from your movements.

The man just watched you curiously, a small smile of endearment flickering on his lips.

You let out a big sigh of contempt and threw yourself down onto the grass floor, feeling at peace as the earthly bodies embraced you. The man who led you here followed suit, leaving little to no distance between your two figures as he laid down beside you.

"Can you see the Pleiades now?" he asked from beside you.

You looked up and examined the heavens, and your eye immediately catches the open star cluster that painted the sky. A gasp escapes your lips as you point up at the constellation you were looking for.

"There they are!" you squealed slightly, unable to control your excitement in your drunken state.

"Why'd you want to see them so badly?" he looked at you and asked.

"If you catch sight of Orion, then you're most likely gonna find the Pleiades too." You started, eyes focused eagerly on the stars. "There's this whole story behind them you know, about Orion and the Seven Sisters.

"It was said by Greek mythology that Orion fell in love with the sisters, and pined over them for 12 years. He would always chase after them in hopes that they would become his someday. But that was until one day Zeus decided to turn him and the sisters into stars. So Orion could chase them forever for the rest of eternity but never once be able to touch them."

"Wow," he said from beside you.

"Yeah," you said from beside him.

"You said they were the Seven Sisters," he said.

"Yeah?" you turned your head over to look at him, his eyes seemingly glowing under the star studded sky.

"But I can only see six at most," he stated.

"Oh," you turned your head back to the sky. "That's because those are the only ones visible to the naked eye. If you look through a telescope, a dozen more stars are visible."

"Is there a story behind that, too?" he asked.

"Yup," you stated and continued. "According to storytellers, Merope— one of the sisters, is hiding her face because she's the only one of the sisters who married a mortal and thus isn't respected for it.

"Her husband, Sisyphus isn't represented in the night sky either, cause he was condemned by Zeus to forever roll a stone up a hill in Hades only to watch it roll down again when he almost gets it to the top."

"That's..." his voice drifted off, "really sad."

You hummed in affirmation.

"You really like astronomy, huh?" he stated. "I'm assuming you're into astrology too?"

"Yeah," you answered.

"So, you're some type of zodiac girl," he said. "How quirky."

You scoffed.

"What type of music are you into?" he suddenly changed the subject, surprising you.

"I don't listen to music that much honestly," you said, surprising him, but not showing it on his face.

"Okay," he said. "Very quirky."

You laughed at yourself.

"Are you okay?" he asked you jokingly, maybe the alcohol was finally starting to get to him too. "Childhood trauma? Emotional baggage? Crazy ex-boyfriend?"

"Traumatizing college life," you said matter-of-factly. "And also just downright not having the time to listen to music."

"Spotify's expensive, too," you added.

"Ever heard of a radio?" he asked.

"Yes, but I can never concentrate on studying when music is on," you said.

"Ah," he said in a moment of realization. "It all makes perfect sense now. What's your major?"

"Organic chemistry," you said.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Makes sense."

"Kindly enlighten me then, cause I can't make sense of anything going on in my life," you said.

"You're a young adult suffering from the expectations and academically-focused constructs of our society," he said.

"Damn," you started. "You're right."

You sighed and placed your attention back at the azure before you.

"The moon's crying," you stated.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"The moon feels sad," you answered vaguely.

"The moon is sad," he stated beside you, eyes now focused onto the heavenly body in question. "The moon's just a broken planet that needs the sun to make it shine."

"Just because it needs help doesn't mean their shine is any less beautiful," you said back.

A long silence passed between the two of you, he looked at you, whose focus was still set onto the night sky. Whatever had you so enchanted by them, he might never know, but as he watched your features bloom with the ethereal sparkle of night, the twinkle in your eyes matching— no, outshining that of the stars you looked so fondly upon, he just sighed softly.

"Whatever you say, zodiac girl."

scene four; still with you

You were walking home with him in the cold night air, wind dancing softly around both of your figures as the gentle shrill tickled your senses.

It was colder than usual, you thought. But maybe that was just from the thrill of not spending your nights like you usually did, alone in your bedroom studying a topic you couldn't care less about. You sighed.

When was the last time you were able to lay down on your bed listening to music?

You were grateful for Kai, who you just realized had been abandoned at the bar she forced you into. You prayed for your survival the following day. You say that, but in the end, you were nonetheless thankful for giving you a college experience other than cramming every day.

You thought about what you would have been doing if you weren't forced into the bar, and laughed at the predictability.

You finally made it to your front door.

"Goodnight," the blue-eyed man said to you.

"Yeah," you said back. "Thanks for walking me home."

He nodded and watched as you made your way over to your front door.

You stopped.

You didn't know if it was the alcohol in your system, the cold night air, the thrilling atmosphere of spontaneity, or all of the above. But right now, you weren't in the mood to answer any multiple-choice questions.

You wanted to live for once. You wanted to feel anything else other than the dread of an upcoming deadline or relief after a grueling exam.

For once, you wanted— needed to be free of the expectations and academically-centered constructs of society. Constructs that you never wanted to question until now.

Even if it was only for tonight, you wanted to do the thing you wanted to do.

Even if it turns into a mistake, you would gladly take it for a few minutes of freedom.

You turned around and ran towards the man whose names you realized you didn't even know. But you were too far gone to be stopped.

Your hands found the side of his face and pulled your faces close, eyes meeting and lips almost touching. You breathed nervously.

"Can I kiss you?" you asked suddenly.

Shock and confusion flickered before his eyes but disappeared just as quickly.

"Sure—" he said, and your lips finally connected.

The kiss lasted for mere seconds until you pulled away, flustered and drunk and confused.

What were you doing?

You turned back around to enter your home and scream at yourself.

How could you just throw yourself at him like that?

But suddenly, his hand grabbed your arm and pulled you back towards him, connecting your lips once more. You could have sworn you melted.

The kiss lasted much longer, lips moving against one another and breaths being mixed together in the cold night outside your apartment building. Your hands in his hair and his arms around your shaking frame.

You pulled away to catch your breath, your air puffing up in the chilly twilight.

You pulled onto the sleeve of his jacket and led him towards your apartment, rushing past the other tenants and employees, you quickly got on the elevator where more kisses were exchanged in a drunken haze.

The elevator doors opened, and the two of you rushed out with you guiding him to your door.

You hurriedly put in your key, hands slightly shaking, the door opens and you hastily go inside.

He comes into your small apartment and closes the door with his foot, the door meeting the frame with a soft thud. He pushes you against the wall and your lips meet once again.

You didn't know how much time had passed with his lips moving against yours and hands roaming across your body, the contact sending both heat and shivers to course through your entire being.

His lips moved to your jaw, slowly making its journey down to your neck. Your breath hitched.

Some more time passed with low moans and heavy breathing coming from the both of you, now laying on your twin-sized bed half-naked.

You looked out the window beside your bed and saw the stars and moon staring back at you, illuminating your figures in its magical glow.

It was like time didn't exist when you were engulfed in his arms, his lips peppering your body in kisses and bite marks causing you to moan softly. You wanted to know what he was thinking, what he was feeling, with the moonlight shining softly on his features.

Your hands found themselves buried in his soft hair, time passing by faster as more clothes were being discarded around you.

"Y/N..." he said your name softly. His light voice passes by you, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitched. Having no name to call out to, you whimpered instead. Your bodies intertwined together under the dim light of your apartment, and your heart taking timid steps towards him, tripping and falling deeper and deeper.

It was colder than usual, the low-pitched hum of the air conditioner you forgot to turn off comforting you from afar. Your body shivered more, not used to the sensations. It felt good, it felt really good, but there was something about it that pained you and made you want to fall apart.

The unfamiliarity of the pleasure and sweat clouded your mind and made you think back to the times when you were studying instead. This was far different than the dull absence your mind feels when reviewing all your lessons. But even then, thinking back to the simple emotions that came from your textbooks and notes, maybe these simple feelings were special to you too.

The night progressed further, and time was lost once and for all in the midst of your shared pleasure, the night turning darker as the sparkling sky glowed onto your sweaty figures.

You both reached your climax and breathed heavily, eyes meeting and foreheads touching in what seemed like a hazy afterglow, both your minds fogged and judgments clouded.

Your hand delicately went up to touch his cheek, his eyes shimmering in the glow of the night sky. He looked at you with the faintest smile. Underneath it was painted the most beautiful purple, his broken and damaged face sending your heart into a fit of shooting stars.

His body collapsed next to you on the small bed, arms encasing you tightly against his warm body.

You looked over to the window beside your bed. The sun was slowly rising, and the moon began to fade away into the brightening sky.

You felt your eyes slowly closing, finally giving in to the sleep you denied yourself all night.

Goodbye moon.

And just as the moon left your sky that February sunrise, so did the man who slept next to you that very next day.

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yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy · 4 years ago

Text

Why So Jaded? Chapter 1

Ok, so forever ago, I wrote this story called Why So Jaded for the pairing of Synlet (Buddy “Syndrome” Pine/ Violet Parr) and when I originally wrote it- I got halfway through and lost my drive, inspiration and motivation and I gave it a really lack luster/shoddy ending just to finish it and move on to something else. Which I felt guilty over because the story had so much potential to be something amazing. But I didn’t know how to really wield it then. Well, fast forward several years (9 to be exact), and I’ve grown considerably as a writer. And guess what is getting a revamp? This. So to put this into a real setting, I’ve face casted the crew. Bottom right Aged Up Violet Par who is now 24. Middle redhead. (You will not believe what I’ve gone through to find the right face model for him) Bartholomew “Buddy” Pine, aged. 31. Blonde on the left. Phillip Sebastian. Aged 26.

FFN AO3

Ten years after the events in the movies yet in a modern setting.

Violet Parr as Invisigirl, has since disappeared from the public eye several years ago. She became a protégé to none other than Mirage and has had an incredibly successful career still working for The Agency but working as a spy and agent behind the scenes and foiled more Villains than most Superheroes combined, all without anyone but The Agency ever knowing that she was the one who foiled them.

However Superhero Work has it's price- mentally, emotionally and most of all physically and now Invisigirl has to come out of the shadows and work one last job as a public handler for an Aristo-brat, genius, billionaire, playboy- Mr. Phillip Sebastian who has his own tricks and agenda and requests Invisigirl specifically. Which in turn- put's her back on the radar and put's her under an iron clad contract with not just The Agency but with Mr. Sebastian himself. And it's this one last job that will be the answer to all of Violet Parr's problems. After this, she can disappear for good and never, ever, be found again and live in peace and seclusion. However this job has it’s perks. A handsome asset, one hell of a paycheck and the bonus is that it puts her back into Metroville with her parents and the rest of her family who live just across town, still in suburbia. It's a three year contract and she is already a year in and everything is going perfectly.

Until- Bartholomew aka “Buddy” Pine decides to try his hand at corporate espionage. His target? Phillip Sebastian. Which complicates- everything- for one Miss. Violet Parr. What’s a girl to do?

Why So Jaded?

Chapter 1

Buddy Pine tried to take a calming breath as he continued to work the safe, inside was gold and jewels and other precious things he could care less about. But in the far corner, in an unassuming box would be the nanochip to end all nanochips. It would give IRize all the edge it would ever need on the market. But the more he fought with this stupid safe combination biometric lock, the more frustrated he felt. The biometrics? Easy to fake and duplicate- it was basically a cake walk for him but getting the right three numbers on the combination? Ironically, almost impossible it seemed. It shouldn't be this difficult. But it was. He had built an empire in his relatively short lifetime of just 31 years on this earth and he was on his way to building a second that would dwarf the first. But a damn combination safe lock? It was practically laughing in his face and taunting his defeat at him and he was ready to bash it with his head or just laser the damn thing open and he was so focused on opening it, he didn't notice how the hairs on his arms and neck suddenly rose up to stand on end but the chill down his spine finally pulled him out of his hyper focus which gave him pause.

