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oliviahallwriting · 2 months ago

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Chapter 20

Tom woke a few hours later to the echo of shoes on linoleum. His first thought was that he was cold, enough that it was difficult to conjure a second thought, and more so to remember where he was. He blinked a few times, only to discover that the hallway was turning in on itself like a kaleidoscope. Not a kaleidoscope, he thought groggily, since the colors were monochrome, various shades of early morning gray.

Someone was walking towards him, Tom realized with a start. He tried to sit up. And failed; it was like his nerves had frozen solid. Well, aside from the shivering; his arms and legs were shaking pretty bad. Regardless of who this dude was, it was good that he was awake to find out. Then again, it’d kind of suck to have gone through all that trouble of sleeping in only a coat in fucking mid-January to get dosed by the first guy to walk down the hallway. So Tom tried his damnedest to get off the bench.

The figure down the hall apparently noticed Tom’s efforts to stand and jumped a little before walking towards him. A man, by the looks of him, Tom noticed distantly. A man carrying two large duffel bags, one in each hand.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there,” he said. “Wait, Tom?”

Now Tom noticed that the guy was familiar. Ah, his sister’s boyfriend. Tyrone? No, idiot. Ty. Ty-something.

“Tyler,” he stated.

“Morning,” Tyler replied. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” The hallway had stopped spinning, at least. Tom leaned against the wall and stood up. His knee crackled from the cold, and his back was stiff and sore.

Tyler, still holding the bags, fumbled for his jacket pocket and held something out to Tom. It took a bit of effort, since he apparently didn’t want to set the heavy-looking duffel bags on the floor.

The motion, innocuous but sudden, sparked something in Tom and he stumbled backward, against the wall. Then he felt a little dumb, since it was only a keyring.

“Geez, you’re jumpy,” Tyler said. “I thought you might want to, you know, open the door, since my hands are full. Lots of glassware in here.”

“You’d be jumpy too, if half the campus was looking for you,” Tom said, and tried one of the keys on the lab door.

“Ah, so I heard,” Tyler said. “What’d you do? Didn’t go to the cops, right?”

“Nah. Picked the wrong time to chat with the prof, I guess.”

Tom glanced away from the door to Tyler, who looked pensive, but not especially confused.

“Maybe Laura tipped her off. I don’t know. She doesn’t know about this place, though.”

“Yep,” Tyler said. “And at least that’s something.”

Tom tried another key, which worked, and opened the third-floor room. It was another science lab, with several counters, sinks, a vent area, and a chalkboard. Unlike the mostly-empty room below that Laura was using, the tables were covered with various chemistry equipment. Ehrlenmeyer flasks, Tom was pleased to remember from the previous semester. Flasks, burets, and test tubes. And, as if the room wasn’t obviously enough in use, there was a coffee station on the professor’s desk, with some coffee pods and mugs. Tom made himself a mug of coffee and took a sip.

Tyler looked horrified. “You didn’t drink from one of those, right?”

“What?”

“I don’t think we rinsed out the precipitate.”

Tom spat out his sip of coffee. “Christ!” he shouted.

Tyler laughed.

“Asshole,” Tom replied. “I can’t believe my sister has such bad taste.”

“And I can’t believe her brother can’t take a joke,” Tyler said. “You need to chill out.”

“Maybe I’d be able to if you let me relax for half a second,” Tom grumbled.

“Fair point,” Tyler said, and, probably to confirm just how fair of a point it was, retreated elsewhere in the room and started to work. It was what Tom would have called “science shit” if it weren’t related to the counteragent, a cause noble enough that he didn’t want to be quite so dismissive.

After several minutes, long enough that Tom had fully consumed his coffee and was starting to daze at the desk, the door opened.

Dr. Florence strode in.

“This was the earliest I could make it,” he said, to Tyler. “Too bad we couldn’t spend the night! I had the feeling that someone was watching our windows last night. Too many people out.”

His composed appearance was gone. Even his disheveled appearance from the last time Tom had talked to him a few days ago was gone, replaced by an almost-comical level of disarray: a few buttons on his coat undone, at least one connected to the wrong buttonhole, deep eye bags suggesting several days of missed sleep, and hair that hadn’t been washed for at least as long. His expression, though, was one of excitement. His eyes sparkled mischievously as he grabbed a lab coat from a hook on the door and started to chat with Tyler. The chatter became a fast-spoken series of directions, which Tyler replied to and added. Statements like “distill” and “sublimation reaction” filled the space.

“So, should I stay here, or what?” Tom asked, when they looked interruptible. At least neither was cradling a too-full test tube or some shit.

The professor jumped, startled, and then smoothed a few wrinkles from his lab coat, dropping his pen in the process.

“Oh, I didn’t see you,” he said. “Pardon my appearance.”

“It’s a look,” Tom replied automatically, and then cringed a little. Man, Jun’s way of speaking was a little too easy to adopt.

“Speaking of which, the whole campus is after you,” Dr. Florence said. “Seems you don’t have many options, though we should be able to finish a few milliliters of the counteragent in a couple hours. And it only took us since Christmas. I apologize for taking your Saturday from you,” he finished breezily.

“You could’ve told me that this was your hideout,” Tom replied. “Or left me a blanket in the hallway or something.”

“Perhaps the latter,” Dr. Florence agreed. “And I told you then that it wasn’t right to let you know anything, which is a point I still stand by.”

He gave Tom a look, but at this point, there had been too many conversations where people told him not to pursue a lead, and he’d gotten pretty good at ignoring them.

“I didn’t know you were working with him on this,” Tom said, deliberately speaking past the professor to Tyler. “What, was it too hard to make or something?”

“Yeah, dude, I’m like, barely on track to graduate with a bachelor’s. Did you think I, what, isolated the proteins and whatever on my own? I lucked into the initial cure and then wasted almost all of it on your family; you’re welcome for that. And his name’s Michael.”

“Thanks,” Dr. Florence said. “I was curious if he’d ever bother to learn my name.”

Tom ignored the slight. “Well, a couple masters’ students made it on their own. I don’t know. I wasn’t in their class.”

Tyler made a little huffing sound and went back to his work with the professor, presumably to make more of their little wonder drug. Tom considered whether or not to make a second cup of coffee, and came to the conclusion that he wasn’t needed for a while, and that a nap sounded excellent. It wasn’t exactly warm in the lab, considering it was six or seven in the morning, but three people’s body heat plus a few appliances and the cup of coffee he’d already consumed meant the temperature was far more bearable than that of the hallway in which he’d spent the night.

When he woke, a steaming cup of noodles sat on the desk in front of him. Dr. Florence had gone somewhere, but Tyler was still in the lab and looked sheepish.

“I, um, didn’t know if you had lunch on hand,” he said.

“You didn’t spike this, right?”

Tyler gave a guilty little smile. “No, no. That was only, uh, that one a one-and-done thing with the punch.” The noodles were all right. Tom tried to savor them; it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. Part of him wanted to go back to his dorm and play Fists of Mayhem; skill-intensive games could reliably take his mind off of whatever was troubling him. But it wasn’t the time. Hell, he couldn’t justify even leaving this boring-ass lab.

“And I only tested the cure on your family because, like, I knew it was safe to drink,” Tyler said. “And I couldn’t leave it at home. My mom was looking through my drawers and all that.”

Tom took another slurp of his noodles. Tyler looked a little defeated and went back to one of the lab stations before returning with a small spray bottle, like the kind preteen girls used for their body sprays. It was filled with something clear.

“Is that it?” Tom asked.

Tyler nodded and took a deep breath. Great, another monologue.

“Okay, so I was arguing with Mike while you were sleeping. He didn’t think you should have any, because if my, uh, if Cynthia caught you her team could figure out what was in it and change their formula, but I thought you’d been through enough and deserved to at least hang out with your friends and partner, uh, boyfriend, and stuff like that. And this is the only one, since the only other sample, currently in my water bottle, can’t leave this lab. Then we’d really struggle to recreate it. And it’s already been difficult; it took weeks to make even this much. So don’t waste it.”

“Oh, that’s actually pretty nice of you,” Tom replied, and pocketed the spray bottle.

“Yeah, sure. It’s effective immediately, by the way, but you knew that. It also prevents further re-inculcation by an hour. Of course, you could tell the person you give this to to not rock the boat and buy bottled water and groceries and stuff, so maybe they don’t get re-dosed. And you probably wouldn’t want them to be on campus much. Too many command stations.”

“What?”

“Yeah, where she has the audio frequency set up. Those under RAIN don’t follow every command; they have to be mediated through a certain audio trace.”

“The bell, right.” “That’s just the induction. The commands have to be given through a microphone or speaker set to a certain frequency. We’ve been too busy to figure out which one.”

Huh, Tom thought. He supposed that would explain why Matt had been totally immovable from his sentry position the night before; the audio stream must have played with some kind of background pitch. Maybe Jun would know. He was in communications; maybe that was what he studied when it wasn’t the marketplace of ideas or some shit.

“Wait,” he said. “So someone else could figure out what frequency she’s using. How long would that take when this goes public? Or corporate, whatever.”

“I’d give it a week at most,” Tyler said.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s almost like this was the most irresponsible idea anyone’s ever had.”

“Yep.”

“I can’t imagine Cynthia thought any of this through,” Tom said with a sigh. “I mean, if we’re coming up with these kinds of devastating issues, I’d imagine we’re leaving out a few.”

“Probably,” Tyler agreed. “Maybe, to her, it’s worth it.”

“But, like, why? Just money? Kinda fucked up.” Tom paused, and tried to articulate himself. “Honestly, I’d imagine that she’d have been pretty loaded anyway, if she could lead a team or whatever.”

“Yeah,” Tyler said. “I’m with you. I doubt it’s just money.” He glanced away, a bit suddenly, and only to fiddle with a micropipette.

“Tyler?” Tom asked.

“Yeah?” Tyler didn’t meet his eyes.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Oh, no, nah,” he stammered. “I just can’t imagine someone would unleash Pandora’s Box without knowing there’s hope on the other side. Right?”

Pretentious bastard.

“I guess I see what you’re saying,” Tom replied, after a moment. He hadn’t heard that myth in a few years.

“All I’m trying to say is that no one’s motivated only by greed.”

“But then what? She could make basically all of society do whatever she wants. Or just one part of it. She was in hypnotherapy, right? Maybe she’d use it on her clients.”

“Yeah. Listen, Tom?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ll go nuts figuring out why she’s doing what she’s doing. Just, uh, you know. Save your boyfriend and your friends. Above all, don’t get us found out.”

Tom took that as a cue to head for the door. He’d almost escaped the room when Tyler spoke up again.

“Save your boyfriend first. Jun, was it? Don’t let her keep him too long.”

On that note, Tom left.

#writing #novel

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wildklaus · 4 years ago

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Soaked

Summary: taking a bath with Klaus is rarely just taking a bath.

Pairing: Klaus Hargreeves x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: smutty smut stuffs. light choking, reader’s a little dom. it’s literally 99.99% smut. whoops.

please do not read if you are not at least 18 years of age!

A/N: this is my very first TUA fic! hope yall enjoy. feedback is so appreciated!

Settling into the clawfoot tub, you leaned your head back against Klaus’ chest and sighed, the hot water soothing your tight muscles.

“This was such a good idea,” you groaned, shutting your eyes. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a hot bath, and it was so much better than you expected.

Klaus grinned and wrapped his arms lovingly around your stomach. “I told you. Bubble baths are always a good idea, my dear.”

You let out a content hum in agreement, your eyes trained on the bubbles surrounding yours and Klaus’ entwined legs and feet. When was the last time you got to play with bubbles? Probably when you were a kid. The thought makes you smile--Klaus always brought out the kid in you in the very best way. You felt freer when you were with him, like you didn’t have a care in the world, and you didn’t have to worry about what others thought of you. He made you feel more you.

So focused on feeling the bubbles surrounding your skin, you let out a surprised squeak when Klaus suddenly rolled your nipples between his nimble fingers.

“Whoops, didn’t mean to startle you,” Klaus said innocently, fingers still toying with your sensitive buds.

You huffed, smiling. “What are you doing?”

He placed a kiss to the sensitive spot on your neck, and your eyes shut at the welcome contact. “I don’t know what you mean.” His fingers moved from your nipples to grab your breasts, massaging and squeezing gently. You let out a quiet moan, and Klaus groans in response. “I love the sounds you make.”

“I thought we were doing this to relax,” you said, craning your neck to quirk a brow at him.

He smiled mischievously. “We are. But this is like...double relaxation.”

Couldn’t really disagree with that. Reaching your hand around, you gripped the back of his neck and gently pulled him in for a steamy kiss. Your free hand took his and placed it right where you needed him most, and Klaus grinned against your lips.

“Ooh, eager, are we?”

“For you? Always,” you answered honestly.

Klaus hummed happily against your neck and began rubbing slow circles against your clit, and you sagged against him, instant pleasure consuming you. The man was a damn sex god--somehow he always knew exactly where and how to touch you, always hitting juuust the right spot, playing your body like an instrument. Hell, he probably knew you better than yourself. And he was making you feel so good, but you needed more.

"Finger me, please,” you groaned, desperation evident in your voice.

“Y’know,” he whispered in your ear, “I think you might be the one person who’s whinier than me.”

“Shutu--Ooh,” you gasped as two of his fingers slid easily into you. Your hands gripped the sides of the tub, face contorted with pleasure.

“God, Y/N, you’re always so tight,” he groaned, digits pumping in and out of you while his free arm reached across your chest to grab your breast, effectively caging you to him. You loved when he controlled you like this, held onto you with a vice-like grip. You were utterly and completely his.

You could feel his hard length resting against your lower back, and your fingers itched with the need to touch him. Releasing your grip on the side of the tub, you reached behind you and took hold of him, pussy clenching at the guttural noise he made in response.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” he breathed, hips involuntarily bucking up into your hand as you stroked him.

The water was lukewarm now and the bubbles had dissolved, but neither of you cared, the two of you getting each other off the only thing you could focus on. “Klaus, ‘m close,” you panted.

Klaus didn’t let up, his long fingers curling inside you with every thrust, his other hand leaving your breast to continue to rub your clit. Seconds later you let go, shuddering against him with a cry of his name as he worked you through your high.

Panting, you turned in the water to face him, hand on his throbbing cock. You flashed him your best puppy eyes. “Want you to finish inside me, Klaus.”

Klaus threw his head back dramatically with a loud groan. “Do you really even have to ask? Come here.”

You grinned, biting your lip as you straddled his lap. You knew this was about to get messy, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel him inside you, now. You placed your hands on his shoulders as he put himself at your entrance, and you slowly sank down until you were completely full of him. He let out a needy grunt, his forehead falling to rest against yours. He always stretches you so damn good, every time feels like the very first time.

Klaus squeezed your hips in encouragement, and you lifted them before sinking down again, your mouth falling open in ecstasy. The two of you found a rhythm quickly, and in moments the cold water was splashing over the edges, soaking the floor. Neither of you even noticed, enraptured in the feeling of one another.

He grit his teeth and grunted, and you knew he was close. “Baby, who do you belong to?” you groaned in his ear, playfully biting his earlobe.

“You,” he moaned desperately, fingers clutching your hips tight enough to leave bruises.

You immediately placed your hand around his neck and squeezed, and it took everything in Klaus not to finish right then and there. “I’m sorry, what? I can’t hear you.”

Klaus mumbled out a “Jesus Christ,” biting his lip to keep it together as you bounced on him unceremoniously. “You, Y/N, I’m yours!”

You grinned and pressed a sloppy, scorching kiss to his lips. “Then finish.”

Klaus obeyed seconds later, finishing inside you with a needy cry of your name. You rode him through it, only stopping after he collapsed into your arms.

“I love you,” you mumbled quietly, kissing every inch of his skin that you can reach.

He looked up at you with an expression of awe. Even after all this time, he couldn’t believe that someone like you could love someone like him. ��I love you so much, Y/N.”

You placed a loving kiss to his lips before grabbing his hands and helping him stand up with you. “C’mon, let’s get out before we’re prunes.”

You wrapped a towel around him before wrapping one around yourself, and that’s when a loud knock sounded at the door.

“Klaus? Y/N?”

Diego.

You opened the door, and Diego’s shoulders dropped in annoyance at the sight before him. Klaus was behind you, finishing up wrapping a second towel around his head, and your cheeks were flushed. Oh yeah, and there was water everywhere.

“You two are animals, you know that?”

Klaus came up behind you and put his hand on your waist. “And what’s wrong with that, dear brother?”

Diego glared. “What’s wrong is that the kitchen is leaking all over the place from all the water you two spilled on the floors.”

Your eyes widened while Klaus grinned proudly. “It happened that fast?”

Diego shook his head, shrugging. “Old house.” Taking a step back, he eyed you two before pointing. “You two better come clean up the mess.”

Klaus waved his brother off as he shut the door. “Yeah, yeah.” He turned to you, eyes twinkling.

“So, round two?”

