#the sin -> sitting on a chair for too long yesterday and forgetting about my joints

[chocolatecakecas]

The Start of Forever: Destiel Honeymoon Ficlet

Warmth. That was the first thing Dean’s mind registered as he began to wake up. Then, he heard soft breathing, and felt familiar arms wrapped securely around his waist.

A smile tugged at his lips as the memories from yesterday came flooding back. Blue eyes, soft smiles, tears of joy, tight hugs, music and laughter. The vows, the kiss, the first dance, the speeches, their family, and the love that filled every corner of the room.

Through half-lidded eyes, he surveys his side of the room, landing on the silver and blue ring on his night stand. His eyes snap open.

It was real. They finally did it.

His gaze continues to travel down to the floor where he spots a rumpled dress shirt and pants. Memories from last night come rushing back.

Strong hands, burning hot skin, soft lips, heavy breathing, and those gorgeous blue eyes. His smile grows even wider.

It was all real. A soft gasp escapes his lips as a new sensation washes over him.

This morning, is the first time he's waking up with his husband. The first time he's waking up wrapped in his husband's arms.

Dean slowly shifts until he faces Cas. He gently reaches a hand out, pushing his hair messy hair out of Cas' face.

(Read the rest under the cut)

Dean's eyes trail over his features. Long lashes, the slope of his nose, chapped lips, down to his bare, tanned chest that's littered with bruises (what can Dean say? He just really likes Cas'....everything).

Wow, now who's getting their freak on watching other people sleep, Dean thinks to himself, grinning at the far off memory.

But Dean can't help it because Cas just looks like-well like an angel in his sleep, so gorgeous and peaceful.

But Dean knows all too well that "peaceful" goes right out the window as soon as he opens his eyes. Cas is not a morning person.

He huffs a laugh, thinking about the scene that's been playing out every morning. While Dean's at the stove, Cas will stumble into the kitchen and do his best impression of an octopus, flopping himself on Dean's back for a few moments, then he'll press a kiss behind his ear, grab his coffee (that Dean made, Cas still can't figure out the coffee maker) and slump down in a chair. Then they'll share breakfast together, with soft smiles and warm conversation waiting for Jack to barrel into the kitchen to join them, followed by Sam and Eileen.

It's all very domestic, and it's quickly becoming Dean's new favorite thing. And today will be the first time he does it, with his husband.

And if he wants that to happen together, he better stop staring at said husband, and get moving. With one last look and a kiss to his forehead, he reluctantly pulls himself from Cas' grip. Grabbing his ring, he quietly makes his way down the hall.

Dean immediately gets to work on Cas' favorite, blueberry pancakes, leaving some extra batter aside to just put chocolate chips in, for Jack. He pours it onto the sizzling flat top, and throws the bacon on the other end.

As he waits, Dean's eyes trail to the clock on the wall, and he curses at the time.

They were already off schedule. The price of wedding night bliss.

Today's a big day. And they are nowhere near ready to go yet, their bags aren't even in Baby's truck yet. They had gotten a bit distracted when they were packing a few nights ago (Dean blames Cas and his stupidly tight jeans he wanted to bring along). And if Cas keeps trying to pack his new, incredibly hot clothes, for the sole purpose of riling him up (Dean I need the leather jacket, what if it gets cold at night), they were never going to make it to Florida.

Their honeymoon.

They're staying at beach house for a week, courtesy of the minds of Sam and Eileen. Now he’s gonna be splashing in the ocean with Cas, playing rigged games together on the boardwalk, taking walks on the beach with his husband under the moonlight.

They are finally going to get to stick their toes in the sand.

Dean feels tears begin to prick in his eyes as he starts the coffee pot. He lets out a watery laugh.

Dean never thought he'd get this far. Hell, he didn't even think he'd make it to forty, much less get to spend the rest of his life with his best friend that he's been in love with for years. And now they're married, and they're going on their honeymoon.

His breathe catches in his throat, as he fills Cas' favorite mug.

Over the past few months, Dean has gotten more than he's ever allowed himself to want. He's gotten his freedom, the chance to live the rest of his life, the way he wants, with the people he wants. With Cas, his husband, and their three year old son, who's getting bigger everyday. With his brother and Eileen, soon to be sister in law. With his mom and Bobby, and Charlie, Claire, Jody and Donna, and the rest of his family which seems to be growing, for the first time in his life. And he-

Dean is pulled from his thoughts he feels warmth consumes him. Arms snake around his waist and a chin rests on his shoulder.

A smile stretches across his face.

"Mornin' sunshine".

All Dean gets in return is a squeeze and a contented hum. Cas hangs for a moment, running gentle fingers up and down Dean’s chest. Then he pushes off, grabs his mug and plops down at the table.

Dean plates pancakes for the both of them and turns, pausing at the scene before him.

Cas is propped up on his elbow, staring at Dean with dazed eyes and a relaxed smile on his lips. He's wearing Dean's robe and a pair sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt. Dean's breathe hitches when he catches sight of the ring on his finger. 

Dean smiles wider. That's his husband.

Dean quickly sits at the table, passing Cas his plate.