"I figured I would find you here," Invisigirl accused only a second later as she dropped her invisibility as she leaned her back against the wall next to the safe and casually folded her arms in front of her, watching him closely while putting on an air of amused disinterest as Buddy nearly jumped out of his skin and had a heart attack before he took a moment to realize what was happening and who exactly had snuck up on him before he recognized his new companion.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that Invisigirl ," Buddy chastised as he stopped for a moment, seeing if she was going to stop him or arrest him or something. Meanwhile Invisigirl was impressed he seemed to know who she was. Most assumed she was another super. But he didn’t. He seemed to know exactly who she was. Interesting.

In a decade or so she had gone from tween to fully realized Super but she wasn't always walking in her parent's footsteps. In fact very few people even knew where she really stood on the Superhero/Villain or even antihero line mostly because she never did any press or appearances. She had no merch, no public presence and other than foiling a few public villains, she liked to keep her work all behind the scenes and very secretive, if not quite clandestine. She was more of a secret agent and a spy than a superhero and in reality she had done countless jobs without the villains even realizing she was ever involved at all and the few who did realize who had foiled them, rarely got to live long enough to tell anyone who had taken them down, but word had still come out, whispered among closest of allies on both sides. Enough to build a dangerous and lethal reputation among Supers and Villains and even antiheroes alike. It was like she was a ghost most of the time.

Besides, she wasn't even supposed to be here, she was supposed to be half a world away with him, her employer and Buddy’s real competition and target, but who was sadly, one of many competitors. Only about a year ago, there was a paparazzi picture that popped up of her as an assistant of her current employer and it was the first time she had shown up on any radar in the last several years. And it had been an old colleague that had even brought it to Buddy's attention and his jaw had dropped when he realized who she was and ever since Buddy had noticed she got closer and closer to her boss to the point it was rumored that she was his right hand woman if not one woman security detail even though her employer was still guarded by a full security team. A rumor also sprang up that she was also his steady girlfriend because she was his shadow and he never went anywhere without her and coincidentally, it was also the same man who owned the safe he was trying to crack and who had become Buddy’s number 1 rival after his fall from grace a decade earlier. Buddy would have to fire his trackers, they were completely useless now.

"Actually you technically sneaked up on me, I've been here the whole time, and that thing you do with your tongue when you're really concentrating is kinda cute," Invisigirl countered in dry sarcasm with an air of teasing as she examined her gloves, looking for imperfections even though she had carefully crafted her look so that even in the smallest details, she was immaculate. Even her suit had changed. Instead of the traditional red and black of her family, she was in holographic black with sheens and shimmers of the colors of the rainbow with ultraviolet accents and even his eyes could see the brilliant nano armor built into the ethereal fabric that looked remarkably like snake scales. It had been Edna's greatest creation yet and Violet wore it like a second skin. Her long black hair was straightened and even her hair had a super glossy silky sheen as it laid over her shoulder since she had swept it to lay there. She had been growing it out so that it would hit the small of her back and top of her butt when she wore it down, accentuating her gorgeous hourglass figure. While her mother had been bottom heavy and her father had been top heavy. She was perfectly balanced between the two and if anything, ideally and beautifully balanced and proportional, if not dangerously curvy herself and was now a stunning beauty in and out of her suit apparently. Her thick long eyelashes delicately fluttered as she blinked and the wicked curve to her grin was as disarming as her big gorgeous doe eyes in that deep but brilliant shade of violet- that Buddy felt he could get lost in for millennia. But her eyes had many years ago- lost their innocence but gained a sense of worldliness, wisdom and discernment as she looked from her glove back over to his face with a serene if not expectant look on her coquettish features. If Buddy didn't know of her prior, he would think she was the real thief in this situation, if not his competition to get into the safe. And her relaxed posture was clearly non threatening even though he could discern everything about her was in fact, a threat .

But Buddy took her banter and her posture as a sign that she wasn't going to stop him so he continued working the dial, trying to crack the safe and they were silent for a moment as she made no motion that would suggest she was leaving anytime soon as she appeared to settle in and the only sounds to be heard was their breathing. Invisigirl's was calm and even, while Buddy's betrayed just how worked up he was over this combination part of the lock.

"You know, I never thought you would ever be the kind of guy who would do his own dirty work, I thought with this kind of thing you usually used a variety of accomplices, if not some little device or machine, what happened? Your safe cracker device is broken? " Invisigirl instigated as she gave his work a dismissive glance before her eyes traveled up his hands to his arms to the rest of him. Gone was his old suit and eccentric hair style. He was simply wearing black tactical gear and his hair was much shorter, slicked back and still handsome as her eyes took notes of his extensive scarring that even she could see he had been trying to fix with lots plastic surgery so he looked more or less like himself as she refolded her arms loosely under her chest and instead appreciated the painting on the adjacent wall, the glass covering the priceless art giving her the perspective she wanted so that she could look like she was appreciating the art instead of actively watching him as she waited for him to figure out that safe combination as she mentally wondered if she should just open the safe herself to save him this excruciating ordeal because the guy was clearly getting even more flustered now that he had an audience which she thought was telling.

"As a matter of fact, it is. But if you want a job done right, you do it yourself." Buddy managed to answer as he tried to focus on the task at hand as he noticed that answer gave her wicked grin a deeper curve.

"It sounds like you haven't tried to crack a safe in your life, are you even trying to crack it or are you trying to break the locking mechanism by zeroing in on all of those false contact points or will you keep twisting that thing until your fingers fall off?" Invisigirl further instigated as her boredom began to tax her patience. He was supposed to still be a genius. He should have had it by now. She knew she was being distracting but this was bordering on ludicrousy.

"I don't suppose you know the combination?" Buddy drawled, getting annoyed and frustrated with himself that he was getting so flustered by her distracting and alluring presence, let alone the damn lock.

"Of course I do, the combination is your birthday, the creator is a big fan of yours, perhaps one of your biggest, but I'm sure if you simply asked him for the nanochip, he would have given it to you rather than you going through all this trouble of stealing it from him," Invisigirl answered.

"I didn't know your boyfriend was the sharing type," Buddy quipped as he turned the dial with now deft fingers, opening it now with ease. Invisigirl snorted a laugh and shook her head.

"Well at least my cover is intact," she alluded as she pushed off the wall and stretched a bit- bringing her arm over her head and stretching her shoulders and neck. "By the way it's the box on the left, not the right," She added as she began to walk away, flipping her hair off of her shoulder to her back as a cascade of soft silky black hair began to hang down her back as she gave him one last look over her shoulder to make sure he actually got the nanochip and nothing else.

"Wait a minute, you're just going to let me get away with this?" He asked incredulously.

"Yeah, it's not my fault you broke in on my vacation when I'm supposed to be in.. Barcelona? Or is it Madrid? Is that where your goons think I am? By the way, you need to get new ones, they don't blend in at all and their loyalty is flimsy at best, they report their tabs that they keep on you to him before they ever report thier tabs on him to you because his pockets are deeper than yours and who doesn't like to collect at least two paychecks for the same work?" Invisigirl divulged as she continued to lazily saunter away, her hips swaying in a near hypnotizing rhythm that had almost completely distracted Buddy from the safe altogether.

Buddy narrowed his eyes at the contents of the safe, it would be something he would deal with later. "Wait, so he's not your boyfriend?" Buddy inquired as he stowed the nanochip safely away and locked the safe up again before catching up to her and walking beside her for a bit.

Invisigirl gave him a side glance. "Not even close, he has a thing for the thin, ballerina- runway model types, uses them faster than Kleenex," Invisigirl answered flippantly with a waive of her delicate and slender fingers before turning a corner and opening a door to an office and walking over to the window, opening it and getting ready to jump out.

"You're jumping?" Buddy inquired knowing that his exit route was eerily similar.

"Again. Not even close," Invisigirl practically laughed as she tapped on the device in her ear, a sliding door to a small hovercraft opened right in front of them as the outline of it began to warp the view around it as it moved closer to her. "You didn't think I'm the only thing capable of disappearing did you? I would offer you a ride but, something tells me you already have one, see you around Syndrome," Invisigirl bid him with a mock salute as she gracefully hopped from the window sill to the waiting door and into the aircraft.

"Hey, haven't you heard? Syndrome died, like a decade ago, he got pulled into a jet turbine. Horrible painful death. He ain't coming back from the dead." He called after her which made her pause and turn to look at him curiously.

"Did he? Well in that case. Good riddance to him then, the world's a much better place without him." She called back before the door closed and vanished completely again. The only evidence that it was gone was a stiffer than normal breeze. Buddy could just barely hear it fly away and felt his stomach collect a few butterflies as a smile bloomed on his face. A jaded Invisigirl was a sexy Invisigirl and she knew it. Color him intrigued, if not quite impressed as he wondered if he was one of the first to ever get to see her in action and live to tell about it.

#Why So Jaded #Why So Jaded Chapter 1 #Synlet #Buddy Syndrome Pine #Bartholomew Pine #Violet Parr #Invisigirl #Corporate espionage AU #Modern AU #Let the games begin

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ssaalexblake · 4 years ago

Note

20-30

Talk about a ship you feel alone in shipping.: Lilith x Adam in Sabrina? It was always Bananas to me ppl were pissed he was a dude when the story would have been straight up bury the gays otherwise. She’s over 6000 years old! He’s the first person to ever be just Nice to her just for the sake of it. Ever!!! Ofc she’d fall for him. Also thematically it was Very obvious why they made the choices they did. Too bad satan happened. However, it was satisfying to see an alexis denisof character be murdered to forward the story of his love interest. Very satisfying.

Is there a ship you just don’t get, but have nothing against? I never got jj x hotch. I mean w/e but i never got it. But jj/hotch fans were annoying exactly Never so we always got on fine. idk, a lot of things i go ‘yeah that’s a fine ship i get why u like that’ and just don’t actively ship it? I’m rarely baffled by anything and when i am i usually openly dislike it. ... Baffled by wanda and the vision currently. If ppl get rlly obnoxious about it with that new weird show it will probably move over to the ‘i have something against this’ column. But for now we’re at baffled.

Which of your ships have the best chemistry? The ship that has the best chemistry is whatever i’m shipping the most at any given time. Currently the doctor and master’s bitter divorcee phase. It’s more fun when they fight.

Which of your ships deserve better writing? Most all of them???? eh... Jack and Ianto? By which i mean Ianto’s death scene was Shit and ruined what should have been a very painful scene by Not Following In Universe Canon to pull at peoples heart strings when they did Not need to. It would have actually hurt then l o l. I was more upset watching a character i actively disliked die than one i loved because of the nonsense.

Stamets and Culber in Discovery deserve better writing... A Clusterfuck. Their cute lil fam is cute now but. But last season was So messed up and shouldn’t have been! Because s1 was messed up and shouldn’t have been. And in s3 it’s like nothing happened. Not super impressed. Poor follow through. For Trek’s Iconique first gay couple they’ve done poorly imo.

This one is kind of cheating b/c i don’t actively ship it probably Because of the shit writing but oh my god, anakin and padme? christensen gets so much shit for his acting but the scripts were so bad they made portman look like a rank amateur so i really don’t blame him in any way. It was kind of an important relationship! It turned out like it was written by an alien who had never met humans before but read a self help book one time. Not good. Bad. No.

This is on the same theme as above because i was Meant to ship it but the writing was so painful i didn’t, but in Angel? Wesley and Fred? Fucking Awful writing that turned Fred into a prize. Kind of. More like a 2 dimensional Thing Wesley Should want instead of you know... the evil woman he was actually in love with. That kind of objectified Fred. It turned into some kind of disturbing morality parade when Wesley wasn’t good enough for Fred when he’s all dark and broody so had to wait till he was all nice and not morally grey anymore and whittle away the time with an evil lady. The writing for wesley x lilah Knew how fucked up it was and therefore wasn’t as bad, the writing for wesley x fred didn’t realise how fucked up it was and was therefore bad. Lilah’s death was dumb but at least she didn’t die actively at the alter of Wes’ tears. It was really just a whedon show being a whedon show for not brining Lilah back for the final season.