#klaus hargreeves #the umbrella academy #tua #tua x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus x reader #the umbrella academy x reader #smut #klaus smut #klaus hargreeves reader insert #klaus hargreeves reader inserts #klaus hargreeves smut #tua smut #the umbrella academy smut

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the-slasher-files · 4 years ago

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Temper, temper - pt 3

INCLUDES BO SINCLAIR ONESHOT

TW: nsfw, rough sex, dirty talk, angst

WORDS: 2069

“BO” You yelled in the living room barely obstructing the sound of breaking glass in the kitchen “BO, STOP”

Again, he was lost, lost somewhere in his uncontrolled rage. Usually your voice would snap him out of the anger, but not tonight. It was a long, long night. Undenounced drifters found the town of Ambrose this afternoon, not knowing their fate by the end of the evening. You were at work in the next town over when you got the text from Bo “Travelers, don’t come home until I text you” That was all you needed to know, he would be killing tonight.

Following his instructions, you waited and waited. Stopping in at a local shitty bar trying to calm your nerves with whiskey and rum, constantly staring at your phone on the counter. The drifters came in around 1 pm and it was now pushing 2 am. No text, no call, no nothing. Worry, guilt and anxiety all formed a pit in your stomach. Usually they were done by now. Was he hurt? or dead? you thought, zoning out on your black phone screen, swirling the brown liquid in your glass.

“You ok lady? Do you want me to call someone for you?” The bartender spoke making you jump. Shaking your head you placed the cash on the bar, gulping the last of the alcohol grimacing at the burn in your throat. Grabbing your phone and purse you hopped into your jeep, checking the messages one last time before pulling away.

Tears were trying to force their way from your eyes as you sped down the pitch black highway. You were so consumed in your thoughts that your body just automatically drove you home.

At the washed out road Lester’s truck was sitting there, as if he was waiting for you. Both you and Lester jumped out of your vehicles, running up to each other. “Lester where is he? I need to know?” your voice breaking

“Now, now you don’t wan’ to go up there,” Lester reckoned, holding your shoulders trying to force you back to your vehicle.

“L-Les please, let me see him” You didn’t care if he was beaten or just raging, you needed to know if he was fine.

“Look, if you go up there... It ain’t pretty, the kills were not clean.. There was a lot of struggle, Bo-” he was cut off from his explanation.

“Bo is what?” you asked quietly trying to control yourself.

“Bo is a mess right now, ragin’ madly.. He is madder than a bull righ’ now... I haven’t seen him like this in a long while” Lester warned you, but could see in your eyes how badly you needed to see him. Bo’s brothers had seen you tame his temper before, so maybe tonight you were the sight for sore eyes he needed.

Lester let you go, running up the dirt path to the hidden town and up to the house. Bo’s truck was sitting outside, the front hood was dented and covered in blood. One of the house windows was newly broken, letting the yelling and clashing out into the cool night air.

So there you were, yelling his name trying to get his attention without getting too close. “BO ENOUGH!” you shouted, finally grabbing his attention. Whipping around with a wild look in his eyes, they were no longer baby blue, they were dark and hardened, this wasn’t the same man that you left this morning.

Bo was covered in a combination of sweat and blood, a few open wounds surrounded his body. His dark hair was dishevelled and formed curls from his dampness. This was a man he had only let you see a handful of times, and yet it was still jarring. Crazed, wild, not man nor beast.

“Baby,” You sweetly spoke to him trying to release him from his anger. Relieved to see him walking around and ok, you could breathe again. Bo’s temper always controlled him and it was something you knew how to handle or at least get him to come down from, but tonight might be different. “Babe,”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He bit back at you, kind of hurting your feelings, you knew it was in rage but it just stung. “I didn’ call you or text you, why’d you come home?”

“I needed you.. I needed to make sure you’re fine-” He cut you off from your easing voice.

“FINE?! Fine? You don’ think I can handle myself?” Bo questioned turning around to knock whatever was on the counter off it with loud smashes and clangs. Anytime he thought you questioned his abilities, especially to protect or take care of himself he lost it.

“Bo that’s not what I meant, you know that... I- I just couldn’t stop thinking about the worst... Like if you were injured or even killed.” It went quiet for a second as he gripped the sides of the sink huffing and puffing. “Bo... baby” Softly talking to him walking to the kitchen, seeing the broken glass all over the floor. Stopping at the doorway, you waited. Waited for him to do something. “look at me Bo, please”

Shooting back his gaze meeting yours, his eyes were still dark and wild. You could tell his mind was working in overdrive, a war between good and evil fought inside his head. One of his biggest fears was hurting or even killing you out of anger. Bo was suddenly hovering over you in the doorway, looking at you like a wolf about to hunt an injured lamb. “Bo” you tried to get him to snap out of himself for a minute.

Reaching his bloody hand up looking like he was going to caress you for a minute, he grabbed your throat instead, pushing you against the doorway almost lifting you. “Christ.. Bo” Clawing at the deep scar tissue on his wrist, trying to not go too hard for fear it will set him off into rage more, remembering his childhood.

With his other arm he grabbed your waist making your legs wrap around his, he growled when you adjusted yourself, grinding against him. “You need to learn how to listen to me... I did not text you... I did not want you here yet,” Bo heaved, pressing himself against you, forcing the doorway uncomfortably into your shoulder blades. “Comin’ home early you get to see this.... this fucking monster” He spoke about himself with a hint of sadness in his voice, trying to break himself of his own anger.

The sentence broke your heart, but before you could dwell on it his large hand came off your throat and carried you to the pool table in the middle of the living room. Trying to recover your breathing from his hand, Bo placed you on your back with your head lazily hanging off the wooden edge, knowing what was coming you just prayed Vincent and Lester would not walk into the house, or hear your impending screams of pleasure and Bo’s dirty talk.

Quickly Bo undid his belt and opened his blood covered mechanic pants letting his half hard cock free and immediately roughly forced it into your mouth, moaning as he did it. “Fuuuck.. what a good girl” Bo snatched your hands that were trying to grip onto something, letting you clench his forearm and numb wrist as he thrusted in and out of your mouth. His other hand trailed down to your jeans, unbuttoning them and rubbing your increasing wetness.

“All wet for me already... you little slut... getting off on my rage” He growled picking up pace, repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. So incased in lust he didn’t notice the fact your skull was being banged on the solid wood, or the fact that you were making choking noises around his now fully erect member.

Bo looked down seeing the stream of tears coming from your eyes, and the spit that was creating strings along your face. He loved this sight, he could stare at it all day. “You are such a good cock whore” Smirking at the names he called you. Bo always loved to say things that would make a sailor blush, it was just him in this state, all day he would call you angel or baby girl but in this world right now, you were his little fuck toy.

With his hand still teasing you over your underwear, making you a needy mess, Bo suddenly pulled the fabric aside pushing 2 thick fingers inside making you moan loudly on his cock. Precum coated your tongue and his member twitched in warning that he was about to reach his climax. Bo pulled out of your mouth leaving you gasping and coughing.

Your eyes blurred with tears, as you tried to wipe them away you noticed Bo was gone, not standing above you anymore. Once you were ready to ask where he was, he grabbed your ankles from the other side of the pool table making you squeak. Bo pulled you to the middle of the table ripping off your clothes until you were completely bare, so vulnerable, like prey.

Climbing on top of you, his smell was overwhelming, cigarettes, sweat, and iron. His body was heaving and shaking possibly from the sex or still from his anger. Bo’s eyes were still dark and his body was tense, elbows on either side of your head and he straddled your body, caging you, looking at you like a feast. Kind of making you uncomfortable.

Without warning he thrusted into you letting your back arch so you were chest to chest. “Fuck your cunt is tight... so perfect” Bo sharply inhaled as all of him filled you, touching every place you needed. “You need to be fucked more”

His speed was growing and growing with each thrust, pulling out of you almost fully before ramming back into you, leaving you whimpering and writhing in pleasure under him. “Bo” you cried as his elbows were now digging into your shoulders having his thrusts moved you up, pushing the bones into your muscles. “Ah fuck, Bo”

“Louder” he hoarsely demanded, not in the state of mind to care about what his brothers heard. “I said louder”

“Bo.. BO, please BO” you were so close to your end, the heat coil burning in your stomach

“Let it go you slut... let the whole fuckin’ town hear you” growling against your neck now biting it

“BO” you screamed clenching your walls around his cock making him lose it as well, coating your insides with his seed. You went lifeless on the table. The night had too many emotions and feelings that your body had just given out, as did Bo’s. He rolled next to you, heavy panting filled the room.

Turning your head towards him, observing him, seeing what he was going to want next, but he looked dead tired, he looked almost broken. Bo turned his head meeting your eyes, his baby blues were back and the tension had released throughout his whole body as it shuttered. Your man was back, and he looked sorry.

You reached your small hand over his jaw, wiping away any sweat, blood or dirt from the eventful evening. “Bo.. baby... You are not a monster” recalling back to what he had said in the kitchen 15 minutes before. He just closed his eyes and kissed your hand as it came to his lips.

“You don’t deserve what they did to you.” your free hand gently caressing his closest wrist, rubbing the hard scars of the past. It was hard for him to feel anything there from the damage of the nerves and the tough skin, but he knew what your hand was doing. Your touch and words almost made him tear up, no one was like you, you were his world. The only one that could calm him and save him from himself. Bo left his eyes closed not wanting you to see the salty water trying to escape.

He groaned as he pried himself off the table, his injuries beginning to sting and become sore. Grabbing the blanket off the couch he wrapped you in it and lifted you to bed, placing kisses on your forehead. Pulling you close in bed once he undressed and showered.

“I’m sorry” He quietly spoke “You’re my everything angel”

#FUUUCK #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair imagine #slasher #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #my writing #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #horror #dirty talk

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jj-5656 · 4 years ago

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Five More Minutes With; Diego Hargreeves

A/N: Hey again! Another little imagine I’ve had in the drafts for a while. This came a little later than I thought it would because I have the idiotic and infuriating tendency to not save my work when adding onto drafts. So I had to write half of this shit over again and I was pissed. On another note, there’s a POV change once the reader wakes up, because writing in third person gets annoying and mundane sometimes. Anyways, I know it’s kind of not supposed to happen in writing but...There’s no rules here! Enjoy!!!

*Gif by @sebastianstaan

Diego’s eyes flutter open, blinking quickly in an attempt to get used to the morning light shining through the room’s window. The alarm clock beside him lets him know it’ll sound in twenty minutes. There’s really no point in even setting it, he thinks, because waking up with the sun is just about second nature by now. The habit of waking up this early has been instilled since childhood, so why bother trying to rid of it now? Besides, getting up at dawn means at least half an hour of just laying in bed. Which might be completely mundane and boring if it weren’t for her.

She has a leg thrown over his abdomen and an arm haphazardly splayed across his chest. Her skin is hot, despite only wearing his shirt and some shorts. It’s a bit suffocating, the way she’s rolled practically on top of him during some odd hour of the night and found it comfortable enough to stay there. But Diego doesn’t mind. With her face on his chest, he can adjust himself just right to admire her squished left cheek and pouted lips against his skin.

He glances at the alarm clock one more, letting out a sigh knowing he may as well turn off and get up considering it’ll sound in another seven minutes. He moves his hands the her waist, gently pushing her in an attempt to move her sleeping form off of him. It takes a little effort considering the dead weight from her slumber, but he’s almost moved her enough for him to be able to squirm out from under her. Just a smidge more and-

“Mmmph” Her frustrated huff startles him, but he grins anyway as her long eyelashes begin to flutter open. She rubs her eyes with a yawn, squinting her eyes as she looks up at him with a tired smile.

“Watching me sleep Hargreeves?”

“Can you blame me? Look at you.”

You roll your eyes with a scoff, knowing damn well you look like a hot mess with your curls all over the place.

“Ever the flirt. Are you leaving?” You can’t help but let your smile drop when he nods.

“Gotta get a workout in before I run some errands. But I’ll be back in an hour to shower before then.”

“Errands?” You question through a yawn, narrowing your eyes when he shifts uncomfortably underneath you before he speaks.

“There was a home invasion last night, and I think it might be connected to a break-in from the other wee-”

“Save it Batman, can’t you just sleep in for one morning? It’s Sunday, normal people don’t wake up at the ass crack of dawn on Sundays.”

“Well I’m not normal baby, I’m Batman.”

“Just five more minutes, please Di?” You’re still groggy, but that doesn’t stop your arm reaching up to run your fingers through his bed head, smirking triumphantly when he hums at your touch.

“You’re evil, you know that? You know exactly what you’re doing right now.” He rasps as you giggle, shuffling so you’re back on top of him as you were before. Tracing soft kisses along his jawline, the familiar sensation of his morning stubble soothing you.

“And you haven’t slept past 5:30 since you were born, just rest baby. The gym and the cracked out criminals will still be out there when you wake up.”

“Fine. But j-just five more minutes.” He manages to mumble out as his eyes close, the steady work of your fingers and lips lulling him to sleep before he can hear your response.

“Five more minutes.”

*****************

Diego stirs to the sound of humming and a familiar blend of scents permeating the room. Is that bacon and...pancakes? A surge of panic momentarily floods his senses, anticipating his father’s shout calling him and his siblings to rush to the table for breakfast before morning training.

He’s reminded of his surroundings mere seconds later when he opens his eyes, stretching with a dopey smile as he stares at the woman in front of him. Bare feet pattering around his kitchen as if it’s her own. His shirt on her just covering her shorts, the fabric swaying with her as she moves her hips and bobs her head softly to the music playing through her headphones.

“Shit! Oh, sleeping beauty rises. You know, I’m starting to think you have a staring problem.” She teases as she looks up after knocking a measuring cup on the ground.

“Just taking it all in baby.” She feels her cheeks heat up under his gaze, head propped up in his hand as he lays on his side to admire her. Skin illuminated by the morning light in an angelic golden brown glow.

Y/n opens her mouth to quip back but is interuppted by the mans sudden panic once he glanced at the bedside clock.

“Shit! It’s half past ten, why didn’t you wake me?” He scrambles out of bed as he speaks, hurriedly tugging on the sweats he had discarded the night before. Frantic movements coming to a haunt when a steady hand is placed on his chest.

“Hey, relax. Just sit and have breakfast with me for a bit. Gotham won’t fall apart with a couple hours to fend for itself.” His mind is still racing with things he has to do while she speaks, tasks he’s been meaning to get to for the past week whirling through his head. His troubled thoughts are ceased when her soft lips connect with his.

She’s evil, because he’s melting into her touch when she wraps her arms around him. Deepening the embrace and effectively consuming each and every one of his senses. Pushing against him lightly so his knees hit the back of the mattress so she can settl herself on his lap. Neither pulling away for air as his fingers trace the soft bare skin just under the hem of her shirt.

“Morni-oh! Kinky!” An all too familiar voice calls out as they burst though the doorway. Y/n pulling away with a chuckle as Diego groans.

“Morning Klaus.” She chuckles, not having to turn around to know the eccentric number three has already thrown himself into the armchair by the stairs and made himself comfortable.

“Go away Klaus.” Diego grumbles, frowning when the woman above him dodges his attempt to continue their make out session.

“Seriously, don’t let me interrupt. I’m fine to watch if-Christ on a cracker!” Klaus is interuppted by the whizzing of a blade just barely missing his ear and hitting the wall behind him with a clink.

“Diego! Play nice, I invited him.”

“Yeah Diego, play nice.”

The knife wielding brunette rolls his eyes at Klaus’ childish echo of his girlfriend’s scolding, tugging on her forearm and pulling her back into his lap when she tries to get off of him. She narrows her eyes at his actions, but leans in to place a couple short pecks to his lips nonetheless.

“Again, I hate to interrupt you two horny love birds...But I think the bacon is burning.”

“Son of a bitch!” Y/n scrambles off of Diego, him letting her get fully off his lap this time as she rushes over to turn off the stove. Tossing the contents of the pan into the trash bin and putting on a new batch with an exasperated sigh. Diego hurriedly searches for a shirt while her back is turned, thinking he can sneak out the door whilst she’s distracted.

“Diego Hargreeves, if you leave this room without eating you’ll be a very horny lovebird for the next two weeks.” The woman informs him without looking, Klaus giggling as he ceases his search for a shirt with another groan. The two brothers silently fighting to sit at the head of the small table. Klaus able to dig a bony elbow into Diego’s stomach and sit down as he blows a raspberry at him. Offering his brother’s girlfriend an innocent smile when she turns around with full plates in her hand.

“Eat.” She mumbles to a very grumpy looking Diego as she kisses the corner of his mouth. He sits down with a huff, willing his pink tinged cheeks to return to normal as Klaus smirks beside him.

“Alright, bacon will be a bit late but the waffles and hashbrowns are done. Klaus put more on your plate, when was the last time you had a hot meal?”

“Hmm, I don’t know...What year is it?”

She rolls her eyes, but adds another waffle onto his plate anyway. Smacking his hand and ignoring his cat-like hiss when he tries to scrape the assortment of chopped fruit off his plate.

Diego can’t help but let his heart swell when she ruffles Klaus’ hair as he stubbornly shovels a forkful of strawberries into his mouth.

Even when they give her shit, she truly cares about them. She’s much too good for him, too patient, too kind. He has to take her out more, he thinks. Buy her dinner, a new dress maybe. But all the money in the world wouldn’t be enough to express how he feels about her in this moment. Wearing his shirt, sleeping in his bed, it’s all too much for his heart to handle.

“Take a picture Diego, it’ll last longer.” Klaus teases through a mouthful of waffle, whining when Diego smacks the back of his head at his words. Was he staring at her for that long?

Y/n sits beside him, taking a bite of her food in hopes that it will hide the blush of her cheeks at Klaus’ words.