Cas gives a soft smile as a silent thank you, and they begin to eat.

Dean tries to go over the list of things they still need to do, but it's hard to focus, when his new husband is sitting inches away from him, wearing his wedding ring.

Focus Winchester. They need to finish packing the rest of their clothes (can't forget their matching Hawaiian shirts), they need to load up the trunk, double check that they have enough sun screen and beach towels, make sure Jack is settled with Sam and Eileen as they'll be watching him for the week. The thought pulls at Dean's heart, he'll miss his kid, they haven't been all been apart that long, not sin-

A hand wrapping around his own pulls him from his thoughts, and his heart he didn't realize was racing, slows

He looks up and is met with a tilted head and concerned blue eyes (some things never change). Cas squeezes his hand, a question on his lips, but Dean just smiles and squeezes back.

Cas always knows what he needs.

The smile seems to put Cas as ease, and his eyes trail down to their clasped hands, widening a little when he sees Dean's ring.

Cas slowly looks back up, lips parted in shock for a moment, then a smile takes over. And with a gravelly voice that should be illegal, he says

"Good morning, Dean".

And that's what does it.

Dean is sitting in their kitchen, eating blueberry pancakes, holding the hand of the man he married less than twenty four hours ago.

Dean never even allowed himself to dream, and now this has become his reality. Sitting across from his grumpy husband, his first best friend, rings on their fingers.

And he gets to do this, every single day, for the rest of his life. And he ju-

Little feet pound down the hall and Jack bursts into the kitchen greeting them loudly, pulling them from their daze.

With an amused smile, Cas moves first, grabbing Jack's plate and sippy cup, as Jack runs to his seat next to Dean.

They sit together, as Jack bounces in his seat telling them about how much fun he had at the "big party", and that he thinks they should all do it again.

Just as Dean is explaining they'll be having another "big party" for Uncle Sammy and Aunt Eileen's wedding, the very hungover couple appears in the doorway.

Dean and Cas share a laugh, as they watch them slump down in their chairs, plates piled high.

Dean's gaze travels over his little family as they eat and laugh over last nights events.

If one of them had told him a few months ago that this would be his life, he would have laughed in their face, and assumed they were possessed.

And now here they all sit. His husband, his son, his brother and his sister in law/new best friend, all sitting around a table, the day after his wedding, eating pancakes without a care in the world.

They really did it.

Cas stands and places his plate in the sink.

He drapes his standing body over Dean grabbing his hands, as he rests his head on his shoulder

"I love you, but I'm going to pack without any distractions, so we don't miss honeymoon". Cas whispers, amusement present in his voice.

He presses a soft kiss to Dean's cheek.

"Thank you for the pancakes, my love".

And with that, Dean watches in a daze, heart pounding in his chest, as Cas disppears down the hall, throwing a smirk over his shoulder.

My love, that's Cas' new favorite because it always knocks the wind out of Dean, causing his brain to momentarily short circuit.

He slowly looks back to the rest of his family at the table.

Eileen and Jack are signing back and forth (Jack is fluent in ASL, and a ton of other languages, it's the half angel in him, but he actually can't read in any language, go figure), while Sam tries not to fall asleep, with his head lolling in his hand.

Dean stared at them for a moment, taking in the sheer normalcy of the scene before him. As he laughs at Sam jerking himself awake, his thoughts travelled back to Cas, who was packing. Alone. In their bedroom.

And with that Dean was up, plate in the sink, hastily making his way to to their room, to find his husband. They were already off schedule, so he figured could afford to be a little later.

But now, as they drive together late into the night, accompanied by the sounds of Cas' mixtape (the first one Dean made him, it was his favorite after all), Dean thinks about what his life has become.

He glances down at their hands, clasped loosely across the bench, his eyes traveling up to Cas's face, illuminated by the glow of passing street lights.

Soon they'll be on a beach together, soaking up the sun in dorky floral shirts, and pastel shorts. Basking in the bliss of their honeymoon, alongside the love of his life.

Cas turns his head, meeting Dean’s eyes in the darkness. A gentle smile rests on his lips, which Dean automatically mirrors. And giving his hand a squeeze, Dean turns his gaze back to the road ahead.

Today was only day one, and they have the rest of their lives to go.

Tag list:

@theangelwiththewormstache @smiledean @shelikestv @starrynightdeancas @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale

@wikiangela @organicpurplepants @bbcalamity @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy

@martymar1963 @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26 @multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x

(As always, please let me know if you would like to be added or removed💛!!!)

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Far Away but Not Apart

Ao3

Summary: Roman loved Logan with all of their heart, even if they had only ever seen him through a computer screen. Content: Nb!Roman, don’t think there’s anything else really Pairing: Romantic logince Notes: This is the amos prize minific for @averykedavra who requested long-distance logince. I’m not certain I stuck properly to the prompt, but I do hope you like it, Avery!

~

    “-I’m just saying, there is no crueler mistress than the one that would place soulmates such as ourselves so far apart!”