Do you mostly ship canon pairings? I’m always most swayed by the ships that have the most content which means i’m usually doomed to ship the will they/won’t they ship. So yes. Not because i think they’re better, i just like having more depth to work with.

Have you ever shipped a pairing before you even started watching the show/movie simply because of gifs and graphics or similar? U made me ship polo girl and the dude from narnia who can’t act. or was it his brother? That fox show rn with michael sheen as a serial killer??? ppl on here have kinda made me ship bellamy young and lou diamond phillips’ characters. There are gifs of soft face touches where she’s shocked somebody is reaching for her kindly but then Melts into it. I am a sucker. What of it? I’ve not watched any of these things, and i don’t plan to, but fan content Did make me ship it.

Have you noticed a pattern in your shipping? Is there a romantic dynamic you’re more drawn to? Asshole emotionally constipated lady and emotionally intelligent partner. Two enemies who fall deeply in love, it will never work, they know it, it goes to hell. They love each other still. It’s about the Tragedy!!!!! Honestly, i like my ships two ways; Healthy adult communication and love Or a burning trash fire of unhealthy habits, violence and bad behavior. I will like the in between casually but if u want me to go nuts on a ship i want the extremes. But there has to be love there. Enemies to enemies with benefits to enemies who are in love but still enemies.

Oh. Also a sucker for requited love that can never be because of The Rules.

Is there a ship you’ve shipped for most of your life? Helga and Arnold. Sam x Jack... Can i say the nanny? Can i say Miss Fine and Mr Sheffield here? I’ve shipped it way longer than i haven’t by this point.

Does shipping come easily to you? yes and no? i am chill abt it and can easily deal with p much any ship a show throws at me and work with it, but to get me properly emotionally invested in a ship is Hard.

Do you need to ship something to really enjoy a movie/book/tv show/comic? Name a couple of fandoms in which you have no ships. i already answered this one but no i don’t need ships tbh i just need good characters in general.

#ladysophiebeckett #ask #meme thingy #the royals thing is Ur Fault

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randombtsprincessa · 5 years ago

Text

Babesitter

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 8.4k

Genre: Smut

Summary: The man babysitting your brother might just be the best homecoming present ever...

Warning: Ditzy Parents, Jungkook being cute with kids, Mentions of a sex toy, Borderline Sexting, Kitchen Blowjobs, first time Deep throating, Commando parties, playing under the dinner table, Oral and fingering, Graphic smut scene, Protected Sex, Dom! Kook

A/N: Happy Birthday, Jungkook, you rabbit that I grudgingly love.

The smooth purr of the car stopped abruptly with your father cutting off the engine, turning to grin at you in the shotgun seat.

“Welcome home, darling. Excited?”

You couldn’t help but grin back at the man. It had been months since you’d seen him last, too busy with graduating your outrageously expensive university to be able to come home for visits. The edges of your old man’s hair were losing their sheen, turning with age yet he was as always beaming and bright.

Time had been very lenient with your father; his looks and his business.

“Yes dad,” you said, enthusiasm pooling into your voice.

You may be an adult now, but you knew your father still saw you as his first-born toddler.

“That’s good, um…” he paused, looking blankly behind him at the suitcases mounted in the backseat, seemingly calculating the number of them with the addition of boxes in the trunk lot.

“Why don’t we go inside first, see your mother, then we can figure out what to do with your luggage?”

You nodded, sliding out of the car after your father as he locked the car, opening the side door of the garage to let you both in.

Heading in, your mother was already waiting for you in the kitchen hallway, an anticipatory smile on her face, breaking out into a squeal at the sight of you.

“Y/N,” she simpered, soft hands cupping your face to pull you in for a hug, your own arms returning the affection automatically.

If your dad was handsome, your mother was beautiful. You knew it must have something to do with them marrying at a very young age, but your parents were in love and you supposed that was enough for them both.

They were the reason why men and sometimes, even women, turned heads to look at you, cooing over your looks but you were nothing if not wary of those compliments.

No, you were going to be mindful and with a head, you’d decided.

No matter that your beauty had gotten you out of several tight holes before.

“Where’s Y/B/N?” You asked, looking up the staircase, wondering if you were going to be accosted with too much laughter and thundering footsteps any second.

“He’s out with his babysitter. We thought we should let you settle in a bit before he pounces on you. He’s missed you.” Your mother patted your face, eyes soon moving away from you towards the living room.

“I’ll get your luggage.” Your dad said, leaving and very soon your mother was gone too, manicured fingers dialing numbers that would occupy her for as long as she wanted.

Well, at least it was a nice homecoming.

You soon ascended the stairs, treading the familiar path to your bedroom, for now a little sparse as you had more or less moved out for university. You critically eyed the stripped bed; you would be placing out the new blue butterfly bed clothes you’d bought last month; that would feel heavenly.

Below, the bustle of your father getting some mover to come over on the phone with your mother chirping in the background was abruptly cut off with a loud crow of laughter and you lightened immediately. A smile tugged at your lips as you closed the door to your room, taking the stairs back down to go meet your younger brother.

Your mother had her front to you in the entrance hall, speaking to a tall, broad backed man who hunched slightly, his hands within reach of the small bundle of excitement gripping onto his long fingers.

You wondered if it was a mover before shaking away the thought. No, your father would deal with that and your brother wouldn’t be so clingy to him.

Even as your rounded the corner to the living room, your brother turned his big, wide eyes to the new arrival, comically screeching when he saw it was you.

“Y/Nie!” He screamed loudly, making your mother and the man jump as you bent down to accept the bouncing boy in your arms.

“Y/B/N, you’ve grown taller.” You smiled large, affection pouring out of your pores as the boy smiled toothily.

“I did, I am a whole 2 feet and…” he trailed off, eyes dropping slightly as he thought of the exact number before giving up, kicking his legs in disappointment before sparking up again.

“Y/N, this is Jungkook! He’s your friend and now he’s my friend too! He babysits me! I like him.” He reached out a stubby small finger to point and you followed it to look at the man, who was beaming in your direction.

You squinted at him, the big front teeth that poked into his lips flaring remembrance of a similar smile, of childhood sand pit meets, of shared lunchboxes before the inevitable parting of ways in high school.

“Jungkook…wait, Jeon Jungkook?”

Your brother was the one who answer, a keening ‘yes’ echoing around you even before the man could open his mouth.

“Yes, Y/N, he’s grown now, isn’t he?” Your mother gushed from behind him. “I was surprised when Y/B/N recognized him, but then we’re friends with his family and Jungkook has been such a help.”

Of course Y/B/N recognized him. The Jeon family was a close friend of your father’s family and you’d been more or less the only kids who saw each other in any form of regularity.

You didn’t remember if you’d ever been genuinely fond of the boy himself and vice versa but he was still your first kindergarten and school friend and he’d been more than enough nice to you.

“Oh now, Mrs. Y/L/N, I haven’t grown that much.” Jungkook scratched his cheek, your mother waving a hand.

“Nonsense, if you were cute then, you’re handsome now. Y/N would agree, wouldn’t you?” Your mother and Jungkook both turned to you and you froze before stammering.

“Uh…yeah, he’s cool.” You coughed.

Jungkook watched you for a second before grinning again. “You’re one to talk, Y/N. You used to be a small brat hanging about the trees with me and now look at you. You’re beautiful.”

You blinked. Did he just indirectly insult you when you’d offered him a compliment? What in the world…

Your brother suddenly stretched himself away from you. “Mom, look at what Jungkook Hyung bought me.” He rushed forward to grab your mother’s hand, dragging her away as they left you and Jungkook alone.

There was a considerable silence as you kept your eye pointed towards the coffee table.

“So…hi,” Jungkook pulled your attention to him.

“Hi,” you replied simply.

Jungkook puffed out his cheeks a little, the light catching onto a small indented scar. You remembered that scar; it had been during middle school, a small mishap in the computer room. Jungkook’s prowess in beating people up had spiked when he’d walked out of the altercation with only that scar.

“So, how was that university of yours?” he asked.

“It was fine. Overpriced as hell, but it was worth it; they actually used the money for what they said they would instead of it going up in flames.” You joked.

“Must’ve been fun, living alone for a bit,” he prompted.

You shrugged. “I missed my family but you know how it is.”

Jungkook nodded. “My mom wouldn’t let me go out of the state. I finished in the city college. The money does go up in flames here.”

There was another pause before he snapped his fingers as if remembering something.

“So, your mom said you had stuff to unpack. You need help with that?”

You swung back a little. “Oh, you don’t need to do that. Thanks though,”

Jungkook shook his head. “I want to help. We can catch up a bit and your dad won’t need to call someone who’ll take ages to do stuff. I mean, how much could it be?”

You bit into your lip, your eyes roving over his sincere posture. He was right. It wasn’t much and movers would only create more hassle.

You settled into a soft smile.

“Alright, I’ll take you up on that.”

Jungkook responded with his own grin, familiar bunny teeth poking out. “I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow.” He nodded at you just as your brother and mom came back, his attention diverting to them.

Jungkook arrived the next day, just as bright and early as he’d promised, leaving you to gape at him a little in his black t-shirt and sweats.

“I’m all ready, captain! Lead the way,” he mocked you a salute as you absent-mindedly waved him inside, guiding him up to your bedroom.

“I wasn’t expecting you to actually show up.” You admitted before opening the door, in your own way apologizing for being clumsy with details.

Jungkook smiled kindly at you, entering your space while casting an inquisitive look around. “It’s fine. Moving is harrying, I know. Man, I haven’t been up here since we were, what, 13, I think.” He slid his hands into his pockets then turned to you.

You rubbed your palms, wondering if your family was bound to come back from their morning workout soon. You hoped not. Your mother had a tendency to hover. She would also wake Y/B/N up.

“Ok, so I already did my clothes and most accessories. I just need help with the furniture covers and old stuff that I’m going to need to sort out and give away.” You pointed to the last three boxes stacked in front of your closet and he nodded, moving to pick them up and placing them on the bed and the other on the desk.

For the next few minutes, both of you busied yourselves with emptying the boxes, Jungkook sorting out a few things and asking your opinion whether you still wanted them or not.

“So, Jungkook, how did you become my brother’s babysitter?” You asked casually as you tossed a photo into the disposal box.

“I met Y/B/N at the store. He’d run off from your mother.” He said, matter-of-factly, making you let out the tiniest snort. “I don’t even know how but he recognized me. I brought him back here but Y/B/N wouldn’t let go so your mom and I had to improvise that I would come back the next day. Well, I wasn’t planning to…but I showed up anyway, for friendship’s sake and well…now here I am,”

“I’m sorry you had to be roped in like that.” You laughed.

“Nah, it’s good. Your parents actually pay me good money for the kid and he’s not all too bad. Kind of reminds me of you, if I’m being honest. Only now, I’m better equipped to handle that kind of behavior. It’s good fun after college.”

“How was your college experience?”

“Okay-ish…I mean, I didn’t go to a fancy ass place but it was a decent exposure. If I need something done at least I can do it myself. How about yourself? Any good stories to tell…?”

You paused, peering up at him suspiciously. “Are you asking me about my love life Jungkook?”

For his part, he looked sheepish, grinning pleasantly as he threw you a wink over his shoulder. “I wasn’t specifically aiming, but now that you mention it…”

“Whoa! Hold it, there…how did we go from unpacking to that?”

“You started it, Y/N.”

You had to let out a smile at the childish remark before reigning it in. “Well, I’m sorry to say but I think my sex life is definitely as exciting as yours probably is.”

Jungkook looked at you, an eyebrow rising to his frumpy hairline. “What makes you think so?” he looked back as he asked the question, softly trailing away before he broke out into a chortle, seemingly amused. “Actually, I think I do ok, compared to you.”