“Is the food okay?” She inquires when Klaus begins bickering loudly with the wall behind him, Ben no doubt having scolded Klaus for his comment.

“Hmm? Yeah, it’s great. Really good.” Diego rushes out, mind trained on the thought of her always being here instead of staying a few nights a week.

“Good, I presume it’s better than raw eggs and-”

“Doyouwanttomoveinwithme?”

“W-what?” Y/n raises her eyebrows in shock, not sure if she’s heard him right since he’s blurred the words out so fast.

“You know, do you want to stay here. S-sleep here. Not just sometimes, l-like every day. Do you want to move in?” He stutters out, the arguing going on only white noise as he tries to read her facial expressions when processing his words.

“You don’t have to, I-I I’m just saying you’re here a lot and...I like when you’re here. And I w-want you to be here not just sometimes, I want you here all the t-

“Yes, yes I’ll move in with you Di.” She interrupts with a laugh at his rambling. The man no doubt looking and sounding like a nervous wreck at his attempt to find words.

“Cool.” He deadpans, grinning when she giggles more at his change in demeanor. Nerves washing away when she kisses him.

“Now help me with the dishes Hargreeves.”

Maybe sleeping in isn’t so bad after all

#imagines #fanfic #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagines #tua ben #tua s2 #tua fanfic #tua netflix #tua klaus #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy netflix #number two #number three #vanya hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader

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hobbitsetal · 4 years ago

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HOBBS I wanna hear your opinions on the entertainment debate pls

Ahahahaha this brings me joy because @throwaninkpot said the same thing! Ask and you shall receive ;)

So. The entertainment debate. Is it sinful for Christians to consume media, particularly media that is not Christian, or indeed contains offensive content? Harry Potter is a popular target. Pokemon and Dungeons and Dragons had their day in the cross-hairs.

What I’ve seen floating around on Tumblr leapfrogs from “this media contains something I think is antithetical to Biblical teaching” to “THIS IS NOT 500% GOD ALL THE TIME SO IT IS SINNNNN.”

As a writer of poetry and fantasy, I cannot convey to you how immature I find this view. As a Christian raised with a healthy understanding of Christian liberty, I cannot convey to you how disgustingly legalistic this view is. But I am absolutely going to try, because this is important and I have seen beloved friends badgered and bullied into questioning harmless pastimes by these anti-gospel gatekeepers.

First and most key, I do not care what you’re watching, your salvation is not contingent on nor indicated by your media consumption. Your salvation is contingent on the love of God and indicated by Christ’s redemptive work and the work of the Holy Spirit.

Romans 10:9-10 outlines the requirement for salvation nicely: “If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.”

There ya go. If you’re watching Game of Thrones, that doesn’t revoke your Christian card. It doesn’t un-sacrifice Christ.

But mentioning Game of Thrones does beg the question, are there things Christians should not watch? I say yes, and Ephesians and Philippians say yes!

“Now this I say and testify in the Lord, that you must no longer walk as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their minds. They are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them, due to their hardness of heart. They have become callous and have given themselves up to sensuality, greedy to practice every kind of impurity. But that is not the way you learned Christ!— assuming that you have heard about him and were taught in him, as the truth is in Jesus, to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.”

“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.”

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

That’s a giant block of text, so let’s break it down a bit. Before we are saved, sin doesn’t bother us. Sexually explicit materials, foul language, violence, depravity of every kind--we might personally not love it, but there’s no deep-seated moral argument against it.

After we have been saved, the Holy Spirit convicts us and reveals to us through Scripture how God wants us to live. Sex is holy and should be treated as an important thing. Foul language doesn’t build others up, so we shouldn’t use it. Violence is not loving, so we should not be violent.

How does this relate to media?

I would argue that it relates differently for different people, but that the effect of the media you consume on your spiritual life and your relationships with others is your best gauge.

I knew a young man who was deeply affected by music, so he was careful to listen to Christian artists lest he be tempted into sin by immoral lyrics. I don’t have that problem. I can listen to a song and not think more deeply about it than whether it’s a fun beat.

What about books? I do need to be careful here. Some people can read books with suggestive content and skip past those scenes, without temptation or without their imaginations being led astray. I can’t. So I don’t read romance novels. I would not glorify God with this.

TV shows, art, and movies are all similar: how do they affect you personally? I stopped watching the Battlestar Galactica reboot because the language and sexual content convicted me. But I watched The Witcher with my husband--partly because I’m at a different stage in my life and what stumbled me as a single adult is no longer as problematic now that I’m married, and partly because the subtle pro-life themes and the themes of good and evil and objective right and wrong outweigh the objectionable content.

Romans 14, to me, speaks most clearly to this:

“One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord. The one who eats, eats in honor of the Lord, since he gives thanks to God, while the one who abstains, abstains in honor of the Lord and gives thanks to God. For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself. For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living.”

I would not watch certain movies with certain family members, but I would with others. This is not hypocrisy because I don’t pretend that I don’t watch those movies; I make a choice to respect my family’s consciences when they differ from mine.

Were some friends to express dismay that I play Dungeons and Dragons or read Harry Potter, I would explain to them why I’m comfortable with that media, but I wouldn’t shove it in their faces.

~~~

This is dreadfully long already, but I can’t just stop with explaining our liberty in Christ to enjoy media and art.

We are made in the image of God. God is the Great Artist, the Supreme Storyteller, the Maker of Music. We were made to create art, to tell stories, to make music! This is part of how we glorify God! This is what we will spend eternity doing! Do you think Tolkien has stopped writing because he’s in Heaven? or Lewis?

And what is the greatest joy of a creator but sharing? God created us to share Himself with us--not out of need, for He needs nothing, but out of joy and the fullness of His Divine nature! And we, who are needy and who are made to be social in reflection of the Trinity, how much more do we want to share and rejoice in sharing!

As a writer, I love having people read what I write. And conversely, I love hearing my friends’ music and seeing their art.

Those who consume media are taking their rightful place as Audience. Those who create media are taking their rightful place as Sub-Creator.

And those who claim that media is sinful are cramming God into a pitifully tiny box and trying to limit human experience to the blandest existence possible. God did not craft sunsets and constellations and the whole of human history for us to look at each other and say, “Better not enjoy this, it’s probably sinful.”

As Martin Luther allegedly said, “Beer is proof God loves us.”

Enjoy stories. It’s what God created us to do.

#theology #Christianity #Christian liberty #long post #I'M NOT DONE RANTING #I MIGHT JUST WRITE A SEPARATE POST ABOUT STORYTELLING AND GOD #BECAUSE HOT DANG DO I LOVE IT

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thevioletjones · 4 years ago

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34 for prompt list thing! 💖

Thanks! 💜

Prompt 4: “I might never get another chance to say this.”

Now to War

Ian understood why Mickey was still in the closet. That was never really the issue. He was aware of the deeply scary, tyrannical nature of Mickey’s father, and how his horrible ways had left a lasting impression that was hard for him to shake. However, Ian had eventually started to feel a burden that he was frankly sick of bearing.

He’d never asked or expected Mickey to openly date him in front of his own family, but he would've appreciated some kind of quiet commitment where maybe they could at least let Ian’s family in on the secret (Lip already knew, but Mickey didn’t know he knew). Ian’s family had always been supportive when it came to Ian’s orientation. He knew they’d be supportive of Mickey too, even if they didn’t fully understand him, or even like him. They just wanted Ian to be happy.

But Mickey couldn’t even give him that much. He still fucked women to please his dad; still worked as his right-hand man doing illegal shit, instead of forging his own path; still stayed under that disgusting, oppressive thumb with no plans to ever get out from under it. Mickey still just didn’t believe that he could do or be anything different; had resigned himself to this depressing fate of constantly repressing himself for the rest of his life.

Ian just couldn’t stomach it anymore. Part of that was selfish, because yeah, he wanted to have a real relationship that wasn’t full of darkness and drama all the time. But the bigger part of it was about how deeply he cared for Mickey. He hated witnessing what he considered Mickey’s slow demise over a long period of time. If Ian couldn’t convince him that he deserved better, then what exactly was he doing sticking by Mickey’s side? He couldn’t just let himself be a doormat and get treated like shit just because he was in lo—no, he had to stop thinking of it that way.

What was done was done, ancient history style. The last time shit had fallen apart and Mickey had kowtowed to his dad, tossing Ian’s heart in a blender in the process, Ian had ended things. For good. Probably. He was as terrible at staying away from Mickey as Mickey was at staying away from him. He couldn’t even count how many times they’d renounced each other at this point, but he was doing what he could to make it stick.

That’s why Ian had to go and force things to be different now. He couldn’t risk just falling back into the same old toxic pattern with his wayward ex. There were so many good qualities in Mickey that no one else really got to see, but at the end of the day, they couldn’t outweigh the bad enough to strike a fair balance when it came to Ian.

So after much consideration of options, Ian had finally done what he’d always intended, professionally speaking, and signed up for the army.

It had been nearly 8 months now. Basic and AIT had gone well, considering all his years of ROTC, and now he was back home for a brief visit before being deployed for the first time. He was excited to finally be fulfilling his lifelong dream of being active military, but if he said he wasn’t nervous as shit too, he’d be lying. There was a definite fear there in the background of his mind, but he’d always kind of lived for danger in a way. He liked conquering it.

He supposed every soldier went off to war thinking they wouldn’t be one of the ones to die or get severely wounded, and maybe he was an idiot for believing it, but despite that inevitable fear, Ian truly knew he’d be okay. He trusted his instincts and reactions to volatile situations (thanks, Gallagher family trauma), so he had to trust himself. Maybe if he believed in the idea of coming out the other side of combat unscathed enough, he would manifest it.

Still, no matter his sixth sense, there was that feeling of wanting to make sure that he left everything in his life back home in a nice, neat place, just in case he was terribly wrong and never set foot back on American soil again. He needed all of his important relationships to be appropriately cemented. It was easy with his family (well, the siblings portion of it, at least), but Mickey was a whole different story.

Despite having broken it off months ago, the idea of leaving that whole thread hanging felt terrifying. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to feel closure with Mickey, but he had to try. There was a good chance he’d either get mocked, or socked in the face for making overtures, but he had to try anyway.

He felt resolute as he walked toward the Milkovich house, but once it came into view, his insides were consumed with nerves until his gut twisted with the weight of his apprehension.

What if Mickey wasn’t there? What if Terry and a bunch of Mickey’s idiot brothers were laying about? What if Mickey had done the unthinkable and married some random whore so he could pretend he was straight to please his dad? Ian would hope that either Lip or Mandy would’ve informed him of such a development, but since Ian liked to bury things and not talk about them, maybe they’d just decided not to bring it up?

He took a deep breath, muttered, “Fuck it,” to himself, and made his way to the front door. All he could do was try. If Mickey was gone, or had forgotten him, or didn’t care anymore, then he’d just have to accept it and move on.

He gulped thickly as he knocked, hoping that at least Mickey would be the one to answer, and that the ability to form words based on coherent thoughts would manifest as needed.

He steeled himself for whatever might happen, standing with his back straight as an arrow as the door wrenched open.

The moment those ice-blue eyes met his, every single thought flew out of Ian’s head, feeling breathless as blood rushed to his head. Without a doubt, he’d never seen Mickey so surprised before. His ex wasn’t the type to be at a loss for words, but his mouth hung open, and the full irises of his eyes were exposed, eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood there studying each other in silence before Ian gained the courage to speak.

“Hi, Mick.”

“Gallagher.” Clear uncertainty permeated his tone.

“Hope it’s not a bad time. Just wanted to talk to you for a minute?”

Mickey crossed his arms and widened his stance, walls going back up. “Been a long fuckin’ time. What, you find out you got an STD or some shit? Come to do the whole benevolent legal disclosure thing?”

One corner of Ian’s mouth lifted in a sad attempt at amusement. “Nah, nothing like that. Can I come in? Or if someone’s home, we can sit out here I guess.”

Mickey scanned him from head to toe, so Ian took advantage and did the same. “Never known you to come over for a conversation before.”

Ian nodded. “Look, I won’t stay long. I really just have something I need to say. Then, if you never wanna see me again, you won’t. I’d just rather not do it awkwardly standing in the doorway if possible.”

Mickey shrugged and walked into the house, leaving Ian to follow. “Whatever, man. No one else is here right now. Terry’s in the slammer, so he won’t barge in or anything.”

“Cool,” said Ian, closing the door behind him.

Mickey sat down on the couch, but Ian had no idea whether to follow or not. Didn’t know how close to get. He hated feeling so weird around Mickey. In spite of everything, he’d always felt a strange sense of comfort and belonging when they were together. Like he could just be himself. Well, a somewhat ‘withholding of affection’ version of himself, but the rest felt natural.

“You gonna sit the fuck down and spit it out or what?” Mickey demanded.

“Right…” Ian took a seat on the sofa, leaving the entire middle cushion between them. “Uh… I don’t really know where to start now that I’m here.” He chuckled nervously.

“Jesus, Gallagher, you fuckin’ dying or somethin’?”

Ian grimaced, unable to tame that tiny pessimistic molecule inside himself. “No. Well, I hope not. Uh, I enlisted.” He looked up from his lap to gauge Mickey’s reaction, pleased to find his expression slipping into something more serious and less put-upon. “I’ve been away training. Shippin’ out tomorrow. Last night home and all that.”

Mickey exhaled raggedly. “Fuck, Ian. The fuck’d you do that for?”

“You know I’ve always wanted to, Mick. Childhood dream and all that. Finally found a reason to bite the bullet, so to speak.”

Mickey ran a shaky hand over his face, snickering derisively. “Wow. So you came here to tell me you’re runnin’ off to get shot, and that it’s pretty much my fault too? That’s real swell of you, Firecrotch. Real nice.”

Ian shook his head. “That’s not what I’m trying to say at all. It’s not a guilt-trip. I just needed you to know, in case…”

“In case what? You don't come back? You fuckin’ die?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Mickey shot to his feet and started pacing, running his hands through his black hair, and worrying his pink lip. “So what? Now I'm s'posed to lay awake worryin’ about your stupid, army-go-lucky ass every night? That’s not a fuckin’ guilt-trip?”

“No, Mick, it’s not. It’s not really about you, but I couldn’t just leave without seein’ you again. I miss you, okay? I stand by what I did, leaving… still feels like I had to do it… but that doesn’t just turn the feelings off. I thought about you a lot while I was away.”

“Christ, Ian, what are you talkin’ about? Just stop.”

Ian stood up and walked toward Mickey, forcing him to meet his eye without laying a hand on him. “I won’t. Not this time. I might never get another chance to say this, and it would be great if you could just shut the fuck up for once in your life and listen. I don’t care if you have nothing to say to me in return, okay?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, looking very uncomfortable.

“There's a lotta reasons I left,” Ian continued, “but that doesn’t mean that I wanted to, as much as I needed to. You just never let me tell you what I was feeling. Which is fine. I always knew what you were about, and I know why you’re not out. I didn’t want to punish you, I just had to do it for me. Cuz I can’t live like that—”

“Why are you sayin’ all this shit to me now? It’s in the past.”

“I’m just trying to get to the point, fuck. Maybe I’m rambling. I just mean… I know you don’t wanna hear it, but I have to say it just once, and then I’ll go…” Ian took a deep breath, steadying himself for this ridiculous, sincere proclamation. “Mickey Milkovich, I love you. More than anything. And I’ll be thinkin’ about you while I’m over there. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m sure I’ll fade from your mind soon enough, anyway. But I'll remember you. The good stuff, you know? And I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, but now you know.”

Ian smiled dimly and put a hand on Mickey’s shoulder, giving it a short squeeze. “Maybe this was selfish of me,” he added. “It feels good to get it off my chest, though. I hope you get to live your life the way you should one day, Mick. Just, you know… bein’ yourself. Not pretending. Happy; or something close to it. You deserve it.”

Mickey was as still and silent as a statue, probably completely unequipped to deal with all the shit Ian just threw at him, so Ian patted him on the cheek, moving to walk past. Which was fine. He hadn’t expected much more. The point was that Ian had said what he thought and felt, and now he could take that knowledge with him. Hopefully one day, Mickey would get it. Maybe take Ian’s words to heart. Maybe break away and live his truth in some way. And Ian would find his own path too. He was doing what he could to search for it.

He only made it a couple steps, though, before he felt Mickey’s hand slide around his wrist, pulling him back.

“Don’t,” he heard Mickey say softly.

“Don’t what?”

“Just… don’t.”

And then Mickey’s lips were on his for the first time in months, and he couldn’t believe it was happening. His sense memory activated, and he put everything he had into the kiss, in case it was all he got.

It wasn’t all he got, though, because Mickey’s passion matched his own in that moment, and their mutual understanding of each other’s bodies took over. The clothes were coming off before they even made it to the bedroom.

Ian hadn’t expected goodbye sex on his last night in town, but he definitely wasn’t unhappy to receive it… or give it, as it were. What he expected even less than that was Mickey suddenly becoming verbal again.

He was letting him stay the night, and they were practically sharing a pillow, just staring at each other. Not something that had usually been on the menu when they were together.

“Why’d you have to come say all this shit now?” asked Mickey. “When you’re just gonna leave again, maybe for good this time?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“That's not what I mean. I know you’re good at the army bullshit, alright? I’ve seen you shoot. Seen your nerd-ass training. But no one can control bullets and bombs in a war zone, Gallagher. Plus, even if all goes well, you might still settle down somewhere else, right? Go full army life and live full-time on a base somewhere.”

“Are you saying that if I were here you’d want things to be different?”

Mickey sighed, running a thumb over Ian’s cheek in a way that was almost gentle. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Mick—”

“It’s okay. You gotta do what you gotta do. But…”

“But what?”

“Since we’re talkin’ fuckin’ life and death and all that heavy shit… I should say… that I feel it too.”

“Feel what too?”

Mickey rolled his eyes and smacked Ian’s cheek. “You know what.”

“I really don’t,” said Ian, biting his lip with a mixture of anxiety and glee.

Mickey sighed very loudly, huffing and puffing like saying the actual words would kill him. “I…”

“You?”

“God, I hate you. But I love you. I love your stupid, freckly, gingery ass. And I don’t fuckin’ want you to go off to war, okay?”

Ian’s grin stretched across his entire face. “You mean it?”

“No, I'm fuckin’ lyin’, cuz admitting warm and fuzzies is my favorite sarcastic pastime, asshole.”

Ian leaned forward and kissed Mickey tenderly once more. “Will you wait for me?”

“Don’t make me punch you in the face now, dipshit.”

“Will you?”

“Fuck no!”

“Yeah you will.”

“I really won’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Fuck you, Gallagher.”

“I think we can squeeze a few more in.”

“You got the shittiest timing of anyone I’ve ever met.”

Ian shrugged. “Yeah, I know. Gallagher curse.”

“You stupid motherfucker. Better not die.”

When Ian got on the bus the next afternoon, he felt so much lighter. And the future was something that he looked forward to. Whatever came.

#ian x mickey #fanfic #gallavich #fanfiction #asks #answers

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mcybank · 5 years ago

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blitzed (pt. 2)

( rafe cameron x female! reader )

blitzed (pt. 1)

Summary after only a few days, rafe cameron began feeling empty without his now ex-girlfriend, and he was determined to make himself better for her.

Word Count 1.2k

Author’s Note this was so cute to write!! also if you wanna submit any requests for fics then please do so on my ask box!

Only twelve days went by since Rafe indirectly called quits on his relationship with you. Twelve days. That’s what it took for the Rafe Cameron to realise that maybe he isn’t as happy as he claims to be. That’s what it took for Rafe Cameron to realise that what he needed at that moment was a lot more precious than a line of coke or a bottle of bitter alcohol. He needed the girl he had pined over for years. He needed the girl who made him feel like himself again; not some cruel monster who was raised in privilege.

“God forbid, I see you in a state like this again,” Topper said as he walked down the dock with Rafe. The pair were taking a small trip on the boat, weed packed in Topper’s bag and Rafe being empty-handed, contrary to what he liked. “A state like what, Topper?” Questioned Rafe harshly, his tone sounding more passive-aggresive each second.

Topper ignored Rafe’s attitude, already being used to his bittersweet and harsh words, unlike you. “You’re still not over y/n, and for what? She never let you live, she was just hot,” usually Topper’s words about you never bothered Rafe since he knew you were his. Only his. But as soon as the realization hit him that you couldn’t be referred to as Rafe’s girlfriend anymore, his reaction to Topper was rather uncalled for.

He lightly pushed Topper who was walking to his left by his left arm, causing him to fall off the dock and into the cold, shallow water (perfectly resembles him). “Jesus Christ, man. What the fuck was that for?” he exclaimed, his hands running through his wet hair as he tried to warm down by making his way out of the water.

Rafe turned to the opposite direction and away from the boat they were heading to and walked towards the exit. “Don’t talk about her like that,” he said calmly, but loud enough for the boy to hear, who didn’t even question where he was going and just accepted that they aren’t going on the boat today.

“Sarah,” Topper said, huffing on his words due to how fast he ran to reach his house for no reason at all, The blonde hummed in response as she continued scrolling through her phone. “I need your help,” Rafe said, but his younger sister was already preoccupied with her phone. “Sarah!” he said a little louder which caught her attention, she raised her eyebrow in confusion and looked at Rafe, waiting for him to continue.

“How do I get her back?” he questioned, and his question caused Sarah to let out a sigh before putting down her phone. She looked up as though she was pondering about the answer, and it took a whole minute before Rafe broke the silence. “Sarah, I’m not joking. You know her well enough—”

The blonde girl cut her elder brother off in an instant, “Rafe, you know her more than I do. I’m not the one who spent every passing day with her, arranged cute little dates with her, or called her every second he wasn’t with her. Well until you ruined it, but you get my point,” she responded, lowering his voice at the last part, causing Rafe to roll his eyes. “Do what the girl told you to do, she can’t be second priority to fucking coke, Rafe. Show her that she’s more than just somebody you need beside you for the sole purpose of having a girlfriend, because she is,”

And he did exactly that. There was a party at Kelce’s house a few days later, you attended that party looking as stunning as you could, attracting nearly every guy at the place. Even Rafe.

“She’s definitely not going home alone, tonight,” Kelce commented with Rafe and Topper to his sides, Topper remained quiet, he didn’t want to risk it again with Rafe, perhaps he’d push him into the pool clothed or throw his unfinished drink all over him. “She’s not going home with anybody unless it’s me,” Rafe muttered under his breath as he went to you, but not making it obvious that he was following you.

“Funny seeing you here, Rafe. Got some coke in that bag?” you commented, confidence laced in your voice which caused Rafe to come to the realization that you weren’t sober, at all. “Actually, no. I’m clean now,”

You let out a distasteful laugh at his words, thinking he was lying, but in reality, he wasn’t. “Bull-fucking-shit,” you said, walking away from him, but him speeding up his pace so he wouldn’t lose you in the group of people. “You’ve got to hear me out, y/n, pleas—” you didn’t want to. You knew that he was going to beg for forgiveness and you didn’t want to give him that. “The only night I try to let myself loose, you want to ruin it, huh?”

“We can enjoy ourselves, y/n, but together. Like it’s meant to be,” what he said was enough for you to walk away from him even faster, but that didn’t stop him from following you. He kept on saying that he has been clean and he’d do anything for another chance, but you ignored him, that was until he placed his hand on your waist gently, in the way you love, not like he did the night the two of you broke up. You instantly turned around and gazed into his eyes, feeling a burning sensation on the spot he held you, you were longing for his touch for a long time.

“Come with me,” you instructed, as you made your way up to one of the empty rooms at Kelce’s house. You took a seat on the well-made bed and Rafe stood in front of you. His hand reached out asking for you to place yours in his own, and you hesitantly did so; feeling his cold hands against your warm ones caused you to close your eyes for a short second in euphoria and look back up at him.

“I know I fucked up, badly. I know I made a terrible mistake by making you my second priority, and I’ve been beating myself up for it since the next morning I woke up knowing I couldn’t send you the good morning message I always did, or wake up to me holding you in my arms like we planned to. I realised I lost the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m so sorry for making you go through this, making you go through me being the way I was that night.” What made him pause was you squeezing lightly on his hand and making eye contact with him, he could notice the tears in your eyes as well as a tint of red due to the alcohol you had consumed. “Don’t cry, baby, please,” he longed for you to not look at him that way, to not look at him as if he just broke your heart which he did. He sat down on the bed beside you, and patted his lap for you to lay your head on comfortably. And you did so.

His hand ran through your hair, calming you down, but it calmed him down a lot more.

You didn’t want to forgive him, but you craved his touch, in more ways than one, and you couldn’t oblige to not having it. Your mind went into a worse state, thinking about will you really forgive him? Do you want to? What if he does this to you again?