You frowned, turning around completely with your hands on your hips, “What does that mean?”

Warm brown eyes met yours, holding eye contact as Jungkook slowly reached into his box, lifting something that colored your cheeks in mortification. Jungkook continued eyeing you in awkward humor as he tapped the still packaged small blue vibe, complete with its warranty attached to it.

“I’m done with my pile. I was just wondering where you want me to put this.”

“Oh my god,” you gripped the edge of your desk, “put it away!” you ignored the subtle inflection on the word put, trying not to let the handsome curve of his lips embarrass you.

“Gladly, do you have an underwear drawer it needs to go into?” He, of course, spared no subtlety on his words.

You snarled, marching up to him and grabbing the damned package, tossing it to the floor. “I think we’re done here.”

Jungkook’s smirk vanished, as he raised his hands up to surrender and slowly moved to exit your room, propelled every few meters by your shoves.

“Thank you for all your help.” You said curtly, the innocence dripping from his doe eyes blinking up at you thawing you mildly.

“Sure…do you mind if I ask you something?” He laid a hand on the banister.

“Uh…go ahead,”

“Why haven’t you opened the thing? Was it an accidental drunk buy you forgot, or a prank from a friend or something?”

You recoiled slightly. “Why are you asking me about that?”

“I’m curious.”

“Well, it’s just…it was an impulse from when I was still with my ex. We broke up before Valentine’s so it just stayed where it was.” You mumbled, your ears heating at the look Jungkook gave you.

“That’s pitiful for a guy. He definitely didn’t treat you right if you needed to buy that.” He sympathized.

You waited to see if he was going to add on a taunt at the end but he continued to stare at you. “Well, I’m sure I do well on my own, thanks for the concern.”

“Anytime,” Jungkook seemed to understand your dismissal, opening the front door before pausing; the low light of the pale sun hitting his face and exemplifying his cheekbones as he gave you one last cheeky grin.

“I could do much better though. You wouldn’t need a vibrator at all.”

You blinked too fast, trying to process what he’d said as Jungkook winked again, none of the innocence from before visible as he finally pulled the door shut after him, leaving you to gape at the hardwood.

It was two days later that your parents decided to take your brother for an exclusive aquarium trip, with you staying behind out of simple boredom as you switched through the movie selection on your Netflix.

Your family being absent meant you hadn’t heard from Jungkook since the day he had wildly changed your notions of him being an innocent, oversized bunny. No, the quick smirks, eyebrow quirking and all that cheesy wording had managed to find an irritating place into you…specifically your unmentionables.

You grunted as you pushed the laptop away. You weren’t usually the type to get hot and bothered over looks, a connection sought which was why all your exes were just that – exes. Yet, you couldn’t deny the sticky feeling in your thighs, rubbing them over the satin silk of your bed sheets providing zero relief.

A small ‘bing’ lit your dark room as your phone screen lit up, a text notification from an unknown number distracting you as you swiped to open it, immediately dreading the words on them.

[10:34 PM] Unknown: I can’t stop thinking about that little thing I found in the box.

You knew; you knew it was him but you put your thumbs to the keyboard and typed.

[10:34 PM] You: Who’s this?

You trapped the edge of your nail between your teeth, watching the ticks turn blue before bubbles appeared on his side.

[10:35 PM] Unknown: Who else did you have fishing things out of your luggage?

Touché…

[10:35 PM] You: How did you get my number?

You hastily saved his number as he replied.

[10:35 PM] Jungkook: I have my sources…so, what did you do with it?

[10:36 PM] You: I threw it out.

[10:36 PM] Jungkook: Liar…it’s still in your room. Maybe in that underwear drawer I asked about…or were you using it already?

You rolled your eyes, trying not to glance at the package that nestled in the folds of your squashy chair. You’d have felt guilty, however the way Jungkook put it he was enjoying the tease.

[10:37 PM] You: You wish Jungkook.

It took a minute for him to reply, as if he was thinking through what he was going to say to you.

[10:38 PM] Jungkook: I do actually...

If you were a better person, you’d have dropped the conversation right there. You’d tell him that it was inappropriate for you to be doing this with him, that whatever attraction you’d garnered for him after seeing him after a long time was just nothing that needed to be acted upon. You’d probably forget and try to move on.

However, you were none of these things. No, you weren’t going to deny yourself the smirk that was brought to your lips, the satisfaction that he was the one to reach out first, clearly interested and all too willing.

Another pop-up message brought your attention back to the text.

[10:39 PM] Jungkook: Hope I didn’t offend you…honestly I’m a little jealous of it even if you say you didn’t use it.

[10:39 PM] You: Is that so?

[10:40 PM] Jungkook: I meant it when I said I could do so much better. You wouldn’t need that vibe at all, I promise.

[10:40 PM] Jungkook: That’s all about you talking, though, isn’t it? Why should I believe you?

You leant back on your comfortable pillows, trying not to let your fingers drift over your body as you waited for a reply. Seconds passed as the ticks remained blue…turning to a whole minute, then two…worrying you that maybe you had taken the tease too far, offended him in turn. After all, a guy never liked having his so called sexual prowess questioned.

You had just about given up on getting a reply when a sudden bing rang again.

[10:44 PM] Jungkook: Don’t believe me now, I wouldn’t blame you…but I don’t want you questioning me again once I’ve made you come enough times that you forget your name. It’s just a matter of when. Have sweet dreams tonight.

You opened your mouth, a loud ‘huh’ escaping you involuntarily. This just seemed like the kind of text a boy would send before hightailing it out of your way. You rolled your eyes hard at the corny ‘make you forget your name’ line even though it made your stomach clench, imagining his face hovering over you, the long fingers that had expertly moved in your things, moving in a very different way…all for you.

“Damn it,” you whispered, your fingers dropping the phone on your nightstand as you began to wiggle out of your pajama shorts, seeking a much needed relief from the heavy feeling in your thighs.

The text conversation had all but left your mind, leaving a haze of delight on your mind for the next few days as you strolled through the mall near your home.

Jungkook had come over for your brother a few times but had never let his gaze settle on you for longer than necessary. You didn’t know if it was to rile you up or because he didn’t want your mother and brother to feel suspicious of the changed dynamic between two childhood friends.

All you knew was that the retail therapy you were currently engaging in was definitely not due to the test he was putting you through. Nope, not at all…

Loud boisterous laughter echoed around you from school kids enjoying a break, teen girls walking around buried in the latest gossip or some who were out with their parents, seeming mellower. All familiar sights; calming and serene as you stopped in front of a store, looking critically at the black cut dress on the mannequin.

Now that was something you could wear…

You glanced at your purse, feeling your card burning as it pleaded to be put to use but you’d come with no intentions of buying…

You glanced at the dress again.

“Y/N, wow, hey,”

You turned on your spot, seeing three boys approach you, the tallest of the trio to have addressed you. You looked over them in confusion before stopping, eyes twitching barely as you caught Jeon Jungkook, reaching you last, hands in his pockets again but no hint of his innocent doe eyes anywhere.

No, his eyes were hooded, peering at you with his head tilted back just slightly, as if you were an antique he was evaluating.

You looked away quickly, turning your attention to the tall boy who’d called at you, your mind sifting through memories.

“Taehyung,” you smiled, looking beside him, “and Jimin; wow you guys grew up too.”

The man gave you a wide grin, looking at Jimin. “I wouldn’t say that about this one; you didn’t hang with us in high school but trust me, he hasn’t grown an inch since the 11th grade.”

Seeing Jimin’s smile falter before he scowled and smacked Taehyung’s shoulder made you laugh, not looking at Jungkook when he didn’t even greet you. “Yah, I’m not that short, you asshole.”

“Whatever you say, short stack,” Taehyung turned to you. “Are you back here for good then?”

You nodded. “Yep, well settled and everything.”

“That’s good; we finished our degrees a while ago so we’re already working. Tae here is the receptionist at the art gallery and I’m the assistant dance teacher at the studio. You should stop by someday.” Jimin offered.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing you guys, you really did great.” You batted your lashes just so.

Were you flirting? Not exactly, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t be just extra nice to people you’d known a long time ago. Unless of course you were trying to show Jungkook that you could help yourself just as easily.

You glanced one last time at Jungkook, seeing his eyes on you for the whole time, unblinking and hard.

“Well guys, I’ve got to run, but I will definitely call on you.” You returned their waves as you gracefully slid between them, finally pulling the big gun.

“Oh and Jimin, don’t worry, I’m sure you grew up big.” You winked, taking pleasure when Jimin went bright red and Taehyung actually choked. You didn’t glance at Jungkook as you turned and strutted away.

Check and mate, sucker.

It was when you were in the car, of course that Jungkook made his own move. The call was accepted hesitantly, wondering what he had to say.

“I hope you had fun, beautiful, laying it on so thick for my buddies.”

You raised your eyebrows. “What, now you’re jealous of your friends too? You know, you should really do something about that.”

“Oh I will, don’t you worry. I made a promise, after all. Stay home tonight.”

Jungkook hung up abruptly, leaving you staring to the front in dawning apprehension.

You didn’t know how you’d end up like this, you really didn’t.

You’d followed Jungkook’s instruction, staying in; it wasn’t like you really had somewhere pressing to be. Your father and mother were at home, your brother was home and then Jungkook had been at home too, watching the Toy Story series with your brother while holding a conversation with your parents about sports and his hobbies simultaneously.

You’d sat on the farthest armchair, your legs folded underneath you as you’d stared at Jungkook from your periphery. He had entered the room, taking his place next to your brother without much attention given to you aside from a too cheerful ‘hey Y/N’, deeply interested in whatever your mother was saying.

You felt pathetic, eyeing him in hopes that he would, you don’t know, would do something, anything, give some sort of indication that the game he was playing with you was going to be continued to something tonight.

Finally, you’d huffed, getting to your feet to go to the kitchen, your back turned to the entrance to quench your thirst when you’d felt fingers slinking up your free arm, head whipping about to catch Jungkook leaning to your ear.

“Frustrated, are we?”

“No, why?” you’d replied too quickly, his chuckle vibrating against the thrum of your own pulse. He turned you gently, your eyes meeting his. He dipped his head a little.

“You can say it, Y/N. I don’t mind. I wouldn’t lie and tell you that I haven’t been hard ever since I walked in to see you in these shorts. Really bold, wearing those when you knew I’d be here.”

You couldn’t help it. Your eyes flew to the crotch of his jeans, making him snort.

“God, you’re so eager.” He pushed himself against you, knee knocking against your own to get it out of his way as he let you feel his own eagerness. Sure enough, he was sporting a semi that was only hardening against your hot pink shorts.

“What should we do about that, hmm?”

You only stared over his shoulder, praying that no one would walk in to see you pressed up against the sink, Jungkook completely wedged between your legs as he whispered filth in your ear. Your fingers tightened against the edge of the counter.

“Come here.” he said suddenly, pulling you to the island, eyes moving to the kitchen entrance as well as he pushed you down to your knees, out of the sight of anyone who would come in.

“What are you doing?” You hissed up at him, watching his finger drift to his zipper as he tugged it down.

“Letting you take care of my problem. Isn’t that what you wanted?” he smirked down at you, one eyebrow raised in challenge as he waited, to see if you would refute and back out.

The hell you would…

“Oh right, of course, someone like you would need your dick sucked to feel validated.”

You enjoyed the split second in which his eyes narrowed, lips turning down in annoyance before your hands were moving, slipping to his belt buckle and undoing it, the ends falling away to let you open the button, your mouth dropping open.

Jungkook had gone commando.

“I see you like sucking dick to make a man feel validated as well.” Jungkook retorted, his voice clipped but you could feel the proud smirk aimed at you when his dick, now good and hard fell out almost immediately when you spread his jeans a bit.

He placed his palms on the island, his tall frame hunkering so that his shaft lined up with your lips.