As though he read your mind, he whispered, “Whatever happened that night, it will never repeat itself, and I promise you that, baby,”

“Stop being so fucking irresistible,” you whispered, your hands reaching up to your face to cover the small happiness you were showing. You didn’t know if it was an empty promise or not, but the small smile creeping on your face was enough for Rafe to know what you were thinking.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron #drew #drew starkey #imagine #outer banks imagine #obx #obx netflix #netflix outer banks #jj maybank #rudy pankow #pope heyward #john b #john b routledge #kiara #kiara carrera

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angelsfwrites · 4 years ago

Text

SOMEBODY ELSE | KYLO REN

This prompt was requested by Anon:

I hope you enjoy it, luv xx !!!!!

SOMEBODY ELSE

☆

KYLO REN X READER

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

WARNINGS: Language, mentions of sex, angst, spicy stuff (oops), and little violence. Please, read with caution !

FURIOUS teeth gnawed at your bottom lip as you stood outside of Hux’s quarters. He hadn’t been answering you all day and it was getting really worrying. Normally, Hux was prompt and quick with his responses-when he wasn’t working. Yet, after work shifts had ended, he still hadn’t replied back to you.

You raised your fist to knock on his door, but for some reason, you couldn’t move your hand to actually hit the door. You blew a breath out and prepared yourself to knock; it wasn’t like you’ve never done this before but, for some reason, you were still nervous.

Hux and you had been friends from the moment you stepped foot on the Finalizer. He immediately took a liking to your work drive and motivation; you liked the comfort being around him brought. Every day that passed away from your family was like another rip in your heart, but being around Hux eased that pain a bit. He was like family to you here- an older brother- it was nice to still have some of that comforting air around you.

Naturally, both of you formed a solid bond; nothing would ever be able to break the two of you apart. You spoke on a daily basis and almost at exactly the same time each night. When Hux failed to answer you, a cold tendril of worry shocked your system. So, you found yourself here- at his door with an inability to knock on it. Something was holding you back and you didn’t understand what.

You shook off the anxiety and decided to just knock. Your closed fist laid several sharp, quick knocks to the outside of the door. You blew a breath out and just waited for him to open. ‘I wish he would hurry up,’ you thought as you stood outside of his door. As the seconds passed, your fingers twitched by your side and your right foot was tapping on the ground faster and faster. ‘What if he just doesn’t answer?’ The worry was really eating you up, ‘Oh no, what if something bad happened?’

A soft whirring sound broke you from the grip of your terrible thoughts and you looked up to see a disheveled looking Hux. His hair was completely out of place, his uniform unbuttoned, and his pants were crooked. This was completely odd because Hux never let a single strand of hair fall from its neatly, slicked back spot.

“What are you doing here?” He hissed at you.

Your eyebrows raised as his tone of voice, “Checking on you, nimrod. I haven’t heard from you at all today.”

He rolled his eyes, “Well, as you can see, I’m fine.”

“Mmhm,” you weren’t convinced; everything was too out of place on his person. You pointed up and down his body, “Why do you look like a speeder hit you?”

“A what hit me?” He spoke in a confused tone, “What are you even on about?”

“Hux, you look crazy compared to normal,” He just stared, so you continued, “Your hair is out of place, your pants are off-center, and,” you sent him a pointed look, “Your work uniform is unbuttoned.”

Right as you pointed all that out, a high blush rose on the tops of his cheeks, “I have,” he cleared his throat, “Absolutely no clue what you are talking about.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “I’m sure you don’t. Now, what’s going on with you?” You asked in a suspicious tone of voice. He wasn’t injured and he was acting like his normal dickish self, but there was something off- like he was hiding something. The worry you felt earlier had eased its way into something more like suspicion as to what was behind his closed door.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” He looked like he was sweating now. This is so weird, you didn’t know what was going on with him.

You tried to peak your head around his frame and into the room, but he blocked you, “C’mon, Hux, lemme see.” You moved around and looked again, but this time he pushed you away. You screeched, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He harshly shushed you, “Can you be quiet? It’s past curfew, do you want to get in trouble?” He mocked you with the words.

You just crossed your arms and rolled your eyes, “What is this, elementary school? Just let me have a look and we’ll be good.”

Hux just shook his head, “Go away, you’re being a pest. You came to see if I was okay and I am.”

You stood there and stared at him for a few minutes before you lunged and tried to bust past him. He caught you roughly around your waist and wrestled you to the wall opposite his door. He pinned you by the shoulders there and leaned down, “Leave for Christ’s sake, I’m fine,” He emphasized the word fine when he spoke to you.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” You softened the question a bit.

Hux sighed and nodded his head, “Of course I know that, but right now I’m in the middle of something.”

You just huffed and peered around to his now shut door. On their way back to his face, your eyes caught something placed on the top of his neck, behind his ear. Your mouth pulled into a sly smile as you looked up at him, “What’s that?”

He looked confused so you reached your finger up to poke behind his ear. Suddenly, his face turned completely red and he pushed off the wall, “Go away!” He yelled as he ran right back into his room.

You chuckled and shook your head. ‘Well damn,’ you thought, ‘I didn’t know he had it in him.’ Honestly, you were glad at least he was getting some- it could help improve his mood in the long run. Plus, you could press him for details tomorrow when you both met for breakfast.

You turned away from the wall and walked back in the direction of your quarters. It was late and you desperately needed some sleep; arguing with Hux always made you feel drained. You kept your head down as you walked back in the hope that nobody would stop you, but as you turned the corner away from Hux’s quarters, you bumped into something hard. You quickly looked up to apologize but stopped when you found Kylo above you. He wore a forlorn look in place of his mask when you met his eyes.

“Are you alright, Sir?” You knew better than to press with his name when it was past curfew, he could get you in trouble if he felt like it. The two of you weren’t as close as Hux and you were, but you had a soft spot for him. Hux had told you it was just a silly schoolgirl crush, yet something inside of you told you differently. You’d been completely infatuated by the man since you stepped foot onto First Order soil and the feeling was just as strong as it was that day. Kylo consumed every waking thought- as stupid as it was, you definitely had feelings for him stronger than a crush.

His eyes bore into yours and you were beginning to get uncomfortable. You knew Kylo was a man of very few words, but this was just unnerving. Especially because you had just asked him something and he was just staring like he saw right through you. It didn’t help that he was devastatingly handsome- something you’d noticed the first time you laid eyes on him. His presence commanded the room and you’d drop to your knees if he asked you to; no one was at liberty to deny anything to a man like Kylo.

“Sir?” You asked him again, but this time it was softer than the first.

A few more minutes went by and you were about to just walk away when you heard a deep voice speak, “Kylo.”

“What?” You didn’t understand what he just said to you.

He looked away from you towards the wall on your right, “My name is Kylo.”

“Uh, yes Sir, I know what your name is,” You spoke slowly. Maybe he had taken too many hits to the head with his helmet off and suffered from memory loss. There wasn’t a single person on this ship that didn’t know his name.

Kylo began to look a little annoyed, “No. I’m asking you to call me Kylo,” He regarded you quickly before continuing, “Not Sir.”

That was a confusing request, but you tried to speak confidently, “Alright, Kylo.” He looked so relieved at the sound of his name from your mouth that you were tempted to say it twenty times over. Before you could contemplate that thought, you realized he hadn’t answered your initial question. You asked again, “Are you okay, Kylo?”

His eyes snapped to yours again and he looked surprised. The look on his face made your infatuation grow, but you quickly shoved it down when he opened his mouth to talk, “Yes, I am okay.”

You almost wanted to roll your eyes at the same formal tone that Hux used with you. The officers- and apparently their Supreme Leader- needed to learn some contractions. Not everything had to be so formal, especially if you’re off the clock.

“Well, good night, Kylo,” You really wanted to move away from this intoxicating man and go lay down in bed where you could replay his rough voice to lull you to sleep. However, when you tried to pass, an arm gripped your bicep tightly. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but it was enough to let you know to stop moving.

“Do you love him?”

The question caught you so off guard, a laugh almost slipped out, “What?”

Kylo turned you around to face him and this time his eyes weren’t staring through you but into you, almost like he was trying to grasp your soul and bring it to him, “Do you love him?”

You furrowed your brows and regarded him with confusion, “Who are you talking about?”

He tightened his jam and gripped your arm harder, “Hux. Do you love him?”

It was like the question just wasn’t registering in your mind. What on earth was he talking about?

He seemed to take your silence as a yes- even though that was far from the truth- and turned his eyes away once again, “You love him, don’t you? It’s okay.” He looked completely devastating when he let go of your arm and turned away from you, “Fine, when he comes back, I won’t get in your way.”

You had no clue what Kylo was talking about. Who did you love and why did he look so heartbroken? Your mind was moving 1,000 miles per minute trying to process everything that happened in the span of 10 minutes. None of it was making sense to you; why would Kylo care if you loved anyone and why didn’t he know that you were absolutely infatuated with him? He was the Supreme Leader; his eyes never missed a thing and he analyzed every move made by the people he came in contact with.

You recalled he said something about Hux, but why had Hux come up in the first place? You certainly loved him as a brother; he was family to you. The very thought of being anything more ignited a strong feeling of disgust. Not to mention he’s literally railing some poor girl in his quarters right now that certainly wasn’t you. Kylo said you loved him and of course you did; Hux was your stability here.

Suddenly, it hit you; Kylo must have seen what happened outside of Hux’s quarters and got the wrong idea. You gasped and smacked your hand against your head. ‘Oh my God,’ you thought, ‘This is bad!’ You definitely didn’t love Hux like that and that would never change. The feelings you had for him were on the complete opposite of the ones you held for Kylo. You didn’t love Kylo either, but you definitely could if you spent more time together. Kylo had taken over your dreams and thoughts every single day since you’ve been here and if that wasn’t close to love, you had no idea what was.

You turned in the direction Kylo walked away and started to run. He wasn’t in your sight, probably because you’ve been standing in the same spot trying to process everything. You really weren’t about to let this man leave after confessing he had some sort of feelings for you. You stomped across the floor as you ran- if no one knew you were wandering around, they did now- and your lungs were beginning to ache. You weren’t in the best shape and running was no easy task, but this was important.

You could’ve let out a sigh of relief as you saw Kylo’s figure hastily walking in front of you and you picked up the pace. You must’ve overestimated how far away he was because you went crashing into his back, which took him by surprise causing him to lose his footing. You both went toppling to the floor; you directly on top of his back and him underneath you.

You winced when you saw what position he landed in and began to apologize, “I’m so sorry!” You gasped, “I really need to get my depth perception checked. I think there’s something wrong with me. Honestly, who just-” Your rambling was cut off by a force flipping you down to the floor. A surprised gasp was ripped from your lungs as your back met the cold, hard floor.

“What are you doing?” A harsh voice spoke and you looked up to see Kylo’s angry face. Your mouth just gaped open; no response was coming out of it. This only agitated him further, “When I ask you something, I expect an answer.”

You began stuttering, “I was- I-I just- You s-said-,” He cut your rambling off once again.

“Spit it out,” He pressed your shoulders back into the cold ground.

“You ran away from me.”

The words caused a bewildered look to cross his face- the sight of that was amusing and you began to laugh, “What’re you laughing at?” He grumbled out.

‘Talk about mood swings,’ you thought as you laughed even harder.

Kylo just regarded you with furrowed brows and his mouth turned down, “What?!”

You giggled out, “I’m sorry, it's just your face. That was an expression I didn’t think I’d see on your face.”

He ignored you and asked another question, this time in a much deeper voice, “Why were you running through the halls?”

Your laughter stopped when you realized that the situation had now turned serious, “I was chasing after you, Kylo.”

His face stayed blank when he questioned, “Why?”

“Because you think I’m in love with Hux, which is so far from the truth. You’re like ice cold on that one, Sir.” You said softly.

His body seemed to turn cold at the mention of Hux, “I saw you two.”

You shook your head, “No, you saw part of what happened. I only came by to check on him because I was worried and he wasn’t answering my messages,” he stayed quiet so you continued, “Come to find out he’s been busy nailing some girl all day.” You face wrinkled in disgusted at the image of your best friend having sex.

Kylo didn’t say anything and all he did was just stare down at you. Your body was still pinned underneath his and his hands still kept your shoulders to the ground. He looked frozen and you didn’t know if this position was going to change anytime soon. ‘Oh no,’ you thought, ‘If I get in trouble, I am so flaying Hux alive for this later!’ Your thoughts were getting loud again and your body started to fill with anxiety. This man could be lethal if he wanted to be and you hoped he didn’t turn that power on you.

All of a sudden, two strong hands pulled you up and you found yourself nestled in Kylo’s lap. You heard a thud as Kylo’s back met the wall and your soft hands flew up to his shoulders so you didn’t crash into him again. Your eyes meet deep hazel- swirling with thousands of emotions and you couldn’t identify one. Kylo’s gloved hand raised up to lightly run over your cheek. He softly traveled a path down to your mouth and lightly traced your lips; everything he was doing was casting a spell on you. Suddenly, he pried your mouth open and shoved two leather fingers inside. You squeaked in surprise at the intrusion of his fingers in your mouth but quickly welcomed him. His burning eyes watched you as your lips fit around the fingers to suck. He let you trace his glove with your tongue for a couple of seconds before he withdrew him.

Before you could even whine at the loss of his taste in your mouth, he harshly kissed you. His mouth met yours with such fury that even Hades would’ve been surprised by it. You recovered from the initial shock and kissed him back. Your mouth was only following what Kylo was doing; he definitely had the dominant position in this situation and you certainly weren’t going to fight him.

His hand traveled from your back all the up to the nape of your neck. He grasped at the hair at the bottom of your ponytail and tugged your head back. The tingling sensation of pain made you gasp but the pleasure of it all had you clenching your thighs in anticipation. He took the opportunity of your open mouth to shove his tongue inside and consumed your mouth. Kylo tasted of power and blood; something you never knew you would be hungry for, yet found yourself craving more of it.

You slipped a hand up to travel up his neck, only to be met with Kylo’s free hand pinning both of yours behind your back. He broke away from the hot kiss to whisper hotly against your mouth, “Be a good girl, and don’t touch.” You almost wanted to whine in protest at that, but you stopped yourself and slowly nodded your head. Kylo moved his hand from your wrists and smiled when you saw you were keeping them in the position he put them in, “That’s my good girl.”

His mouth swiftly met yours once again and his tongue slipped inside instantly. Your teeth clacked together when you tried to open your mouth impossibly wide, hungry for his taste. Kylo gave a warning tug at your hair and a quiet moan slipped from your mouth. You hoped he wouldn’t have picked up on that but you weren’t so lucky. He pulled back again and gripped your chin with his free hand, “You like that?” You dazed eyes met his and you sent him a blissed out smile. Kylo just tightened his other hand in your hair and pulled again. This time when he spoke, his voice was right next to your ear, “Answer me, little dove. Do you like it when I pull your hair?”

You didn’t know if you had any voice left in you to speak, but you tried anyway. A broken “Yes” fell from your lips and you cast your eyes downwards.

“That makes me wonder what else you’d like.” He moved his hand away from the hair it was tangled in and slowly wrapped it around your neck. Your eyes widened at the sensation of his fingers digging into the muscles on each side of your neck. He regarded you silently as he squeezed tighter. The pressure he was applying was not enough to cause panic to arise, instead pleasure erupted in every nerve ending your body possessed. He was only cutting off your air to the point where a delicious floaty sensation took over your mind.

“Naughty girl,” He spoke into the skin of your neck. Kylo kept his hand where it was and left a small kiss on your mouth. After a few more seconds, he moved his hand away and you drew in a full breath you didn’t realize you needed. Kylo laughed quietly and then buried his head in the crook of your shoulder where he bit down hard. You loudly gasped and your hands flew up to dig in his hair to tug his mouth away.

Kylo chided you and resisted your attempt to pull him away. Instead, he kissed the mark you were sure he left behind and trailed them up to your ear, “Listen to me; are you listening?” You quickly nodded in confirmation, “I put that there to show everyone who you belong to. No one touches you except for me. Is that clear, dove?”

You breathlessly answered him, “Yes, Kylo; crystal clear.”

He kissed the shell of your ear and drew both hands to rub at your back. As the situation slowly deescalated, you realized where you were. You pushed away from him, but you were quickly caught, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Kylo,” you hissed out, “We are in the middle of a fucking hallway!”

He just raised an eyebrow at your statement- as if to say ‘who cares?’.

“We’re not doing this in the hallway!” You yelled at him.

He kept his hands on your back but leaned in closer to you, “Watch your mouth; we can do whatever wherever I please.”

You poked his chest with your finger, “We’re not having sex in a hallway; are you missing some screws up there?”

He caught your hand and pinned it down on his heart, “Little girl, I’d implore you to watch how you speak to me.”

You just rolled your eyes at his behavior and tried to tug your hand out from under his, “I’d feel a lot better if we were somewhere more private, Kylo. Not somewhere where someone could come walking down here at any minute.”

He thought for a moment before hooking his hands around your thighs and lifting you up with him. The breath was punched from your lungs as he slung you over his shoulder and walked in the direction he was when you crashed into him.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

He bought a gloved hand down on your ass and a squeal left your lips. “Somewhere more private, dove.”

Your lips pulled up at the sound of the pet name; such a weird term of endearment to use for somebody. You lightly pounded his back with his hands and you were sure he could feel you shaking with laughter. Kylo just simply smacked the back of your thighs and you swear you could hear little laughs falling from his mouth.

While you two were distracted, neither of you noticed a red-headed general stopping in the middle of the hallway and watching with fondness. Finally, all his hard work had paid off. Kylo would stop bothering him about you and you would stop moping around the ship every day you didn’t see him. Hux just turned back around and quietly left to go back to his own lover in his quarters.

When he walked away you thought, ‘Hell, of a story I have to tell Hux tomorrow.’

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Well, I don’t even know how that turned into that. Sorry to Anon if that’s not close to what you had in mind, oops, but I let myself wander. I might do a second part where it’s smut, but I’m not sure yet. Lemme know if that’s something you guys would wanna read.

I hope everyone is having a wonderful week ! My requests are open and I added more characters to my request list found here ! Thank you so much for reading and more prompts are always welcome !

Please, remember to wear a mask if you go out and stay safe and healthy out there, everyone ! Thank you, ily xx !

- K :) !

#kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo x you #kylo ren x y/n #kylo x y/n #kylo ren #angst #angelsfwrites #angelsfw writes #fanfic #fanfiction #star wars #requested #hux #kylo ren/you #kylo/you

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buoyantsaturn · 4 years ago

Text

A World Alone (5/10)

summary: Nico was ready to propose - now he just needed to figure out how. He convinces Will to celebrate Hanukkah for the first time in years. The problem is, Nico doesn't know anything about Hanukkah.

word count: 2,304

read on ao3

They’d both been awake for over an hour, but any time Will so much as thought about getting out of bed, Nico wrapped around him like an octopus to keep him in place. Not that Will minded, of course, but he was starting to get hungry.

Will shifted, and Nico immediately tightened his hold around Will’s waist. “Oh, I’m not even allowed to move now?” Will joked.

Nico propped his chin up on Will’s chest and pouted at him. “I thought you wanted to tag along on my day of rest.”