“Only you,” you whispered before pressing a soft kiss to the head, the length bobbing a little as it twitched in reaction.

“I don’t know about you, beautiful but we’ve got to hurry this up. Your family is still out there.” He breathed eyes now wide as he watched you while his ears stayed outside.

You hummed in reply; your eyes on him as you opened your mouth slowly, placing him on your tongue. It tasted salty and while the head itself stretched the seal of your mouth, you knew it was only because of lack of practice. You trusted Jungkook to be careful.

You close your eyes when the contact became too much, the weight of Jungkook’s gaze only beating that of his cock that now lay snug in the crevice of your mouth.

“Fuck, baby, you haven’t used your mouth much, have you?” he asked finally.

You pop him out immediately, turning a scowl up at him but he chuckled reassuringly. “I’m not being an ass. I’m just grateful you’re letting me do this.”

“I’m not letting you do anything. I’m doing this because I want to do this.” You said. You diverted attention to his length in your hand, stroking up from the base, feeling his veins come to bulge before a translucent drip appeared at the tip.

“Fuck then, that’s just hotter.” He let out a low groan when you suck him in again, letting him in as much as you could before the passage of your throat constricted.

“Ah fuck,” he hissed, one hand rubbing at his thigh before landing on your head. “I really want to let you do this on your own but we don’t have much time, Y/N.” He warned again.

You glanced around the corner before up at him. “Then you do it.”

Jungkook’s eyes flew open, wide at you. “Say what?”

You smirked, encasing his wrist to shift his hand in your hair, curling his fingers to grasp a bunch. “You do it.”

Jungkook waited a full second, eyes studying your expression before returning a wicked smirk of his own. “Jesus, you’re nasty.”

His hold tightened in your hair, your mouth pushed open roughly as he shoved himself in your mouth again, stopping when he felt you clamp on him.

“Can I deep throat you? Would you be ok with that?” he asked. His voice had gone low, husky and barely choked.

You whimpered around him, knowing it would be rough for a while but nodding anyway.

“I’ll be gentle, just hit my leg if it gets too much.” He promised, giving you a chance to prepare as he pulled out completely.

You took in a deep breath, before loosening your jaw and letting your mouth open. Jungkook, as promised, went slow, pushing in till your limit, eyes fixed on your face as he maintained eye contact, all the while pressing forward, past the set of your teeth, your uvula and then slipping into the cavern of your throat.

You choked, making him pull out immediately as you pumped him, the saliva coating him making it easier as he grunted. “Good, you’re doing so well, Y/N. Again…?” he questioned and you almost cried at how considerate he was being.

After a second try, both of you deemed that it was ok for him to start ferociously pumping himself into your mouth. Low grunts filled the space between you as he hunched over you, hand alternating between clutching your hair to stroking it as he praised you in his broken, melodious voice.

“Fucking hell, you feel so good…”

“I can’t wait to feel your pussy.”

“I’m going to make you cum so good on my tongue for this.”

“You nasty girl, you get off on this, don’t you? Any chance that someone will come in to see a sweet girl getting mouth fucked in the kitchen.”

It was this last statement that made you swallow, and Jungkook finally threw his head back, grunts letting way to a soft whine as he finally came, flooding your throat with his come. He muttered a few words that went unnoticed by you as he pulled away almost immediately, letting you settle back.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

You shook your head to show him it was fine as you felt the semen that hadn’t seeped down your throat already pool into your mouth. You stood up on shaky legs, turning on the sink faucet to rinse your mouth and flush out…fluids.

“Hyung!” Jungkook and you both jumped, turning to see a glum looking Y/B/N frowning at Jungkook.

“I’ve been waiting for you for the last fifteen minutes! The movie is nearly ending. Come on!” he crooned with all the tenacity of a child. You were very sure it was longer than fifteen minutes, but you would be loathing confirming it.

“Oh yeah, sorry, we got to talking and didn’t realize. I’m coming!” His voice, previously deep and dripping with lust had gone high, one that he used on your brother only. He went to scoop up the boy, tickling his side as they disappeared from the kitchen, the only remainder of your depravity being the scorching look Jungkook tossed you before turning the corner.

“Mrs. Jeon invited you over for dinner tonight!” Your mother gushed.

You choked on the apple you were slowly chewing, your eyes flying up from the KKT chat to your mother, her hair curled freshly. “I met up with her at our salon and she told me to pass on the news! Isn’t she sweet?”

Or, this is Jungkook’s newest game…

You nodded, not answering as you switched chats to Jungkook’s, foregoing the previous sexy ones and sending new one.

[11:23 AM] You: Dinner at your house…? Ring any bells…?

You watched your mother flutter about in the kitchen a little, opening and closing cabinets before settling on cereals for snacks as Jungkook replied.

[11:26 AM] Jungkook: Uh…yeah, she’s told your mom, didn’t she? She’s been nagging me to put on my best impression forward. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d already done it.

You snorted. You had to agree he’d placed some very good impressions forward.

[11:27 AM] You: So, what do we do?

[11:28 AM] Jungkook: You get all dolled up for me and ready by 8, I’m going to give you a ride to my place and then back ;)

[11:28 AM] You: Classy, Jeon

[11:30 AM] Jungkook: Calm down beautiful, it’s just a dinner. I’ll see you at 8.

Sighing at the impromptu sweetness from him, you got to your feet, tossing the apple core into the trash. “I’m going to prepare for this dinner party.” You told your mother, dropping a kiss to her head when she started about taking you to her salon.

It was as you climbed up to your room that the idea struck you like a bolt. You smiled slowly, deviously.

Jungkook wouldn’t know what hit him.

You were certainly right about Jungkook being thunderstruck when he picked you up. Looking just a notch more dressed up in a tight black shirt and jacket, hands in pockets he chewed the inside of his cheek when you opened the door, leaning against the doorjamb – not being sexy.

Jungkook turned to look at you with an expectant grin before his eyes drooped and jaw slackened as his eyes drifted down your body almost inappropriately.

“Fuck,” you heard his whisper as you called to let your parents know you were leaving and to have fun.

“Your parents are going to be gone again?” He asked, looking deliberately at your face.

You took his proffered hand, swinging it between yourselves as he led you to his car in the driveway. “You know how they are; they have the same interests as Y/B/N. It’s the planetarium tonight. My dad paid to book it for mom and him for the whole night.”

Jungkook looked deep in thought as both of you slid in and he began driving back to his place, his eyes fixed straight ahead until he covered the short distance between your houses.

“So, what have you told your parents?” you asked, running a palm down the skirt of the black dress you’d decided to buy at the mall after all.

“Not much,” he smirked as he knocked on his door.”Your mother spoke enough.”

You’d only managed to let out a reassigned groan as the door opened, revealing a familiar but now older Mrs. Jeon.

“Y/N! Come in, come in, ah, this is so lovely.” She wrapped a delicate armed hug around you as his father made an entrance too, standing beside Jungkook.

You tried to not to let your pained grin show through, catching Jungkook hiding a smile behind his hand as his mother ushered you to the dinner table.

“Supper’s all ready, dear. Here, sit next to Jungkook.” She dumped you on the chair beside Jungkook as both parents took the ends of the table, a server, looking hired for this very purpose began announcing the dishes as he piled them on.

“You said it’s ‘just a dinner’.” You hissed to Jungkook.

“Ah, what can I say? My mother is worse compared to yours. Just go with it. You’ll enjoy this dinner, I promise.” He said, keeping his voice low as he sipped from his water goblet.

You shot him a suspicious look at his promise but it wasn’t until main course that you found out what he was talking about.

The server, his name was Clark as you asked kindly, was plating the delicate pasta when Jungkook barely nudged your knee.

You glanced at him, shifting in your seat to give him more space before he nudged you again, a little harder.

You looked at him, picking up your fork again to see him facing his father, nodding as he muttered about the recent scandal of coaches.

You turned to your food, smiling demurely at Mrs. Jeon talking about how men never changed when a large, warm palm encased your knee, jerking it to the right.

Your fingers stilled, body stiffening as you felt Jungkook’s thumb stroke soothing circles inside your leg. You settled your body back, nearly slumping into the chair, allowing Jungkook more ground as he paused in his conversation with his father to give you a look, hints of amusement glinting deep in his eyes.

He was going to keep his promise and make you enjoy tonight. Who were you to stand in his way?

Straightening, you placed your free hand on his, inching it further up under the skirt as you squirmed, trying to let the dress slink up without anyone noticing.

Jungkook seemed satisfied, helping you by hooking his pinky into the seam of the hem, edging it up till the tip of his fingers brushed your pelvic join, the bare skin where he should’ve felt fabric catching his attention.

He stopped, you noticed him taking a deep breath before turning to his mother, answering her about her latest shopping endeavors, fingers left vague near where you wanted him.

You rolled your eyes, taking the initiative even as you arched just so, pressing your heat against his hand insistently. Jungkook’s eyes shot to yours, narrowing in warning, moving his hand out of your skirt as his palm moved to cup your mound over the slick material of the dress, squeezing deliciously.

He let his thumb brush over the seam of your slit once before he was pulling away completely, bringing that particular thumb up to brush against his lips, expressionless as he emptied his glass.

“Are you done, Y/N? I should really take you home.” The last statement was aimed at his mother.

“Yes, yes of course, do give your parents my best, Y/N. I will see you again very soon, this time with your parents.” Mrs. Jeon waved a hand for Clark to collect your and Jungkook’s plate as she stood up.

“Get back to dinner, mom. I’m driving her back.” Jungkook said, leaving no room for arguments as his hand, that damn hand cupped your elbow, guiding you out of his house and back to the car, shoving you into the passenger seat and climbing into the driver’s.

“What’s your problem? I wanted to take another serving of the pasta.” You grumbled as he stopped abruptly, a little ahead of the road turning to you.

“Show me,” it was a command.

“Show you what?”

“Beautiful, not right now; I want you to show me what you plan to get out of tonight’s game.”

You stared at him for a second, feeling his eyes turn pointedly to the way your skirt had ridden up your thighs. You let your finger hesitantly lower to the hem, raising it barely to give him a peek at what he wanted.

“That’ll do.” He softly whispered, revving the engine again as he turned to your street, slipping into the empty driveway.

“Would you like to come in?” you asked, trying to play coy but giving up pretenses midway when you see him unlatching his seatbelt, eyes already on you.

“Duh,” he laughed, exiting the car after you.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad your parents are going to be out.” He muttered, standing too close to you as you unlocked the door with the spare key, switching on the porch lights.

“Why is that?” you murmured absently.

Jungkook pushed you against the front door, grinning confidently. “Because you’re going to be loud tonight, I’d rather the kid not hear that.”

You snickered, feeling his hands delve into the coat he’s placed over your shoulder, crumpling and throwing it on the couch.

“Is this the part where you make me come so many times that I, what did you say, oh right, ‘forget my own name’?” you teased.

Jungkook walked you further into the house, his fingers undoing cufflinks at his wrist as he eyed you lazily.

“Yes,” he gripped the back of your neck, “We made a deal that you wouldn’t be questioning me after that.”

“Yeah whatever,” you grabbed the lapel of his shirt, fisting it as you pulled him down to you, lips meeting in a fiery kiss that burned hotter at pent up tension exploding around you and Jungkook.

You never actually managed to reach your bedroom, Jungkook deeming it proper to push you up and over the armrest of your favorite couch. Your back arched uncomfortable as you maneuvered yourself while he undid his shirt completely and let it flutter to the floor.

“It’s a very pretty dress. You were eyeing this at the store that day, weren’t you?” he asked, running soft fingers up your legs, hooking under your knees.

“You saw?” Surprise made you prop yourself to stare at him.

“I saw you since the moment you entered the store, Y/N. Tae and Jimin noticed you later and I had to follow.”

“Wow, stalker much?”

“Stalker who is going to be doing this,”

Jungkook pulled your legs up, sliding to the floor fluidly. Latching them over his shoulders, he yanked you towards him by the waist, all the while eyes boring into you defiantly.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked.

What were you going to do, say yes?

“No.”

“Good,”

Jungkook turned his eyes lower, finally focusing on the skin you had deliberately left uncovered for him to explore.

“This dress you’re wearing is so pretty, I don’t want to rip it.” He said. You hummed appreciatively, raising your legs together so he could push off the tight skirt and away before returning their position on his shoulders.

Jungkook pressed his fingers to your core, spreading the lips apart a little so he could flourish his tongue across the swell of your nub, a pause left at the edges to dig in the pink muscle.

You sighed, relaxing in his ministration as he slaved away, increasing and decreasing the pressure he used, the harder strokes he applied to your clit and entrance, jolting your fingers and torso till you were clutching at his hair, trying to press him closer.

“I promised you’d be coming on my tongue and fingers for the kitchen, didn’t I?”

You didn’t have to glance his way to know he was peering up at you with his smug lips glistening and curved. “Well, then get to it,” You encouraged.

The man took it as a challenge, delving back into you with a growl that vibrated through your folds, sparking delectable heat in the depths of your abdomen. A definite warning that he would get what he wanted from your body soon.

Jungkook seemed to be able to tell you were close too, migrating to gently place distracting kitten licks to your now hardened clit, middle finger easing in till it was buried to his knuckles into you.

You grunted, jerking into a ball, your knee slipping off as he clicked his tongue, repositioning your leg, holding it tightly in his free hand as he increased the force of his suckles.

The single finger turned to two, then three curling cleverly into your walls as they sought and found the sweet spot within your writhing body.

The come hither motions of his fingers made you convulse, earning a low groan of approval from Jungkook as he detached his lips from your folds, standing with his fingers lodged deep in you. He maintained lazy motions, stretching out your small orgasm.

“Fuck, beautiful, you good?” Jungkook pulled you upward gently, hands moving to your back, rubbing out any knots that may have formed.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m good.” You reassured before tapping his chin, running your thumb to wipe away the remnants of your arousal from his lips.

“I still remember my name, you know.”

“Not a problem, I’m not done with you yet.”

Jungkook spun you, fingers unclasping the hook and pulling the zipper down till the dress hung loosely around your frame. He bunched the material in his fists, slowly but firmly pushing the stretchy fabric down till it pooled at your ankles before being shoved away somewhere. Splaying large hands across your shoulder, he was pushing you right back over the armrest again, this time on your front.

The plush fabric of the sofa brushed cold against your nipples, hardening them further as you ground your chest into the material, looking for friction. Shame was long forgotten as Jungkook realized what you were doing, bending till his mouth was at your ear.

“Does that feel good? Do you want me to make you come like this, using one of the cushions to grind against your pretty clit? Or do you want my cock in you, pumping till you can’t stand?”

You whimpered, reaching back for his hand. He gave it willingly, letting you guide it so you could press it blatantly to your throbbing mound. You felt him fumbling a bit, getting out of the rest of his clothes and put on the condom.

“Your cock, please,”

“Good girl,” He removed his hand, letting it rest on your ass first, curving with your flesh, kneading it gently before settling on your hips as with the other he ran the head over your tight seam, pushing forward till the tip nestled just inside you, your wall contracting to pull him in further.

“Fuck, beautiful, I can feel you trying to suck me in. Are you being greedy?”

You turned your head to look at him in annoyance. “You really want to play games right now?” you snarled.

Jungkook laughed, deep and freely as he plunged forward, your sentence stuttering out as you felt him settle so deep in you, you could feel him.

You were full of him.

“Oh my - fuck,” You whined in surprise, Jungkook brushing away hair so he could whisper again. “I was being gentle, Y/N.”

“Don’t be; please, Jungkook, don’t be gentle.” You answered, tilting your head to allow him to trail open mouthed hot kisses, sucking into the curve of your shoulder.

“As you wish,”

Jungkook braced himself on his forearms on either side of you, mouth landing on your back as he increased his pace and the strength of his thrusts. His cock, girth and length hit the deepest spots in you, stretching you out in ways your exes had never even managed.

The vibrator fell away from your conscience. You were so tossing it out after tonight.

Jungkook grunted behind you, his thighs, toned and tight pressed against the curve of your ass. Raising himself with one hand, he gripped onto your wrist, pulling it up and around your head, pushing you back against his chest as he cupped a full breast, tweaking at a nipple.

“Fuck I want them in my mouth.” He hissed, slowing and stopping abruptly as he pulled out, leaving you to take in huge gulps of breaths.

Jungkook moved so fast he might as well have been a blur. He moved the discarded clothes to cover the sofa and sat on them, the hand holding your wrist guiding you to sit on top of him.

Both of you hissed as he went deeper into you before stilling. Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, eye closing and throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“I want to make you cum.” You whispered bravely, making his eyes fly open as he gaped up at you.

“Go ahead.” He grinned, letting his hands rest comfortably at your waist as you braced yours on his shoulder, raising yourself up and then down, the sofa letting out a puff sound that made you both chuckle lazily.

You close your eyes, tossing your head back as you tried to set the same pace he had, feeling his length brush over your spot over and over in this position, your warmth convulsing as the signs of another impending orgasm brewed on your horizon.

Jungkook hissed. “Fuck, baby, just like that,” he glanced down, thumb slicking in his mouth as he rubbed it over you clit, stimulating you further, as you rode him hard. His hands kneaded your tits, swollen lips trapping a peak in to his mouth, suckling while his head nuzzled against the soft flesh.

You could feel his satisfied smile like this as you tightened further.

Jungkook finally pulled away with a wet pop, his pants increasing as he cupped your face. “I’m going to cum baby. Where do you want it?”

You whined in heat, mind running hazily as you brought his hands down to your chest. “Here, here, come here,” you breathed loudly.

Jungkook cursed, standing suddenly with you like you weighed nothing before turning around to dump you unceremoniously on the sofa, parting your legs till he was pounding inside again, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead while the heel of his palm dug in your clit. His hips were angled perfectly, battering against your sweet spot until you were screaming, screaming his name, any nonsense that flooded your brain.

You never registered Jungkook pulling away with a furious growl, his large palm jerking over his member roughly until he was releasing all over you, some of his seed landing where you’d wanted him and the other going god knows where.

Oh god…

Jungkook let out a slow exhale, hands landing on the backrest as he leant his weight on it. “Clean up duty,” he muttered pathetically as you lay sprawled out, well sated and oxytocin high.

“It can wait, we have the whole night.” You soothed. Jungkook eyed you fondly as your hand ran warmly over his sweat slick chest.

“At least let me clean you up.” He fetched his boxers while disposing of the rubber - hopefully hiding it well, and running it over your thighs, even swiping at the flyaway strands on his release. “So, I kind of know we did this backwards, but how about I take you out sometime?”

You laughed. “It’s my turn to be babysitted huh?”

Jungkook shrugged, grinning as he held out his hands, helping you stand so you could move to your bedroom.

“So, I still remember my name.”

Jungkook only rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Maybe we can christen the vibe this time.”

Damn.

#smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook #bts #jeon jungkook #bangtan #BTS jungkook

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yeahwellyourface · 4 years ago

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MOVIE REVIEW TIME!! A Little Chaos and Far From The Madding Crowd

I had a Matthias Schoenaerts weekend cause the boy can get it. Both of these movies were already on my list, but when I realized he was in them, they jumped to the top. So, here we go.

A Little Chaos

Available on Netflix. Directed by Alan Rickman. Stars: Kate Winslet, Matthias Schoenaerts, Alan Rickman, Stanley Tucci, Helen McCrory, and Jennifer Ehle

IMDb: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt2639254/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0

This one has been on my list for awhile but I really wasn’t in the mood for a depressing period piece. FYI, it is not a depressing period piece. In fact, the word I think works best for describing it is “cute.” It is not a great film, but it is very enjoyable. I smiled through most of it and then when I turned it off, I realized I was still smiling.

The basic plot is that French king Louis XIV is building Versailles and his head gardener, Andre Le Notre, is hiring different gardeners to do different parts of the whole since it is a whole lotta shit. Against his original idea, he hires Madame Sabine de Barra to create a section of the garden that will basically be an outdoor ballroom. She doesn’t do well at court, but some people still like her, some don’t. Given that there is an actual outdoor ballroom at Versailles, I don’t think I’m giving anything away by saying that she eventually builds it (although in actuality, it was not built by a woman…unfortunately). But that’s it. It is a very simple little movie. It is full of tropes and could be quite stupid but the amazing cast makes it charming instead.

So, the fantastic cast…everyone is basically doing exactly what you want them to do. Kate Winslet as Sabine de Barra plays a woman who has been through some shit but is gonna get things done her way and it is no use to try and stop her. She is better than you. Just accept it. Matthias Schoenaerts as Andre Le Notre is mainly there to look pretty (difficult with that horrible hair, but he can do it) and worship de Barra as she deserves. Alan Rickman plays Louis XIV because why the fuck not. Stanley Tucci plays the king’s outlandish bisexual brother who adores both his wife and his young lover. He was in the movie for like 10 minutes and was the best thing ever. Seriously, we need to protect Stanley Tucci at all costs. Helen McCrory is Madame Le Notre and is a bad bitch as only she can be. I bow down to her. Jennifer Ehle plays against type as the flighty mistress to the king. I thought I was going to hate her because the character was supposed to be annoying at first, but I ended up loving her too.

So, yeah. Not a movie to go nuts over, but if you are curled up on the couch one afternoon and want something light and sweet, this will do the trick.

Far From The Madding Crowd

Available on Amazon (but you have to pay for it, even with prime). Based on the novel by Thomas Hardy. Directed by Thomas Vinterberg. Stars: Carey Mulligan, Matthias Schoenaerts, Michael Sheen, Tom Sturridge, Juno Temple.

IMDb: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt2935476/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0

This is another one I’ve been considering for awhile. See that bit above where it says “Based on the novel by Thomas Hardy?” Yeah….that’s why I was putting it off. Now, it’s not that I dislike Thomas Hardy. I actually enjoyed Return of the Native…kinda. But his stuff is very much overdramatic, windswept English countryside. And damn, if that is not something that I am always willing to go for. But I’d do it for Matthias Schoenaerts. So I did.

So, here is the basic plot if you’ve never read the book (and I actually haven’t, but I’ve read about it…does that count?)…young woman, Bathsheba Everdene, with a middle-to-upper class education lives with family on a farm because her parents died. She meets a young man, Gabriel Oak, and then enjoy hanging out and working on the farm together. He has land that is almost paid off and a bunch of sheep. Her aunt owns the land that they live on and work. He falls in love and asks her to marry him. She says no, she doesn’t want to get married and be tied down to a husband. Immediately after, their fortunes reverse. He loses all his sheep (and it’s kinda horrible and depressing, so if you need to look away, I understand) and his land. She inherits a pretty nice farm and is no longer dependent on family. He’s wandering looking for work and accidentally stumbles on her new farm and gets a job as a shepherd there.

Now that she is moving among the landed class, she meets the next door neighbor, Mr. Boldwood, who falls in love with her (the way that happens is she plays a prank on him and is generally an asshole and hurts him and damn, woman, wtf, that was mean…but she does apologize). He asks her to marry him. She says she’ll think about it.

Mixed in with this, we see a side story about an army sergeant and his pretty sweetheart, who used to work at the Everdene farm but ran away to be with the guy…never a good move. They were supposed to get married, but she went to the wrong church. By the time she gets to the right church, he thinks she stood him up and has left. She is now destitute since she left her friends and family. This was another scene where I couldn’t bear to watch. I knew what was going to happen and seeing them both so happy getting ready for the wedding just broke my heart, so I fast forwarded. Sue me.