“Resting doesn’t mean we have to stay in bed all day,” Will said, though he was sure that Nico already knew that. “Besides, I’m going to need to eat something pretty soon, because I’d rather not resort to cannibalism.”

“You could never eat me,” Nico told him. “You love me too much.”

Will hummed, slipping a hand underneath Nico’s shirt. “I don’t know, you’re starting to look pretty tasty.” He pinched Nico’s side, causing him to jump and release his hold on Will.

“That’s cheating!” Nico exclaimed, but Will simply grinned back as he slipped out from under the duvet.

“All’s fair in love and war. And I’d really rather keep this one as love, if you don’t mind. We’ve both seen enough war for a lifetime.”

With a hmph, Nico flopped back against his pillow. “Don’t you dare burn down my kitchen.”

“Then you’d better come stop me!”

Nico resumed his octopus hold after they’d finished breakfast and moved to the couch. Sure, it had only been a week since Will’s last full day off work, but sometimes Nico felt like he and Will never got the chance to just sit like this and enjoy each other’s company.

And there was one other thing it seemed like they never had the time for.

“So,” Nico started as he stretched his legs over Will’s lap, ��if we’re sticking with this day of rest thing, then that probably means I shouldn’t do any more cooking, right?”

Will’s gaze was focused on the TV across the room as he said, “If you want to be that strict about it.”

Nico let his head rest against Will’s shoulder. “And no cleaning, either, and neither of us can sneak off to work, so… Well, I guess that means there’s only one thing we can do.” In the blink of an eye, Nico had placed himself on Will’s lap, knees pressed into the cushions on either side of Will’s hips and arms draped around Will’s shoulders.

Will smiled sweetly up at him. “Actually, we can’t do that, either.”

Nico frowned. “But--”

“Besides,” Will cut in, his hands coming to rest on Nico’s waist, “doesn’t your religion prohibit premarital sex?” Nico rolled his eyes, thinking, then it’s a good thing there’s an engagement ring in my nightstand. “And now that I think of it, they’re not too big on the gays, either, are they? Man shall not lie with another man, or whatever.”

Nico jabbed a finger into Will’s chest. “That’s just a misinterpretation, and I’ve told you that a million times. And shouldn’t you already know that? I know you went to...Hebrew school, or whatever it’s called.”

Will swatted Nico’s hand away. “Oh, sure, because they discussed the hot topic of gay sex to a room full of eight year olds. What do you think Hebrew school is?”

“Uh…” Nico paused for a moment to think. “Catechism with half the material?”

Will snorted, then hid his face in Nico’s chest as he started to laugh fully. “Okay, that was a good one. I’ll give you that.”

Nico started to curl a lock of Will’s hair around one finger. “So, I guess we have two options. One, we could exchange gifts for today, or two, we can go commit a mortal sin in the bedroom.”

Will hummed, his head tilting in thought. “Any sin?”

“I mean, I have a specific one in mind.”

“Hopefully not murder, right?” Will asked. “You know, since it’ll be just us in there.”

Nico snorted. “No, I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime.”

Clearly, Will was enjoying teasing Nico, because he continued with, “Is sodomy technically a mortal sin?”

Nico pressed his forehead against Will’s and whispered, “Do you wanna find out?”

“Well, since we can’t light the menorah or open any gifts until sundown, then...I guess that only leaves the one option.”

Nico grinned and shadow traveled them both across the apartment.

Will should’ve known it would be a mistake to get back into bed, because once again, Nico refused to let him go. And this time, he wasn’t falling for any of Will’s tricks, either. If Will complained that he was hungry or thirsty, Nico shadow traveled to the kitchen and back just to keep Will in bed.

Had Will really been neglecting cuddling his boyfriend that much?

“You’re going to tire yourself out,” Will called out as Nico dissolved into another shadow right before his eyes. He returned only a moment later with Will’s reusable water bottle and a bag of chips. Will raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you even think about eating chips in my bed.”

Nico shot him a look right back. “Our bed,” Nico corrected as he opened the bag. He sat down beside Will, leaning against the headboard, and started eating.

“If I find chip crumbs on my side, I won’t kiss you for a week,” Will threatened.

“You couldn’t commit to that if you tried.” Still, Nico only ate about a handful of chips before setting the bag aside.

“So, I’ve been thinking about something,” Will said as he draped an arm around Nico’s shoulders.

Nico settled into Will’s side. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” Will said sarcastically, poking Nico in the stomach and causing him to let out a giggle. “I was thinking about how I’ve never seen you go to church.”

“Yeah, so?” Nico took the hand that Will had around his shoulders and laced their fingers together. “I’ve never seen you go to temple.”

“Sure you have! It just wasn’t a Jewish temple.”

Nico shot him a confused look over his shoulder.

Will had a soft smile on his face. “You know, there’s a lot of temples in New Rome, and we’ve visited most of them.”

“Oh, sure,” Nico said with a roll of his eyes, “now you’re the funny guy.”

“Thank you, I know.” Will kissed Nico’s cheek, grinning as he thought of his next words. “So, anyway, won’t you go to Hell since you don’t consume the actual flesh and blood of your savior Jesus Christ at least once a week?”

Nico grinned right back. “It’s a good thing we all go to Hell anyway, then.”

Will pouted. “You didn’t laugh at my joke.”

Nico reached up and patted his cheek. “I’m laughing on the inside.”

Will didn’t believe him. “Well, since we’re on the topic, did you ever talk to your dad about getting me a place with you in the palace?”

Nico shrugged. “Well, I just haven’t decided if I’m keeping you around yet.”

“It’s like you don’t even love me anymore,” Will said, his pout increasing in strength.

Nico gasped. “Slander!” He twisted in Will’s hold so that he could press a kiss to Will’s lips. “Or is that one libel?”

“Is that really what’s important right now?” Will asked.

Nico sighed. “Alright, alright. I suppose, as long as you don’t do anything to piss me off, you can join me in the palace. It’s not like you’d wind up anywhere outside of Elysium, anyway.”

Will’s nose scrunched up, a habit that he’d picked up from Nico when he was confused. “You can’t know that.”

“Of course I do.”

“How?”

Nico shrugged again. “It’s just something I know. I don’t even need to know the person, I can just look at them and...know.”

“With just anyone?” Will asked. “So, you could look at, say, the President of the United States and tell me what circle of Hell he’s going to?”

Nico squeezed Will’s hand and tipped his head back onto Will’s shoulder. “I’ll make it easy for you: nine times out of ten, politicians end up in punishment. The other one goes to Asphodel. If they would stop getting corrupted by greed, then maybe someday Elysium will see its first politician.”

“Wow,” Will whispered.

Nico started drawing lines to connect the freckles on the back of Will’s hand. “You know, anyone who fought on our side in the Titan war went to Elysium.”

Will’s arm tightened around him. “So...my brothers?”

“I haven’t gone to check, but…” Nico nodded. “Last I saw them, that’s where they were headed.”

“And…” Will hesitated, unable to decide if he really wanted to know the answer. “My mom?”

Nico took a deep breath. “Statistically speaking, most mortals go to Asphodel, unless they do something really big.”

“I see,” Will breathed, trying to keep his emotions under control. “But...there’s still time?”

Nico squeezed his hand. “Yeah, there’s still time.”

Will pressed his nose into the top of Nico’s head as he blinked tears out of his eyes. “Okay, I think it’s time for a topic change before I get myself worked up.” He pressed a kiss to Nico’s head. “I think we should put on some pajamas and head back out to the living room.”

“I thought we agreed that you weren’t leaving this spot,” Nico said.

“You agreed, I did not. Besides, how am I supposed to light the menorah and get you your gift from right here? Do you really want me to miss out on such an important part of Hanukkah?” He wound his other arm around Nico’s waist and dropped his chin onto Nico’s shoulder as he started fluttering his eyes. He knew Nico wouldn’t feel it, but they were pressed close enough that Nico could be able to feel Will’s eyelashes tickling his cheeks. “We can watch a movie, too. Maybe even that Grinch movie you love so much.”

Will could practically feel Nico’s excitement. “The Jim Carrey one?”

“With the freaky Whos who give me the creeps, yeah,” Will said.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Nico asked, pulling out of Will’s hold to turn toward him.

Will hummed in thought. “Not today.”

“Well, I do.” Nico leaned in for a kiss, then pushed himself out of bed, announcing in an imitation of the Grinch’s voice, “But what’ll I wear?”

Will was the first to reach the living room, and he didn’t wait for Nico to arrive before lighting the menorah. He was just putting the shamash back in place when he heard Nico enter the room, immediately dropping onto the couch with a gift box in hand. Will joined him on the couch.

“You first,” Nico insisted, passing over the box. As he always did, Will carefully peeled away the shiny blue and silver wrapping paper, then pried the lid off the box underneath. He found more blue inside - fabric, this time - and unfolded the sweater to see it in all its glory. It was the Hanukkah version of an ugly Christmas sweater, complete with working lights stitched into the menorah’s flames.

“This is hideous,” Will told him, eyes bright with excitement. He beamed at his boyfriend. “You do know that I have to wear this to work tomorrow, right?”

Nico smiled back. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

Will darted forward to kiss Nico’s cheek. “Alright, your turn.” He lifted a large gift bag off the ground beside the coffee table, and handed it over.

There was another bag inside - a black backpack of sorts, but smaller than the one Nico usually used - and Nico could feel other things inside. He unzipped the main pocket and found a first aid kit - with the demigod expansion pack, as Nico had come to call it - a tightly packed thermal blanket, and what looked to be a Celestial Bronze pocket knife.

“I know you haven’t had to run off in a hurry recently,” Will explained as Nico searched through every part of his gift, “but the longer you stay put, the more I worry that you’re going to disappear at any second. You know how demigod life can be. I mean, just last week, Percy had to fight off a minor drakon that had tracked him down, and… I just don’t want you to get caught empty handed, or get hurt, or overexert yourself without me there to help you, so… Keep this handy, okay? This is your travel-sized version of me that I want you to take with you to keep you from dying.”

Nico stuffed everything back into the bag and set it aside so that there was nothing between him and Will when he reached out to take Will’s face in his hands. He looked Will in the eyes as he promised him, “I’m not leaving any time soon, okay? And I don’t ever plan on leaving without you, but even if something happens when you’re not around, I’m always gonna come back to you, got it? Besides, you are so much more than that little bag’s worth of stuff. There’s no replacing the real thing.”

“I didn’t say anything about replacing me,” Will told him with a pout that Nico kissed away as soon as it appeared. “I just want you to promise me that you’ll remember to take it with you if something does happen.”

“I will, I promise,” Nico told him, and grinned as he said, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Will rolled his eyes, then dropped his forehead against Nico’s. “Gods, quit being such a sap. Can you just put on your shitty movie already?”

Nico bumped his nose into Will’s. “Not until you kiss me back.”

thanks for reading!

buy me a coffee | more holiday event stuff

#solangelo #will solace #nico di angelo #mine #my writing #disclaimer: im protestant

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ksbwnotes · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 2

1. Oof

I’m sure, even after being told about this ‘relative’, Sangwoo kept it cool and didn’t tip off anything to the police, acting like “OH RIGHT MY RELATIVE THAT I HAVEN’T SEEN IN A FKKN DECADE”. It comes to show that he is incredibly calculating and intelligent, able to keep a facade on to an artform. This was probably something he has been able to do ever since he was a child, as we’ll later witness in his flashbacks.

Later Sangwoo says “you might as well have said you were my brother”, which is meaningful because Sangwoo doesn’t have one. So every relative Sangwoo knows is just as nonexistent as his nonexistent sibling.

2. I find this important to note

Bum obviously is prone to putting people on pedestals, only seeing them through the rose tinted glass he wants to see them in.

3. Why this though?

I find it very interesting that, because he doesn’t want to die, what he yells out is “I FELL IN LOVE!” Why this? I’m sure he’s also used this an excuse for the others he has stalked (I wonder if Sangwoo ever realized that Bum also stalked women and how he felt about that), but it most likely never worked with them.

Bum was just spouting whatever came to mind, so the fact that the word ‘love’ is what jumped out of him says a lot of how much it has been consuming his every being, even in the face of death.

4. s;jgio;sejro;gisejro;igerj wtf sangwoo

...I...well. I mean, it’s a great parallel, I think. Bum’s desperation for love making him yell that as his last words, while Sangwoo’s desperation for that same love making him stop in his tracks and even...fucking pet Bum??? I dunno, lonely or not, that wouldn’t be the first response of a completely not-gay-straight-as-an-arrow man. But obviously, Bum is a cutie pie and can appear feminine, which is why Sangwoo didn’t automatically kill him. If Bum looked like a ‘man’, then there would seriously be no saving Bum.

And I’m sure Koogi meant to emphasize Bum’s feminine attractiveness in that petting panel, maybe as a way to show what Sangwoo was seeing. I love how it’s purely white and blank behind Bum, as Bum is all Sangwoo is seeing. The fact that it’s white rather than black can suggest that Bum could be a new beginning, something pure and untainted.

I do kinda wonder if Koogi had Sangwoo as straight as a way to mitigate the stigma against homosexuality??? As a way for her to say “just because the story is between two men doesn’t mean this is supposed to be representative of homosexuality itself”.

5. Wow, the whiplash of mood and quick thinking

Boy didn’t even fkkn hesitate to destroy Bum’s legs, goddamn.

However, this does show that Sangwoo is very aware and his mental faculties are intact, even during times like these. You think he’d be fkkn furious and lose it, beating Bum to death automatically before Bum could even say anything. But Sangwoo doesn’t. The moment Bum says “love”, he stopped. He wasn’t in a haze of fury...maybe excitement (especially with that goddamn terrifying smile as Bum runs up the stairs), but even that was controlled.

In away, Sangwoo just seems...tired. He’s moving only because he knows he has to.

Also, the moment he says “not with your legs the way they are”, Sangwoo sees Bum the same way he has seen the women who’ve also been in the basement. The CEO daughter girl also had broken legs, so obviously the first thing he does is ruin their legs so they don’t run away...which...yeah, smart. I actually haven’t seen that even with Criminal Mind. xD

So that does show that Sangwoo seems really set in keeping his prey with him. Not to ‘chain’ them or anything, but to keep them from leaving him.

6. Double homicide

Ooooh 3 years ago?? Okay this is interesting...conscription age is 18 (or 17 since Koreans add that one year). I’m confused because, technically, Bum should’ve met Sangwoo first in the military, then in his college days. So did Sangwoo go to military later at age 20? Could be since his mom is...yeah. And his dad...sure.

Also, Bum and Sangwoo are four years apart. So say that Sangwoo went to college first, so Bum met Sangwoo when he was 22...then while Sangwoo was 20 and Bum was 24, they went into the military later. Since Sangwoo is 24 now (or 25 in Korean age jfc), that means he was 21 when his parents were killed.

Sangwoo also seemed to have needed to be discharged early, most likely because of his sick mom, which would explain also why he was in no position to befriend Bum.

Anyways, so that means Bum knew Sangwoo and was in love with him for about 6 years.

7. Wow

No wonder Sungbae is like this. He sees the eyes of every person he chased in Sungwoo’s dead-eyed stare. But he’s actually wrong about this, lol. Sungwoo’s mom is the culprit, technically, even though she was also a vicitm.

8. UHHHHHHH

HEY, SANGWOO, HEY, WHY IS BUM FKKN NAKED TO HIS UNDERWEAR WHAT THE HELL. WHY DID YOU UNDRESS HIM SANGWOO. HEY.

Oh my god, wait, was that really Bum’s underwear or did Sangwoo put that on him??

Also, wow, Bum’s hips. He seriously has a feminine body. Like...pear body shape lol.

Also, seriously, Sangwoo is treating Bum right off the bat like the other women. Rather than completely heterosexual, Sangwoo is more demisexual. And rather than femininity, he more prefers ‘weaker’ bodies, so that he doesn’t feel threatened by them. That is automatic towards females.

9. Hmmmmn....

Ah, for this to be the first thing you fucking wake up to, jesus christ. xD

I wonder though, why did Sangwoo cut her hair short? There’s probably multiple reasons for it...but one theory I would find interesting is that it’s because he met Bum.

Maybe he wanted to see how she looked like with a male haircut, how it would look like and compare how it felt like to see a pretty girl beside a pretty boy. He compared the two physically and made his decision that Bum was worth more than her.

I really do find it interesting that Sangwoo truly chose Bum over her, despite her being voluptuous and beautiful and actually a woman, which...you know...important for het men right.

But Sangwoo chose Bum because even though Sangwoo went straight to beating him with a goddamn bat, Bum yelled “I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU”.

If the choice was between what’s between the person’s legs vs the person themselves, Sangwoo will choose the person.

10. Interesting insight

Into why Sangwoo killed her and his thought process. Again, interesting, the fact that he kept emphasizing how stupid she was.

Her screaming for help and stuff is a very natural reaction and no one should ever blame her for that. But, for Sangwoo, it was ridiculous because she should’ve known that would piss him off more rather than make him feel guilty.

Part of it is how he learned to survive growing up--by reading his parents’ moods and figuring out how to respond. And on a smaller scale, how to respond to other people so that they see nothing but a charming, handsome man. The fact that she can’t even do 1/100th of that is fucking infuriating...and on a personal level, I can understand that frustration.

The other part is that her begging for mercy is obviously NOT what he wants. He wants someone like Bum, who’ll respond to him with loyalty and desire. Who won’t be afraid of him and will still stay to ease his loneliness.

11. Uh

What kind of half-baked excuse was this, bro. You spared him only because of what he yelled out to you and you just don’t want to admit it to yourself...or maybe just don’t want to say it to Bum, so that you can control him better.

12. Women have hair too, asshole

Sangwoo really does try to feminize Bum throughout the whole story. So obviously, yes, his instinct is more hetero. If Bum were burly like a guy rather than delicate like a girl, there would be no saving him. Sangwoo has his preferences. And Bum fits the most important aspect--and that most important part isn’t Bum’s genitalia.

I also do think it has to do with social construct. Sangwoo most likely grew up internalizing misogynistic and homophobic belief systems, whether or not those are what he truly agreed with.

13. The first time Sungwoo snaps

Notable to mention that it’s because he sees Bum trembling in fear of him. Sangwoo doesn’t like being reminded of the monster he is. He doesn’t take pleasure in it. But because he knows that he’s unforgivable and can’t go back, he just makes the situation worse by further slipping into the skin of a monster.

Honestly, this might be more indicative towards what he witnessed with his father. He’s emulating his father’s qualities because he knows that he’s no better than him, and can’t handle that fact. He’s also locking up his women THE SAME WAY HIS FATHER DID TO HIS MOM.

But, honestly, I think it’s because his mom is just as bad as his dad, that’s why he’s doing the same things as his dad.

14. You beat the girl

This is indicative of the fact that Sangwoo would be willing to be with Bum despite being a guy. And also suggests that, again, he really was comparing them and decides that Bum, with all his ‘loser’ like qualities, is still worthier than her. Heterosexual first, but demisexual overall.

And again, I think he’s doing the same things he has seen his father has done, pouring the food over Bum’s face like that.

15. First reward

Ah, here comes the training.

Also, I can see how differently Bum responds compared to every single person he’s seen, including his mom. They all will feel humiliated and resentful, hateful towards Sangwoo, seeing him as a monster, or being completely defeated. But Bum, instead, responds exactly the opposite. This is exactly why I think Sangwoo decides to kiss Bum.

Because, despite Sangwoo calling him a retard, that is exactly what Sangwoo wanted to see (but at the same time, not...Sangwoo doesn’t want someone as messed up as Bum, but he knows that only someone as messed up as Bum can be with him, and more than anything, he doesn’t want to be lonely).

If Bum reacted with fear rather than desire, Sangwoo would’ve never kissed Bum.

This is also a huge catch-22 that will end up blowing up on both of them. Bum reacting like this will make Sangwoo feel better about his actions and like he was able to find the person who’ll be able to accept him for who he is. But in the long term, it will reinforce this behavior and truly make him into his father. It will also keep him from truly dealing with his past.

16. Oh goddamn

Great insight into Bum’s mentality. It’s amazing, also, that he sees this as a sign of ‘dating’.

What I find telling is that Bum is thinking this DESPITE SEEING PROOF OF HIM BEING A MURDERER. I do get that it could be from his dissociation from real life, so he doesn’t quite understand what is going on. But at the same time, really, if Sangwoo treated Bum better, then Bum would’ve been absolutely fine with him being a serial killer and even join him. I honestly do believe Bum is more of a natural-born murderer than Sangwoo (though Sangwoo is probably more of a natural asshole lol).

17. Why are you also mentioning the word date!?!?

And I’m not sure if Sangwoo senses that those are Bum’s thoughts, but he also is thinking about dating in this context??

I can see how Sangwoo could’ve ‘read’ his prey and responded in a way that would’ve messed with their heads, but at the same time, it could be that Sangwoo is looking at this situation in just as much a twisted way as Bum is. But rather than Bum’s “I’m disgusting, yet he’s kissing me” mentality, he’s more likely thinking “Kissing him isn’t disgusting, so he passes round 3″ (round 1 is the first time with the bat, round 2 is the one where he kills the girl instead of Bum).

The thing is, since Sangwoo didn’t find Bum’s kisses disgusting, it reinforces his desperation to keep Bum with him. If he didn’t like kissing Bum, then I truly believe Bum would’ve died right here and now.

Also, interesting: “You’ll be the only one that ends up hurt, you know?” So, obviously, Bum having one working leg increases his chances of escape. So this is Sangwoo’s way of saying ‘if you escape, then I’ll make sure to hurt/kill you because of that’.

18. Here comes the sledgehammer

This is an interesting parallel. Looking back at chapter 1, it also seems like only one of the girl’s legs are broken, like how Bum’s leg was after falling down the steps.

So to keep the girl from escaping, Sangwoo just most likely tied her up. It’s not full-proof and it limits her movements, but Sangwoo probably doesn’t give a shit because with how she’s acting, she wasn’t going to live much longer.

But for Bum...with Bum, he’s planning to let him live much longer. He doesn’t want to restrict Bum’s movements because that makes him less appealing. Instead, Sangwoo takes it personally--takes it upon himself--to actually break Bum’s legs. This is a much more permanent fixture, reflecting how he’s planning to keep Bum with him for a much longer time.

Also, now that I’m looking at this, I think Sangwoo doesn’t actually rape his victims. Yeah, he has molested the girl’s dead body, but I think that’s more of a curiosity towards a dead body than actual sexual interest. It’s natural after seeing his mom’s corpse in front of him and all that...screwed up as fuck jazz lol.

I think he has sex with them in the beginning and that’s probably when he snaps because...his mom raped him, so. After that, he tortures them according to their reaction to him. But he probably doesn’t actually touch them more than that. In the case of hypersexuality, Bum fits this much more than Sangwoo does at this point. Sangwoo seems to just use it as a weapon, while Bum does it because he wants to be fucked.

This makes sense because it seems like Sangwoo was raped once by his mom and probably molested the other times, while Bum was frequently raped.

Furthermore, Bum--as we’ll later see--is most likely the only one he truly does rape.

#chapter 2 #volume 1

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interstellarflare · 4 years ago

Text

Loved You Dangerously - Thomas Shelby

-PART TEN-

Song: Dangerously - Charlie Puth (slowed)

Warnings: Violence, swearing, fluff, angst, slight sexual content.

Summary: I loved you dangerously, more than the air that I breathe. Knew we would crash at the speed that we were going, didn’t care if the explosion ruined me. Baby, I loved you dangerously, Mmmm, mmmm. I loved you dangerously.

An arranged marriage to one of London’s most notorious criminals isn’t something that you planned for. But when you so happen to be kidnapped by the one and only Thomas Shelby of the Peaky Blinders, your story takes a drastic turn full of lies, deception, and a love that you never thought possible.

Author’s Note: This is a series that is all my own. Events happening within will not directly correlate with the actual show. This chapter will be from Tommy’s perspective, but it will also be switching between the reader’s perspective as well. There will most likely be many spelling errors which I will edit later. But nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy!

One of the maids had called throughout the night, and Thomas wasted no time in returning home.

Arthur sped through the countryside, turning around corners way faster than anyone should have, but Thomas could tell that his brother was just as furious as he was. Arthur had grown quite fond of you during your prolonged stay, all of the Shelby’s had. But after the maids had informed him that there had been an attack on the house, this was the last straw.

It was early morning when they arrived back at the mansion. The cloud cover had turned the sky grey, a heavy mist consuming the valley and leaving ghostly shadows of trees in its path. Driving down the gravel driveway, Arthur suddenly slammed on the brakes, the car skidding violently to a stop. Polly cursed, gripping John’s arm tightly as she brushed strands of hair from her face. “What the fuck is that?” Arthur mused, his squinted gaze focused on a shadowed figure only a few metres away. Thomas followed his brother’s gaze, spotting the figure hunched over on the gravel before...a body.

Thomas’s heart leapt into his chest, a sense of fear consuming him as he exited the car. He set off at a sprint, the mist seeming to clear as he approached. His pace increased when he realised it was you, his breath hitching in his throat as he sprinted to your side. “Y/n!?” He cried, his eyes widening in shock and horror. Upon hearing your name, a wave of relief fell upon him as your head lifted, your glazed eyes meeting his. He sprinted as fast as he could, as you stood shakily to meet him. Numbly, you stepped over the body and jogged towards him, throwing yourself into his arms. Thomas held you close, whispering sweetly into your ear. “It’s alright, I’m here. You’re safe now...”. For a brief second, Thomas pulled away from you to examine every inch of you. His stomach churned in a mixture of anger and fear. You were a complete wreck, a bloodied, shaky and sobbing mess, and Thomas was furious. Your hair was matted with blood, your hands stained a crimson red, and your clothes were almost black from the sheer amount of the it. You muttered something under your breath, a broken whisper, something that broke Thomas’ heart.

“I killed him...I killed him Tommy”.

Silently, Thomas’ gaze moved downward to the body behind you, his anger rising as he recognised the face. It was Alfie’s lackey, the one who had broken into his home, and threatened your life not two days ago. “Tommy...” you spoke, your voice hoarse and broken “I...I-”

Thomas pulled you back into his chest, wrapping his arms securely around you as you cried into him. He felt your hands grasp the fabric of his shirt, the force almost enough to tear the material. Despite his own fury, your skin was freezing to the touch, the mere coldness of you seeping through his warm clothes. He pulled away from you, hating the way the blood stuck to your face in ugly drops, and swiftly removed his coat. “You’re fuckin’ freezing...” he muttered, his jaw clenching as you greedily wrapped his coat tighter around your shivering form “how long have you been out here?”. His heart tugged as your eyes simmered, a small trace of the innocent woman you once were pushing through the grief, horror and trauma you had experience. Your words became stuck in you throat, trying to speak slowly but surely. When you couldn’t respond, Thomas immediately knew. You had been outside all night, with nothing but the man you had killed for company. Thomas swore loudly, cupping your face gingerly as three pairs of rushed footsteps approached. The first by his side was Polly, who shrieked loudly upon seeing your appearance.

“Fucking christ! Are you alright?” She questioned, taking Thomas’ place and placing her hands on your shoulders. More tears cascaded down your cheeks as Polly turned to face him with a grim expression. “I’m going to take her inside and get her cleaned up, you boys do whatever you need to do” she instructed, before turning towards you again. She spoke softly, as if speaking to a child, and smiled as comfortingly as she could. She looped one of her arms around your shoulders and escorted you towards the house, where several maids greeted them on the threshold and ushered you inside.

As soon as your form disappeared, Thomas’s gaze returned to the body still on the ground, his eyes narrowing into a dangerous glare. A small part of him wished that the bastard was still alive, so that he could have killed him himself. How dare he. How dare this pathetic excuse of a man try and take what was his. Thomas released a frustrated sigh through his nose, as his brothers moved to stand by his side. Arthur was the first to speak. “What do you want us to do?” he asked lowly, his voice seething with anger. Thomas turned to face John, who’s expression look as angry as he felt. “Whatever you need done, we’ll do it” he responded, standing tall and confident in silent and blind loyalty. Thomas thought for a long moment, his hand clenching into fists at his side. With his gaze fixated on the body before him, he ordered in a deep and authoritative tone, “Get rid of the body. Then I want you to hunt Alfie down. Do whatever you have to do to find him, but you do not act without me telling you what to do. Understood?”.

Arthur and John both nodded in agreement, the both of them stepping forward and lifting the body between them. As Arthur and John returned to the car, Thomas made his way towards the mansion. He had a lot of planning to do, and one plan in particular was quite risky. But he would gladly risk everything for you, and so after entering the mansion, he headed straight for his office. No one dared bother him as he passed, after all, almost everyone was upstairs taking care of you. But when Thomas entered his office, his anger turned to complete rage. Papers from his desk draw lay scattered all over the floor, one of the curtains was ripped off its hanging, and his revolver was on the floor on the other side of the room. Picking it up carefully, he placed the weapon on his desk and braced his hands against the wooden frame. At this point, he was seething. Putting fragmented pieces together, Thomas assumed that you must have come to his office, knowing that there was a hidden revolver beneath the draw’s contents to use in order to defend yourself. With a heavy heart and an enraged cry, Thomas swung his arm and cleared his desk of all its contents with one swift swipe.

The lamp shattered against the wooden floorboards, the loud crash echoing throughout the entire second floor of the mansion. Thomas collapsed back into his chair, running a stressed hand through his hair as he sighed loudly. He would worry about fixing his office later, the functionality of the room was not his main priority right now. However, after finding a few pieces of blank paper and a pen, he set about writing a letter. Or rather an invitation of sorts.

After sitting in the billiard room for a long and gruelling three hours, Polly finally entered the room with a long and tired sigh. Thomas rose to meet her, discarding the glass of whiskey in his hand as he stepped towards her. “How is she?” He asked carefully, his eyes searching Polly’s face for any troubling signs. When Polly sighed wearily, a soft smile gracing her lips, she shook her head. “She’s incredibly shaken, dare I say traumatised, but she is alright” She explained, causing Thomas to sigh with relief. His worry had done nothing but eat away at him for the entire morning, and hearing that you were somewhat back to your normal self caused his heart to soar. He had never felt so relieved, his gaze falling to the floor as he breathed deeply.

“You can go see her if you want, but just be cautious” Polly warned, placing her hand on his shoulder and squeezing it gently. Without waiting another second, Thomas made his way towards your bedroom, wanting nothing more than to see you. But upon reaching your door, he suddenly felt quite nervous, the envelope in his jacket pocket feeling a great deal heavier than it did an hour ago. With a faint sigh, Thomas knocked lightly, his heart leaping as he heard your soft voice mumble a small and timid ‘come in’. He did as he was told, opening the door slowly and entering your room to find you situated on the windowsill, your legs pulled up to your chest. Thomas closed the door behind him, your eyes moving to meet his with a faint smile. He approached you slowly, moving to sit beside you on the windowsill.

As soon as he sat down, he watched you from the corner of his eyes as you swung your legs down onto the floor, and moved over to sit beside him. Taking his hand in yours, you leaned your head onto his shoulder with a slight sniffle. Thomas looped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him before resting his chin atop your head. He held you close, managing to intertwine his hand with yours and squeeze it reassuringly. “Last night, the man I...” you began, your voice quivering as horrific memories flashed through your mind, “he said that Alfie has now given his men permission to kill me, and blame my murder on you and the Peaky Blinders”. Thomas’ jaw clenched, a deep huff of frustration leaving him before you suddenly tightened your grip on his arm. Thomas froze, moving his head to peer down at you, only to find your eyes already fixated on his. Those beautiful, (eye/colour) eyes that he loved so much, that had experienced something no woman such as yourself should have, somehow still managed to sparkle. They shone with so much love, so much kindness, despite the trauma you had been through.

“Arthur and John are going to find Alfie...” Thomas suddenly blurted, not liking the way your form tensed “when they do, I’m going to kill him”. Thomas straightened as you pulled away from his hold, standing up and making your way into the centre of the room. He watched as you paced, your arms folded over your chest as your mind was no doubt racing with millions of thoughts. Thomas stood, placing his hands in the pockets of his pants “I wanted to let you know, Y/n, because I want you to make the call-” “What!? What do you want me to do!?” You shrieked, turning to face him with a bewildered expression. Thomas stepped towards you, taking your hands in his and caressing the back of your hands with his thumbs. Your eyes met, and Thomas thought that he should tell you what had been going on inside his head since the moment he found you on the driveway. Letting go of your left hand, he reached inside his jacket pocket to remove the letter he had written earlier, placed inside a white envelope and closed with the red wax seal of the Peaky Blinders. He held it out to you, watching as your eyes flickered between the paper and him.

“Inside, is a letter addressed to your father...” he began, feeling your grip around his hand tighten “it details everything that Alfie has done, from threatening you, to having you almost killed and more”.

“More? What are you not telling me, Tommy?” You questioned, eyeing him suspiciously accompanied by a small glare. Thomas sighed, the nerves in his chest increasing. He dreaded this moment, but if you felt the same way he did, there might be a slim chance that you would agree. “Inside the letter, I have asked for your hand in marriage”. You froze, your eyes widening in shock. Marriage!? You gasped, stepping away from him as your hands flew to your chest “You...you want to marry me?” You whispered, feeling your eyes well with tears. Thomas nodded, placing the letter down on the windowsill. He turned to face you again, nodding slowly. “For a long time, I tired to ignore what was happening between us. But I can’t anymore. I thought that if I pretended not to love you, you would be safer, but it only put you in more danger. I’m not making that mistake again. I love you, Y/n, to hell with Alfie and his fuckin’ men, and to hell with your father. But this is entirely up to you”.

You felt your chest tighten, your heart tugging painfully at the amount of emotion coursing through your body. Thomas stepped towards you, now only inches away from your form “If you don’t want to go through with this, say the word, and this letter doesn’t exist. But if you want to do this, just-”

Everything seemed to happen so slowly as you surged forward, wrapping your arms around Thomas’ neck and kissing him deeply. For a second, Thomas hesitated, but he soon returned the kiss with equal passion. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer to his form with little effort. You gasped loudly as Thomas moved to your neck, placing feather-light kisses just behind your ear. You shuddered, as Thomas gently laid you down on the bed, hovering on top of you as he removed his jacket. His lips connected with yours once again, as his hands caressed your hips. Soon enough, your train of thought became lost in overwhelming pleasure, love, and pure passion.

By late afternoon, your head rested peacefully against Thomas’ bare chest, your body covered by the tangled bed sheets.

You sighed in content, tracing invisible patterns against his skin whilst Thomas’ hand played with your hair. Your eyes fell onto the envelope still sitting on the windowsill, the letter that contained all of Alfie’s wrongdoings, and Thomas’ marriage proposal. You closed your eyes, thinking everything over. Thomas had made it very clear that this was entirely your choice. If you wanted this, he would make it happen. If not, he would put a stop to everything. You sat up, covering yourself with sheets as you leaned against your elbow, turning to meet Thomas’ gaze with a warm smile. In return, Thomas was already staring at you dreamily, as you moved to take his hand in yours. With a heavy sigh, you spoke confidently “I want you to send the letter”.

Thomas stiffened, his expression suddenly turning serious. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked quietly, waiting for your response. You nodded slowly and reassuringly “If Alfie wants a war, then I will give it to him...” you told him, tightening your grip on his hand “as long as I am the one that gets to pull the trigger when the time comes”. The smirk that formed on Thomas’ face caused your heart to flutter, as he lifted your hand and pressed his lips to the back of it in a promising kiss. When he pulled away, he ran his thumb over your knuckles “Consider it done, my dear”.

Tag list: @supermassiveblackhope @affabletimelady @spaghettirogers @audioshoes @gabriellepearce96 @twin-skltns @daisyxbuckley @arachnidscosmopoliton @ljb-novels @lordofthunderthr @hereticpriest @captivatedbycillianmurphy @imnotuglyimjustpredebut @lovelynerdytraveler @rhiannon-the-troublemaker @adepressedstudentslife @affection-rabbit

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy

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dopescotlandwarrior · 5 years ago

Text

Bluegrass -Chapter 24

Special thanks to @statell for all your help and encouragement

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter Twenty-Four (NSFW)

“Oh! Dear God!” Claire landed at Jamie's side hearing him struggle to catch his breath. “Its official, this cannot be undone, the genie is out of the bottle.”

Jamie pulled her close to him and tried to make sense out of what she said. Yesterday she said she was ruined for life, today the genie is out of the bottle. He tread carefully, feeling this was big information delivered in some kind of code.

“What exactly do ye mean, mo chridhe?”

Claire opened her eyes and blushed crimson before changing the subject. “You have a few more days to rest so promise me you won’t disobey doctor’s orders not to use your arm?”

“Sassenach, remember the deal we made with Rupert and Angus? They leave for Scotland tomorrow, for two weeks. You goin back to work and me of limited use that leaves Jason to manage it all. He canna do it alone.”

Jamie started to get up when Claire reached to stop him. “What if I know someone that can jump into the job and needs no training? Do you remember Steve? He has experience with horses, and he’s bored until school starts. If you agree, I’ll call him.

That was only a small part of Claire’s anxiety at the moment. Poor planning on her part had not prepared her for the numerous calls that came in from her email about returning to her practice. Her days were filling up with appointments that she could not handle alone. Molly was no longer available at any time with her blooming romance and there wasn’t time to hire someone and train them. The butterflies of anxiety had become sharks that were consuming her stomach.

Claire stood at the sink in her scrubs and wet hair chewing toast and washing it down with juice. Her heart hurt when she looked at Jamie’s face, so sad.

“I’ve grown attached to yer company Sassenach and now I must miss ye every day.”

She kissed him so sweetly and realized that without her driving anxiety, she would feel the same sadness.

“I can’t wait to hug you tonight. I will have much to report and I will miss you every second.”

Claire gripped the steering wheel as she negotiated the merge into freeway traffic. White clammy hands and a racing heart just compounded her misery. It only took twenty minutes to get hopelessly lost forcing her off the freeway to check her obviously broken navigation system. She sat on the side of the road and saw the turn she missed five miles back. She felt defeated and just wanted to go home. She had never done her job solo and suddenly questioned if she could. How was she going to find these remote places and do a day’s work without help? It was impossible. The blinker clicked as she waited to pull onto the road.

Claire looked down at the phone in her hand and tried to calculate the improbability of her next move. When he answered she felt her eyes sting at the sound of his voice.

“Nice surprise doctor B, oh wait, doctor F, hmm, it will take some time getting used to..”

“You might have to get used to calling me Claire. Go ahead, it won’t cause permanent damage.”

“Alright, Claire, what’s up?”

“Well, I was wondering, well, hoping, actually praying that you might have some free time to help me now and then …some days of the week...not very many, maybe.”

Dustin laughed, “I happen to be unemployed now, so yes. We stayed for the first summer session so Hope could take a class she missed. Now we’re home, no one is hiring. I’m excited just thinking about it!”

Claire’s hand was cramping from holding her phone so tight and her eyes popped open. “Was that a yes?”

“Yes! I can come with you today if you want.”

“What? Really? Oh Dustin, you are a lifesaver. I am lost on the side of the rode and thirty minutes late for my first appointment. Can you guide me to where you are?”

“Let’s start with where you are, can you see a street sign?”

Fifteen minutes later, Hope pulled behind Claire’s truck and Dustin got out. Claire was in the passenger seat already, so he jumped behind the wheel as Claire waved to Hope.

They were pulling up to Claireborn Farm ten minutes later and Dustin used his excellent driving skills to back up to the large rolling doors giving them quick access to the equipment they would need. Claire’s first day back after six months and Dustin’s first day back in a year made for a timid start as they got accustomed to working together again.

Claire was a stone-celebrity at each stop and there were many of the same questions asked over and over again. Dustin would set up the treatments and the moment Claire could break away from the fanning owner she would nearly collide with the first horse. The awkwardness between Claire and Dusty could not flourish under their practiced timing and it fell away as they powered through the day.

“Jamie, could you send Rupert to pick me up please? Dustin is going to work with me for the next two months and I don’t like to drive. Thank you, sweetheart, see you soon.”

“Married life agrees with you Claire.”

“I could say the same for you young man, you look healthy and happy.”

Dustin looked straight ahead out the windshield, “Hope is great.”