Anyway, army sergeant Frank Troy is now wandering drunk around the countryside brokenhearted and literally runs into Miss Everdene. She thinks he’s cute and decides to meet up with him. He shows off flashy sword moves and then kisses her and pulls a trump and then runs off. Because we do stupid things sometimes, she is completely charmed by him and runs away to marry him.

Now, through all of this, Mr. Oak has worked for her and been there for her and tried to help her and give advice. He points out that she was an asshole to Mr. Boldwood and she gets pissed at him for telling her because she knows she was and she doesn’t want to be told. He knows that Sergeant Troy is an asshole and tries to convince Miss Everdene to stay away from him but she doesn’t.

Literally at her wedding dinner with Sergeant Troy, Miss Everdene (Mrs. Troy now) realizes that she married and asshole. But she’s stuck with him.

If you really want me to tell you the rest in detail, I will. But basically, she has to deal with an asshole husband, a rich neighbor who is still in love with her (and kinda off his rocker about it), and the shepherd who has loved her for years and been there to support her even when she was an asshole to him. I wonder who she will end up with?!?!Okay, now for the movie. It was just okay. Like, I’ve read the first couple chapters of the book and there is SO MUCH INFORMATION that cannot be put into a movie. There is just not enough time. This is the problem with turning a book into a movie. They have to skip so much that they can end up leaving a lot of it flat. We see Miss Everdene be a good person several times. But we also see her be an asshole. I wish we had been able to see her more indepth. But there wasn’t time. I never felt fully connected to her. When she was being good, I liked her. When she was being an asshole, I disliked her. There was no continuity between those feelings. The movie never gave me a chance to feel conflicted over her. It was all surface feelings. Carey Mulligan does a good enough job for what she is given. But the best relationship is between her and her companion. That’s the only string that carries through with that character.

Matthias Schoenaerts is beautiful, of course. He is the solid character that all the others are whirling around. He is a big man, much bigger and taller than Carey Mulligan and Michael Sheen, but you can see how he curls his shoulders down to give the two of them more power as he is lower class than they are. There is a scene between him and Michael Sheen near the end where he straightens Sheen’s tie, and I think that is the only moment between those two where Schoenaerts stands up straight, as for a moment, they are almost equals. However, by the end of the scene, he is curled in again. It’s really interesting on the choices made there. Because when he is not in a position where he is “under” them, when he is working and being damn good at his job, he is standing up straight. It’s fascinating to see the difference between the two sides of this character.

Michael Sheen. Oh goodness, Michael Sheen. He did so much better for this character than this movie deserved. I love this man and he is so good as an actor, but this character is a bit out there. I wonder how much of his bipolarness is in the book. Cause the character is all over the place in the movie. He goes from one extreme to the next. And yes, some of the plot points are definitely from the book, but the in between stuff….is he really like that? So, Sheen does a great job with what he is given, again. But the character is just so weird and again, very little continuity throughout.

Tom Sturridge plays Sergeant Troy. This character is a huge asshole and Tom Sturridge plays him perfectly. If I met Tom Sturridge on the street, I would want to slap him because I hate him. That is a good sign for an actor.

Juno Temple…another one I love. She is slowly becoming a bigger name, but deserves so much more. In this, she plays Fannie, Sergeant Troy’s first sweetheart. He didn’t deserve her. And I love Juno Temple, so she can do no wrong.

Overall, it’s an okay movie. I won’t pay for it again. I rented it and I’m glad I didn’t buy it. But if it comes on tv, I’ll watch it. If you want to watch it, you won’t hate it. But I don’t recommend running out and grabbing it any which way. The cinematography was BEAUTIFUL. The way they used light was lovely.

So, since I mentioned Matthias Schoenaerts as my reason for going ahead and watching these, lemme talk about my feelings for him in these. He is very strange. Watching interviews with him and seeing his artwork, he seems to be a ball of chaotic energy, but in both of these movies, he is the calm figure that the others bounce around. I watched the beginning of Rust and Bone, but then my internet went out and I wasn’t able to finish it without paying for it again (which I intend to do). And of course, I ADORE The Old Guard. That’s another one where he plays against what seems to be his personality type. I also love The Drop (seriously, one of my all-time favorite movies and if you haven’t seen it, go watch it NOW). That character seems to be a bit more on his level with the chaos, but I hope not with the assholeishness.

Either way, he was stunningly beautiful in these movies. Kate Winslet adored working with him and says that he was so sweet about their sex scene because she was pregnant and felt like shit. His hair is awful in A Little Chaos, but I’ll forgive him, this time.

Anyway, watch A Little Chaos at some point. And I guess you should watch Far From The Madding Crowd at some point too, but don’t pay for it if you don’t have to. Go watch The Old Guard and The Drop RIGHT NOW. Those are much better movies of his. Go watch Rust and Bone and I will watch the rest of it soon.

In A Little Chaos. Seriously....why would they do this with his hair.

And in Far From The Madding Crowd. See....much better. And I see you, dude in the background looking at him. I agree, he is definitely a snack.

#matthias schoenaerts #movie review #a little chaos #far from the madding crowd #long post #something about his face makes me want to sit on it

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mo-nighean-rouge · 5 years ago

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You Can Call Me- IV

About a million years ago, @ianmuyrray asked for “FAKE MARRIED AND PREGNANT DO IT” based on the trope prompt below. This is what you get, friend. Some characters show up that you might like, idk.

I didn’t really know when I would have this ready, but then I caved to some writing peer pressure from @lady-o-ren recently, and asked @whiskynottea and @isitgintimeyet for some beta TLC and here we are.

Modern AU: Inspired by a Fanfiction Trope Mash-up prompt - Bodyguard and secret relationship. A look at the life of Prime Minister Claire Beauchamp behind closed doors.

Previously: Part I | Part II | Part III | AO3 | Masterlist

Claire reached for him, hands trembling as she swept her thumb across the cut under his eye.

He hissed at the contact against the open wound, but couldn’t find the energy to truly mind. He basked in her touch, preserved for him after all.

“Oh, Baby,” her voice wavered.

Before Jamie could answer, Claire went limp in his arms, dead weight held up only by her oxters draped over his elbows.

Part IV

Jamie felt like he was swimming through the thick and sterile air as he strode purposefully down the endless hallway. It wasn’t Claire’s weight in his arms that slowed him, but the hollow agony in his chest each time he glanced down at her still form sprawled in his arms. Her limbs swung uselessly with his hurried gait. He couldn’t even protect her head properly as it thumped against his shoulder.

Murtagh had guided the yacht to shore in only minutes, but time had stretched mercilessly ahead as Jamie waited, exhausting the possibilities to coax a response from Claire.

The back-up officers they had radioed had been waiting on the dock in full force, more than equipped to drag the barely stirring forms of Randall, Wolverton, and their bloody goons into police cars.

“Let’s go,” Jamie had commanded the first unoccupied officer he passed.

“But Agent…” the man had squabbled, eyes darting around for someone of higher authority to disagree.

“Drive, damn ye,” Jamie had insisted. He wouldn’t wait for an ambulance to push through the growing crowd when they had been only streets away from the hospital.

Jamie had ducked into the back of a patrol car with Claire stretched over him, Murtagh having promised to report back once he resolved matters at the scene.

He had patted the perspiration from her face and felt for her weakened pulse as the car’s sirens drowned out the mad thoughts rushing through his head. As his fingers had run through her gnarled curls, they had come into contact with a harsh knot on her head, the swelling worsening as time passed.

Jamie’s rapid thoughts matched the pace of his steps as he finally burst through the last set of doors.

Several faces looked up as they entered the confined space. “Please,” Jamie rasped without taking a new breath.

Registering the pallor of Claire’s countenance, an orderly turned to pull a hospital trolley forward.

Much as he didn’t want to let go of her, Jamie laid Claire delicately on the trolley as the staff around him rolled off questions and phrases he couldn’t process.

“By Christ!” The young man’s eyes widened as he examined Claire’s face while fastening a blood pressure cuff around her bicep.

The nurse taking her vitals followed his gaze, her own face going a shade paler. She stepped to face Jamie as the rest of the party rolled the bed down the hall. She stepped in front of him, her badge reading “Phaedre Cameron, Staff Nurse” prominent.

Jamie allowed an infinitesimal nod as his feet set into motion underneath him. “Alexander Malcolm,” he responded over his shoulder as he made his way past her.

The nurse held him back before his steps could quicken to the pace of the trolley as it carried Claire beyond double doors. “Are you family?” she asked briskly.

“Please,” Jamie said again, barely sparing a glance at her as the attendants pushed his heart away from him. “She carries my child,” he said softly, rising to his toes to keep track of her curls through the miniscule windows as they disappeared further down the hall.

“So you’re her husband?” Her voice returned, warily following his gaze through the glass. She surely had recognized the leader of her country by now, but would know of no such relationship.

Jamie grunted, but did not argue. She wasn’t altogether wrong.

The nurse hesitated, nodding before finally leading him beyond the doors. They caught up with Claire and the other nurses just as they rounded the corner into a secluded area.

She left his side to confer with the doctor leading operations, each stealing glances at Jamie as their conversation grew more serious.

Chaos. Monitors flashing, machines beeping, more wires attached to Claire than he could count. He wished he could touch her, hold her. Was she in pain? Or worse, beyond registering the sensations tethering her to life? He folded sloppily into a nearby chair as his legs gave way.

He yearned for her eyes to fly open and for her to give them all a tongue lashing for focusing on her and not checking on her child.

Christ. The bairn. Jamie pitched forward and put his head between his knees, balancing precariously on the edge of the chair. That she be safe, she and the child.

He fell to his knees and raised his chin to the heavens, the motion around him falling away.

The room held its breath in anticipation, creating a silence broken only by the steady pulsing of the heart monitor.

The beat sounded steady, for all Jamie knew. But after a few minutes it was rivaled by the echo of a faster, fluttering rhythm, nearly stopping Jamie’s own heart.

It was the first time their child had made its presence known. There’d scarcely been time to schedule a scan as of yet, though they had estimated how far along Claire might be.

Taing dhia.

The roomful of people trickled out of the door, leaving only three occupants. Four, Jamie scolded himself absently.

The lead doctor snapped his gloves off and turned to face Jamie as he waited in the corner in agony.

A sheen of perspiration glowed over the man’s dark skin as he drew closer. An easy smile rested on his face. “Alex, is it?”

Jamie’s hand rose instinctively to grasp the other man’s. He nodded, focus not trailing away from the chest rising and falling across the room.

“Joe Abernathy.” The doctor stepped into Jamie’s line of sight to hold his attention.

He tried to take in the news the kind American doctor relayed to him, making sure to nod when appropriate. Everything sounded fine, but he couldn’t allow himself reprieve until she set her eyes upon him once more.

Severe dehydration, he said.

“I can guess how troublesome her morning sickness has been. We’ll get her caught up on fluids and monitor things from there.”

Minor concussion, he said.

“I’m sure you know she’s been knocked around pretty thoroughly, Mr. Malcolm.”

It’s up to her now, he said.

“We’ll have to wait for her to wake up. Their heartbeats are both strong, which is our main concern for now.”

Jamie had done his best to follow along and swallow his emotions, but couldn’t control the sob that escaped him at that simple statement.

Abernathy gripped his shoulder. “You did well, man. We might be telling a different story if not for you.”

As Jamie stood and pulled his chair behind him, the doctor clapped him on the back, then pulled the sleeve of his white coat up to glance at his smartwatch.

“I’m told the Doctors Beauchamp are stuck in parade traffic.” Dr. Abernathy’s finger swiped smoothly across the small screen. “There’s also a small crowd in the waiting room that’s anxious to see the two of you.”

Goistidh. Jamie unlocked his mobile. Eight missed calls from Murtagh. Five from Claire’s assistant, Mary McNab.

“I’ll tell you now, but will also be sure to let the persistent young lady in the waiting room know, that no one on our staff will speak a word.”