Claire dug into her files and Dustin dictated the treatments done today, appointments for a recheck, what tests were being done, and special billing requirements. She heaved them off her lap and smiled at Dustin when Jamie was driving up.

“Thank you Dusty.”

He shook hands with Jamie and grimaced at his bandaged elbow before heading for home. When Hope saw the big truck still dripping from the car wash, she ran outside to embrace her husband. Claire’s energy had clung to him all the way home but when he looked into Hope’s sweet face, he was free again.

Claire was quiet on the way home, bowled over by the contrast between her old life of living alone in her little mountain cabin, spending her days with Dusty, and her current reality of world-famous jockey and wife of Jamie Fraser. The degree of change in one year was astounding and she was deep in her head about it.

Jamie looked at his wife and felt lonely for her. He steered the truck with his knee and ran his hand down her arm to get her attention.

“I'm concerned about the seat belt around ye lass. Ye see, it gets most of the wear and tear compared to the middle one. See, this one is practically new. For yer own safety, come sit here, love.”

Claire smiled and moved closer to Jamie feeling the cascade of love emotions when her thigh pressed against his.

“Claire, can I act like a fourteen-year-old with his first crush for a minute?”

“Let it rip fourteen-year-old Jamie,” was her giggled response.

“Were ye romantically involved with Dusty?”

“No, never. I worked shoulder to shoulder with him for two years and never really knew him. Molly and I drove him home the last day before he left for school. We pulled up to a house and I didn’t know if his parents lived there if they were alive, any brothers or sisters, nothing. I am very skilled at not letting people in, ever. But you changed all that, like an avalanche my life filled with people like Molly, Lulu, Michael, Jason, Rupert and Angus, and now Steve and his father. Christ my life has changed so much I can hardly believe it, and it’s all your fault.”

Jamie was listening intently. Claire didn’t talk much about who she was inside and how she got that way and he wanted to hear more.

“Why?”

“After my parents died, I didn’t seem to belong to anybody. People fed me and gave me a bed, but I didn’t belong to them. I would lay in their strange bed at night and cry for hours, watching the door for my own father to come in and rescue me. Every night I watched the door and waited for him. I felt like that little girl again when the FBI terrorized me for hours, locked me in a fifty-degree room with no chair or couch, and only the cold concrete floor to lie on. When I felt your arms slide under me and carry me out of that torturous building, it finally happened, someone came for me.”

Jamie’s heart nearly broke thinking of that tiny girl alone in the world. He leaned toward her ear, “it was two years before I saw ye again, Sassenach.”

“Well, ha, Isobel walked in on me getting out of your shower and morphed into pure evil. So I dodged your requests for a while but when you called about Runner I couldn’t stay away. It was pure luck that I checked the dam’s wing when I did and found the dead mare. As it was, we raced to beat the seconds he had left before he expired inside his mother. Since I was responsible for him being on this earth, I wanted to help him if I could.”

“Did ye know I slept with ye half the night after gettin ye from the FBI? Ye wouldn’t warm-up, it was the only way I knew.”

“I remember every conscious minute to this day, including your hand pressing into my stomach and running down my leg before you jerked awake and ran back to your room.” Claire was laughing.

“Ah, ye felt that, did ye? Sorry Sassenach.”

“Don’t be sorry, I loved it! You were my hero for what you did, and I tucked the memory in a special place in my head so I could keep it forever.”

Jaime lifted her chin to look in her eyes, “ye fascinate me, love.” He kissed her deeply before she jumped out to let him get back to work. She felt different inside. Happier, closer to Jamie and the feeling stayed with her through a hot shower and her walk to the barn. When she saw Jamie, the look in his eyes said he felt it too. Remarkable, she thought, she dropped her past like an old novel, but Jamie was hungry to hear about it. And what a lovely outcome.

Jamie handed her a lead as they approached the pasture fence and watched Runner and Porcelain gallop toward them from the other side. A safe distance from the fence Porcelain dropped to a trot and so did Runner who accepted the lead and walked like a gentleman back to his stall.

As they were leaving, Porcelain decided to make her unhappiness known by kicking at the corral gate of her stall with a lonely whiny. No consoling would help her calm down. She was done being alone.

“There you go Romeo, yer girlfriend is right beside ye now. Mind yer manners, aye?”

Jamie put his good arm around Claire and smiled to himself. “I’ve made some decisions about the rest of the day. You are to pick something on Netflix while I go pick up a large pizza and a dozen wings. Ye can eat in yer wee robe and fall asleep in my arms if ye want. How does that sound?”

Claire ran to Jamie’s truck and jumped into the passenger seat, staring at him like, hurry up!

Slow summer days stretched ahead of them. Two or three days per week Claire would tie hanging apples to the tree branches out in the pasture and leave sugar cubes on the fence in different places to keep Runner looking for treats. Steve and Jason built the breeding shed with pointers from Steve’s father now and then. A dedicated mares wing was outfitted to house the broodmares who would stay there for breeding and one stall was converted into a lab for medical equipment and on-site testing. The enormity of this undertaking was becoming clear, but time was on their side.

Jamie made improvements to the house and on one occasion demonstrated how he mounted a sixty-inch television in a newly built recess in the wall and covered it with a huge picture on side swing hinges. Claire clapped and kissed, very impressed with his ingenuity. She looked around the large room that had always felt cold and sterile to her.

“Jamie, what do you think about this furniture? Did you and Isobel pick it out together?”

Jamie chuckled, “I hate it and had no hand in choosin it. Isobel hired some decorator, and this is what they came up with. When I built the chess table, Isobel moved it to the garage. That was the first time I told her to find her own place to live. After that she allowed it in the house but always hated it.”

It became Claire’s project to order and collect all the decorating and architecture magazines they could look through for ideas. She would spread them out on the bed, and they would both make a gallant effort only to hear them crackle under the weight of two athletic bodies chasing their passion or lay sound asleep on top of them.

By mid-July, there was a new trainer in residence bringing seven two-year-olds and seven handlers with him. Boot camp for the yearling races was in full swing by August. It brought the energy of horse racing and the Road to the Kentucky Derby back to the compound, infecting the whole crew.

“I don’t think I need to eat anymore, love. I can exist on the energy and excitement alone.”

“I miss your bur and contractions sweetheart,” said as she hugged him. “Why do you try so hard to lose them?”

“That is a long and boring story for another time. I’ve come for ye to talk sense into Runner before I have to. He’s watchin the yearlings race each other and pressin his chest against the pasture fence. I have to replace a whole section, so c’mon and fix him.”

Claire laughed as Jamie pulled her outside to his truck. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon and spending some time with Runner was an excellent idea.

Claire loved these low- key summer days but when August came to a close, she hugged Dustin and cried before doing the same to Hope. She drove herself home that day and when out of sight she pulled over and cried in earnest.

The breeding room was finished, and Steve was leaving for the academy. Jason got moody because he would be shipped back to New York until February and he didn’t want to leave Lulu. When Claire asked if he would like to stay and assist her it seemed like a reprieve to him and he was very grateful.

As with Molly, Claire bit her tongue for the first month until Jason knew the routine. He would never be as good as Dustin, no one would be that good, ever, and she wondered why. She compared Jason’s actions with Dustin’s and realized that she was Dustin’s priority, not the treatment, or the horse. It would require someone loving her to the bone to be as good as Dusty was, and she would not wish that on anyone.

The onset of fall, with cooler weather and colorful foliage was the delight of Kentucky residents and tourists alike. Dogwoods and Sumacs turned red and purple, Sugar Maples were orange and red, Poplars and Hickories added yellow and gold. The dense forests of hardwood trees and the numerous lakes provided a romantic canvas for long walks, deep talks, and Jamie’s inspiration for a different future at Highland Brothers.

“We are blessed with a miracle horse. If he is fertile it will guarantee unspeakable wealth for the two of us. I have never been comfortable with that level of wealth especially when our crew will never see such comforts. My memory fades from the early days in Ireland working at a stud farm. It’s a huge operation and we will need all of them to pull this off.” He stopped and pulled her into a hug. “Runner can change two lives or six lives. What say ye to that?”

Claire’s smile was beaming when she jumped up and wrapped her legs around Jamie’s waist, punching the air above her head yelling yes! Her generous heart was just fed a super-size of glee and she hopped along the trail until her feet became obedient again. Jamie laughed at her sparkling happiness until she pulled him to her with a very serious face.

“Jamie, I know we have much to do but I have one request. Will you dance for me tonight?”

He ran his finger over her jawline, “I will.”

For the next four weeks, they worked on the business plan almost every night. Jamie met with stud farm owners that were very generous with their time and education. He showed humility and an eagerness to learn and kept a diligent log of each meeting. Claire met with fertility vets and was treated to a cart blanch atmosphere from her peers. They shared protocols that had worked for them and Claire let her gratitude show. The first Saturday in December they hosted a workshop.

There was a full breakfast spread before starting and hot coffee that was refreshed throughout the day. Jamie started with a quick explanation of the business plan, and an overview of each person's role.

“Lulu, yer the first contact and qualifier for serious inquiries. Through phone or by mail, yer the one to decide which mares make it to my desk. Don’t be scared,” said chuckling at her white face, “we’re gonna teach ye. There will be a mountain of information arriving on each mare, Sire and Dam lines, registration copies, genetic profiles, test results, vet checks, fertile histories, racing history and foal statistics. That is yer domain and it’s essential.”

Lulu’s eyes were tearing, and she shook her head side to side, “I can’t be responsible for all that, what if I mess everything up?”

Jamie’s face softened at her fear. “I have never met a grid brain more suited to this task. What was Tacitus’s last race, how did he do?

“Aqueduct, second place.”

“How did Code of Honor do and where I wonder?”

“Breeder’s Cup, seventh place.”

“What are Tacitus’s earnings so far?”

“Six hundred thousand.”

“Who told ye to memorize those stats?”

Lulu blushed crimson and looked around defensively, “no one.”

“If ye don’t see it in yerself, lass, trust me, yer the best for this job.”

“Rupert, Angus, ye do transport, bed and breakfast ID checks, turn-outs, follow special feed instructions, and handlers in the breedin room…”

Jamie stopped while they joked about having such a hard job. “Seems easy ye say. There will be five to seven mares with us rotatin in and out for four months, some look identical, if ye return a mare to the wrong owner we sell Runner and close this operation down. Can’t recover from a mistake like that. The mares are your responsibility gentlemen if ye turn out six hormonal mares and they have a throw down out there with no one to stop it?” Jamie paused while the ramifications sunk into their brains. “I trust ye with my life, now I’m trustin ye with theirs.”

“Jason is the manager at stud so questions and concerns go to him and he will make any changes needed.”

Rupert and Angus were wondering if they could eat more, Lulu was bursting with pride over her boyfriend, and Jason’s self-esteem swelled knowing he would head up this huge endeavor.

Claire went next and gave a biology lesson in equine conception, what it meant to cover a mare, how they would use technology and medicine to bring on the mare's estrus, confirm ovulation, and then verify fertilization.

“Adding to the tasks Jamie mentioned, Rupert and Angus, you will be in the breeding room for every cover. One holds the mare, the other collects the semen that leaks out when he jumps down. I will teach you both how to do this properly.” Claire couldn’t help laughing at their green faces.

“Runner is unproven, so we take it easy this first year. The mares that are chosen to breed will arrive spaced out through March until late May. When they arrive, we run tests for health and fertile readiness. I will bring them into estrus with hormones and hope to get ovulation so they can breed. After that, we watch for fertilization using ultrasound, or breed again. The mares return to their own farms pregnant and then we get paid, not a cent before.”

When they stopped for lunch Claire ran for the doorbell. She stared at Michael who held up a hardback book with her and Runner on the cover crossing the finish line. The title read, Midnight Runner A Champion for the Ages. The tears came in sobs as she hugged him to her, and Jamie extended his hand when she finally let go. He handed the book to Claire and was led into the kitchen where the whole crew was there to greet him. He was stunned and very happy to see everyone.

Claire sat with the book on her lap while Jamie wrapped up the meeting answering questions. He could see Claire was in another world wanting to read the book more than she wanted to breathe.

“I want to wrap this up with the best part and thank ye for accepting the extra chores and responsibilities we gave ye without question. Yer good people, loyal and hard workin. This operation will flourish if ye work together as a team, help each other when needed, give support and encouragement, and do yer individual jobs like it was yer own company, yer own money on the line. Because it is. If Runner is infertile or has a poor breedin outcome, then I alone suffer the initial investment and ye get yer regular pay. I don’t think that will happen, so I’ve set my attorney to write up a profit-sharing plan. Your hard work and integrity will pay off. If the profit is there, and it will be, you get a piece of it.”

“How much of a bonus Jamie?” Rupert smiled and waited.

“As we said, the first year will be very low key while we prove Runner’s ability and we all learn the business. A conservative number…” he held up a piece of paper with $50,000.00 on it.

Angus chuckled, “not bad to start, ten grand extra each year will be nice.”

Jamie held up his hand until he had their attention. “Each. The second-year and those that follow…” he wrote numbers on another piece of paper and held it up. $200,000.00 to $300,000.00. “Each.”

There was a stunned silence as four sets of eyes stared at the paper. Each of them knew Jamie to be an honest man of integrity. Never boastful, never wrong. They filed out of the house trying to say something intelligible as they continued to process the numbers Jamie showed them.

When the meeting ended, Michael stayed and chatted while the food was put away and the house put back in order.

“What are yer plans Michael?” Jamie noticed Claire was peeking at the pages while he and Michael talked.

“I have a book signing tour for the next four months because the publisher believes it will be a best-seller. If it’s not, the tour will surely end early,” said laughing. “I would love to assess Runner tomorrow if you don’t mind. I know he is still here because I talk to the receptionist every month or so.”

“I feel great pride in ye laddie.”

“So does my father, a blessing I never expected when I started all this.”

Jamie drove Michael back to his hotel later in the day and Claire was finally alone to start reading Michael’s book. She turned the first page almost shaking with excitement.

‘Dedicated to the bravest woman I have ever known, risking life and limb through every race so Midnight Runner could be the champion he was born to be. Midnight Runner will never be forgotten, and neither will you, Claire Beauchamp.’

The book landed on the bed as Claire ran to the bathroom for tissues. She cried so hard and wrapped her arms around her middle like she would die from the emotion. Every terrified day came rushing back in her memory. The day she prepared her speech for Jamie, telling him she was done and would not race Runner. The gate crash in their first race that almost toppled Runner, to her certain death. The crippling fear being loaded into the gate at the next race, so sure she would die this time. Runner telling her she would be a winner on him, telling her when to tuck, gloating after the race, seeing no other horse in front of them when they crossed the finish line. Her deafness, hearing only Runner breathing as she stretched her arms forward with every stride.

She processed the memory of every race and realized that Runner knew he would win, always. His only weakness was the race in the rain when she took over the race and he put his faith in her to guide him. Runner knew he was a champion and he proved it at Belmont with a thirty-one- length win for the Triple Crown. All he needed was a rider to make his claim in history and he chose her.

It was the first time since winning at Belmont that she considered all the private moments, the struggle against her fear, the elation of winning, and her emergence as a jockey with a single-minded determination to win it all, even if she lost Jamie in the process.

She picked the book up again, almost fearing the emotion it would invoke and turned to chapter one. Michael wrote from his point of view, so she was reading a different story than her own. She was fascinated.

She read how Michael tried to hide his excitement in that first meeting at Aqueduct after they fired their trainer. His effort to overcome his introverted personality and accept the offer to come to Kentucky. When Claire read the details about Rupert disclosing her gift after almost strangling Michael in the middle of the night and his desperate attempt to escape what he perceived to be lunatics on a remote farm, she lost it. The book hit the floor first followed by Claire, on her hands and knees laughing until she cried and struggled to breathe.

Jamie stood in the doorway to their bedroom and watched his wife laugh until she dropped her butt on the ground and leaned back against the bed, wiping her tears.

“This is hysterical Jamie! Reading about Michael’s midnight walk to the barn in the dark, Rupert accosting him from behind, telling him I discuss the odds with Runner. He thought we were all crazy and looked for a way to escape!”

“What chapter are ye on?”

“Page two actually.”

Jamie had secretly dreaded what Michael would write. Hoping he would be kind to Claire and not write a tell-all gossip book full of half-truths.

“I have been worried he might write something unsuitable.”

“Well, I will be sure and let you know if I read anything unsuitable.”

She pulled Jamie toward the shower pulling her own clothes off so she could join him under the suds. When she covered him in soap her arousal jumped into the one-alarm fire zone which could be ignored since Jamie had some work to do before bed tonight. She put on her robe and jumped on the bed to keep reading. In ten minutes she was daydreaming and put the book away. She stretched languidly watching images of Jamie between her legs driving her crazy. It was now a two-alarm fire and her heart was racing.

Jamie was recording expenses in his ledger by the light of a single lamp on his desk. He felt it. A low-level electric current that made the hair on his arms and neck stand up. He felt her arm across his shoulders and looked up into steamy whisky colored eyes that he was powerless to disobey. She nudged his chair so he would slide it back and she pushed his work to the side sitting directly in front of him. Jamie stood up and pulled her mouth to his by his grip on her hair, tasting blood in his mouth when she bit his lip. He continued to assault her mouth letting his fingers touch her thighs and stomach lightly until she moaned in complaint. It was a blazing three-alarm fire burning her core and stealing her breath.

Jamie stopped suddenly and stood above her, watching her breasts bounce while she panted, eyes just slits looking up at him. She looked like a wild cat sizing up her pray and the electric current he felt started to buzz in his balls and up his spine. She reached for his mouth to kiss him, but he put a hand on her chest easing her down to lay across his desk. He could see the whole lower floor twenty feet below them and wrapped her hands around the wrought iron safety barrier. He pulled her knees up and pushed them apart before sitting down in his chair where he would take his time tasting and teasing her. Claire moaned with her first orgasm and, he let her slippery pulsing pull him in. He did not move until the pulsing stopped and her eyes opened.

“Turn your head to the side and look down Sassenach. You mustn’t let go.”

Claire felt her stomach do flip flops when she looked over the edge into the floor below. As Jamie’s arousal increased, his thrusting pushed her ever closer to the edge. She lost focus of the perilous drop-off and gave in to her lust, moaning loudly and watching this brute take her roughly. Jamie stepped away from her and carried her to the bed where he lit a candle. He poured a whisky for each of them and watched her.

She’s a purring wild cat now until I remind her of my power, he thought and dropped his head to her core to lick her once. Her face looked a bit shocked. He sipped his whisky and without warning dropped to her bud and sucked it into his mouth for a few seconds and then sipped his drink raking his eyes over her perfect curves. There was a third lick and a fourth, and the purring stopped. Jamie’s heart was ramming in his chest at the way she looked at him like she would sink her teeth into his neck if he didn’t ease her pain. When he did, it was forceful and commanding, followed by brutal thrusting that nearly cost him control.

He stretched his body over hers and looked at her with such love it almost stopped her heart. The wild cat gave way to an open-hearted woman who wrapped her love around his soul and kissed him softly. When he moved in her again it was softly as he told her of the most profound love and devotion and then he kissed the rolling tears from her face.

Claire snuggled into Jamie’s arms with a deep sigh. He figured she would read all night, but the book laid on her side table forgotten. He kissed her forehead and smiled in the dark.

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