Abernathy looked up to meet Jamie’s eye once more, seeming to finally take a closer look at him. “That’s a nasty cut you’ve got there, man.” The doctor gestured toward Jamie’s eye. “I’ll send someone up to see that it gets taken care of.”

Jamie shrugged the doctor off. “‘Tis nothing to fash over.”

“The stitches might help take your mind off things,” Abernathy suggested.

“Dinna want to ‘take my mind off things,’” Jamie mimicked. Another bout of guilt flooded him. “I’m sorry, Doc.” He swallowed deeply. “This is almost more than I can bear, myself.”

Abernathy fixed him with a look. “She was in good hands, Mr. Malcolm. She still is.”

The doctor exited the room and closed the door quietly behind him, leaving only Jamie’s thoughts to fill the silence.

Jamie didn’t spare space between his chair and Claire’s bed. He reached for one of her cold hands and rubbed it between his own.

“Wake up, lass,” he whispered. A surge of feeling rose in his chest. “If ye’ll ever obey anyone in your life, let it be me, now, Claire.” He scrubbed his dirty, scuffed palms across his eyes. “Please, mo chridhe.”

Motion at the door stirred him from his greeting. A blonde blur sped in and hit him squarely in the chest. “Nunkie!”

“Germain Henry!” drilled a stern feminine voice. “Give yer uncle some space.”

Jamie squeezed the toddler against him and ghosted his own lips over his forehead before Marsali swung him up and settled him against the swell of her belly, patting Jamie’s hand soothingly. Her expression became disapproving as she took in the damage to his face.

He looked up as his future brother-in-law squeezed his shoulder as he circled the bed, pulling forward the chair on the other side.

Fergus leaned forward to brush his lips over Claire’s clammy forehead. “Milady,” he whispered, the light French lilt from his university and medical school days in Paris echoing in the sentiment. He gripped her hand with both of his, eyes not leaving her still form.

Jamie’s heart twisted. The moniker had been bestowed on a prim and proper young Claire by Uncle Lamb when she struggled with culture shock during her first trip to the edge of the earth. Soon after she’d gained her bearings, her passion for the world she lived in had established itself, along with her heart for helping its people.

Marsali allowed Germain to roam once more with a warning to ‘nae get underfoot.’ She washed her hands at the corner basin and slipped on a pair of rubber gloves, helping herself to the cotton swabs and peroxide stored in a high cabinet.

Jamie winced at the sting as she swabbed the wound under his eye.

Satisfied, she ruffled his hair and helped herself to the medical chart fastened near the bed. She surveyed the information with her experienced obstetrician’s eye, her observations undetectable until a gasp emitted from her and her gaze landed on Jamie.

He immediately knew what the file had revealed to her, and nodded his permission for her to speak it aloud.

“Did ye know, a bràthair?” Marsali whispered.

Fergus snapped to attention, both his hands still grasping Claire’s.

“Aye.” Jamie breathed, the barest of grins tickling his lips. “She was – is – sae excited to tell ye both at Thursday night supper.” He clapped his hand over his mouth, unable to stifle the sharp intake of air that followed. He met Fergus’s eye. “Ye should know, man, it’s driven her mad to keep it from ye…”

Fergus nodded slowly, stroking Claire’s wrists. Jamie suspected he was seeking her pulse points himself. “She will,” he said firmly. “She’ll tell me.”

Jamie sniffled hard in an attempt to regain his composure. “I’m sorry I didna protect her,” he whispered.

“You have, ye dolt,” Marsali cut in. Her steady hand smoothed the wrinkled bed covering over Claire’s belly where Germain had tugged it, attempting to check on his aunt for himself.

“I met Claire when she was but 15, a gangly wee thing gettin’ in her uncle’s way. She’s always been headstrong and determined. But I’ve never seen her so passionate, so content. Not until ye came along.”

“You couldn’t have expected this,” Fergus added, boosting Germain to his lap.

Marsali’s mobile vibrated.

Jamie could hazard a guess at how many times it had sounded that day based on the weary expression that crossed her face as she answered it.

She began speaking in rapid Gaelic, making it clear who was on the other end of the line. She could give Jenny a clear update without worrying Fergus unnecessarily.

Jamie flinched as he overheard rough translations for ‘still out’ and ‘hard knock to the head.’ She kept their big news to herself for now, and Jamie couldn’t help but imagine the sheer joy that would cross his sister’s face when she heard. Not to mention the bizarre hints he’d heard about their father today. How could he drop something like that on her, especially if it wasn’t true…

But he could puzzle all of that out later. As long as his stubborn lass woke up, all would be well.

The moment Marsali switched back to English, stepping toward the door and whispering into the receiver, Jamie knew she was talking about him and his own haggard appearance. There was no language the women shared that could conceal their worries from him.

As Germain’s impatient questions and complaints of an empty belly increased, Fergus and Marsali finally escorted him out of the room and to the cafeteria, promising to bring something back for Jamie. He doubted he’d have the will to eat it.

And so he was alone with his desperate thoughts once again.

________________________________________

Claire struggled against her heavy eyelids as awareness came back to her. Her immediate line of sight was blurred, and she ached all over. Gone was her torn pantsuit, a starchy white gown in its place. Her sorry state was apparent, almost as if she were taking account of her injuries from outside her own body.

She tried to recount what had happened in the last few hours… days? She had a vague recollection of a gun being drawn and shots firing, and someone going down painfully. Jamie?

Claire jolted at this thought, her vision adjusting to recognize the profile standing at the window across the room from her, with dazzling afternoon light refracting off his cinnamon waves as his head hung low and shoulders drooped. Though she could barely make him out in the shadows, she knew she loved him. He appeared healthy and strong, uninhibited by ballistic injury. So how much of what she remembered was actually real?

Could she trust her own tender feelings, anything besides the pull she felt toward him in spite of the weight of her limbs gluing her to the bed?

Had they truly shared all the things she thought she remembered, or was it all just lovely images her mind her created to comfort her as her body healed?

________________________________________

Jamie lifted the corner of the curtain with just the tips of his fingers. The car park was littered with news vans, camera bulbs flashing as hospital officials created a barrier between the crowd and their front doors. In the hours that had passed since he carried Claire in, it was clearly no longer a secret where the prime minister was recovering, nor how she had fallen victim to betrayal and neglect. He dropped the flimsy material in disgust. Just once, if they would leave her alone…

He barely registered the rustling on the other side of the room, but spun to attention. Claire was moving.

Her head flopped across the pillow as she sniffled, then moaned.

Jamie released a startled cry, just watching in relief as she flexed unused muscles.

Claire stilled, eyes focused on him. She looked awkward and unsure.

He cursed himself for putting distance between them. She should have woken with her hand in his as he watched her closely for any simple comfort he could provide.

Jamie raced back to her side. “Thank Christ,” he whispered, kneeling to adjust the pillow under her as she sat up.

Claire tensed and leaned back into the pillow as their eyes met. Jamie wished he didn’t see it, but there was fear in her expression.

“C—Claire…” he soothed. “It’s over. You’re whole.” His mouth curved into what might have been a smile, but it apparently had no calming effect.

She gulped and took shallow breaths, wild eyes looking anywhere but at him. A panic attack.

Understanding dawned on Jamie. She didn’t remember. Dr. Abernathy’s term returned to him: Concussion. He wondered briefly how bad it would be, whether she would remember him at all. He wouldn’t be able to bear hearing her call him “Alex” or “Agent Malcolm” without a hint of the flirtatious banter or sultry tone of jest that usually accompanied the nicknames.

He couldn’t bear not to know, either.

“Seas, a leannan,” he cooed. He curled his fingers under her jaw. “Breathe with me, mo ghraidh.”

Her eyes locked on his as he spoke the language of his heart. “… Jamie?” Her face lit with hope.

Jamie’s nerves unknotted themselves. “Just me.” His other hand smoothed her tangled curls from her glistening face.

Claire’s breathing slowed as she leaned her cheek into his palm, grimace giving way to peace.

He boosted himself into the bed beside her, relief flowing through him as she curled into him, careful of the IV running between them.

“I’ve been having terrible dreams, I think…” She shook her head. “I was worried I’d dreamt it all.”

“Nay, mo nighean donn.” He kissed the side of her head, her sweaty neck, anywhere he could reach as his palm stroked down her side.

Claire’s hand flew to her middle, features crinkling once more. “Our baby, is everything...?”

“A braw one like ye,” he managed to choke out. “Has a good wee heart, I’ve heard it myself.”

________________________________________

The door squealed open again just as Dr. Abernathy finished setting up the ultrasound machine.

Claire exhaled as her extended family piled through the door.

Amid the bustle of activity in the crowded room, she and Jamie had barely managed to speak discreetly about all that had occurred that day.

Claire had insisted on letting Jamie squeeze her hand as Nurse Cameron had placed five stitches under his right eye. His grip had been mild, but he had let her see him wince as the nurse had tied off the final suture. They had no secrets, and if she could bear a bit of his pain, she would.

She had stroked his curls as he recounted all the possibilities that had raced through his mind at the mere suggestion that Brian Fraser was alive. Much as he wanted to find out for himself, Jamie couldn’t risk investigating if it meant leaving Claire and the baby behind.

His tears had soaked into her gown as he apologized for not suspecting Frank sooner and taking care of the problem himself.

“Shh, shh,” she had whispered. “You had nothing to go on. I can just imagine it, ‘Metropolitan Police Protection Officer breaks into the House of Commons to tackle Home Secretary to the ground.’” She had scratched his stubbled chin. “You’d still be in gaol now.”

Jamie had snorted against her shoulder, shaking with the force of her own laughter. “It’s no’ funny, Claire.”

“Are you quite sure?” she had asked, lips curled. “I’m looking forward to the joy of seeing both those characters put away for awhile.”

“Aye,” he had rasped. “I’ll see to it, a nighean.”

Claire had tilted his chin to lock eyes with him. “We will.”

Jamie had sniffled and nodded firmly, grasping her palm to place a kiss there.

Fergus set Germain at the foot of her hospital bed, but her nephew jumped onto her sore legs instead. “Auntie Bear!” he cried.

She tried to withhold her groan as she gathered him to her. “Gracious, but you’re getting big, my lad.”

Claire got a lovely whiff of his lingering baby scent as her sister-in-law stooped beside her bed and took her face in both hands. “How are ye, a chridhe?”

Claire grasped her hands over Marsali’s. She had never been able to hide anything from the other woman’s intuitive gaze, so she shouldn’t have been surprised when Marsali glanced down then met her eye knowingly. She darted a glance to Jamie, who shrugged helplessly in the midst of feasting on his newly delivered hamburger and chips.

“My wife read your chart,” Fergus’s voice sounded as he closed in on their huddle to ruffle her curls. “Congratulations, ma cherie.”

Claire laughed and took a wonderfully full breath. “I don’t suppose I could have kept it from you for long. You might have been suspicious otherwise when I booked an appointment with you.” She squeezed Marsali’s hand before leaning into Fergus’s arm around her shoulders.

“Alright, Ms. Beauchamp,” Joe interrupted the lovingly chaotic scene.

Claire smiled up at him. In the half hour since he’d walked in to find her conscious, she had already grown to like the young doctor for his wit and gentle manner.

Nurse Cameron gestured that she was ready with the cool gel.

Fergus swept Germain out of her lap as Jamie nestled closer on the edge of her bed, shielding her as she wrestled the thin hospital gown up over her hips.

A few minor adjustments later and Claire’s eyes filled with tears as she watched a tiny form swim on the screen in front of her. She held onto Jamie – perhaps not as tightly as he clutched her – to make sure it still wasn’t a dream.

She had no idea how she’d do it all, but knew she could with the support of those around her.

#You Can Call Me #Claire Beauchamp #Jamie Fraser #Joe Abernathy #Marsali Fraser #Fergus Fraser #Germain Fraser #alternate universe #outlander fanfic #My fic

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