    Logan sighed, rolling his eyes in a way that Roman was fully aware was amused, not annoyed. Though he had started the facetime sitting up and back in his fancy office chair, he was now leaning forwards, elbows on the desk, supporting his chin with one of his hands. “If fate were as cruel a mistress as you claim, Roman, then why would she allow us to meet each other at all?”

    “To torture us!” Roman replied dramatically, grinning when Logan chuckled. “It is only in knowing the other exists that we suffer! To be so close in heart but so far in distance-”

    “A pity, yes, but one we will survive.” Logan said, scoffing when Roman pouted at him. “You will only make yourself feel worse about our situation the longer you dwell upon in it.”

    “I have dwelled upon it every day since the one I met you, and suffered it every day since the one you allowed me to call you mine.”

    “We’ve only been dating for four months, Roman.”

    “And friends for two years!” Roman added on for him. “And never once during all of that time have I so much as held your hand! It is a crime, my beloved, a crime, a sin, a defiance against all that is good and pure!”

    “You’re overexaggerating.”

    Roman sighed and collapsed backwards on their bed, hand splayed over their forehead. “No, I’m suffering.”

    Logan laughed, and Roman lifted their head just enough that they could see him as he did so, their faux pout dropping so that they could smile at their muse. People who didn’t really know Logan said he was cold, unfeeling, logical to a fault. That was because people who didn’t really know Logan had never seen him smile brighter than the sun and laugh prettier than any angel could.

    Roman didn’t realize they had gotten lost in their thoughts of loving Logan until the object of their affections coughed and said, “You’re staring.”

    “How could I not?” Roman replied without missing a beat. “You are beauty incarnate, my sweetness, figure carved from smoothest marble and face painted with finest hues. I cannot help but to stare.”

    “You really are too much.” Logan told them, but his cheeks had flushed a dark red that let Roman know their words had had exactly the impact they had hoped for. “I was asking you what you were doing this weekend.”

    “Losing myself within worlds far more interesting than ours for but the fact that they do not have you, my angelic love.”

    “So… binging Netflix?”

    “My way of describing it was better.”

    Logan chuckled. “If you say so, dear.”

    Roman smiled at the petname. They had always loved how it made them sound as if they were an old married couple (which Roman fully intended for them to be one day). “And what are you going to be doing over your break from work-aligned existence?”

    “Not really a break, I’m afraid.” Logan said, prompting Roman’s smile to become a frown. “I’ve got a business meeting on Saturday, leaving Friday night.”

    Roman’s frown deepened. “Does that mean virtual movie night is off?”

    Logan nodded, now frowning himself. “I’m sorry to say, but yes. We’ll have to reschedule for another week.”

    “Well that sucks.” Roman said, trying to keep the majority of their disappointment out of their voice. They knew it wasn’t anything that Logan could change, so they didn’t want to make him feel bad about it. “You better get me a souvenir though. To make it up to me.”

    “If a ten dollar bobble-head will fill the hole in your life that is our Friday night virtual movie marathon, then I am glad to oblige.” Logan returned, briefly looking away from the camera to check a paper on his desk. “Your address is the same, yes?”

    “Don’t know how I could’ve changed it without you knowing.”

    “Just checking.” Logan said, marking something down before he turned back towards the camera. “Now, I hate to once more be the figurative bearer of bad news, but I must take my leave- I have a client call in a few minutes here.”

    “Skip it.”

    “I do have to keep my job, Ro.”

    “Your new job can be loving me, twenty-four seven, benefits are spending all your time with me.”

    “And how much does loving you pay?”

    “Did you not hear about the benefits? They’re better than money!”

    Logan just laughed fondly. “You are cute, I’ll give you that.’

    “So you’ll take up my offer and your new job?”

    “Sadly, to function in the real world, I need a cash-paying job.” Logan told them, smiling at Roman’s following pout. “But if it alleviates your pains, know that I already love you twenty-four seven.”

    At that, Roman allowed their pout to morph into a smile. “Well, look at who’s being cute now.”

    “I’m simply stating the facts.” Logan replied, glancing at his watch. “One of which is, unfortunately, that I really must go now. I’m worried I’ll be too busy tomorrow to chat- I’ll call you on Saturday, alright?”

    “Oh, my star, my sun, my only light through the darkness and troubles that are this world, however will I survive a whole day without any contact with you?”

    “You are strong, my knight, I’m sure you’ll find a way.” Logan told them in return, grinning when Roman blushed. “I love you.”

    “I love you too.” Roman responded, blowing Logan an imaginary kiss. Logan, as always, indulged them by ‘catching it’ before he turned his camera off, Roman’s screen going dark soon after. As soon as it darkened, Roman sighed, falling back against their bed and shutting their laptop as they did so.

    It was going to be a long day and a half.

    ~

    “Roman? Wh- Why are you calling?”

    “Because I miss you!” Roman whined, not bothering with pretending to not be clingy. “Yesterday was long and dull and completely devoid of true joy and true love! I simply could not bear to wait til you called me! Oh, how I have missed you, my world, my stars, my universe-”

    “It’s barely been a day, love.”

    “Love!” Roman said, ignoring the majority of his sentence and latching onto the important part of it. “I haven’t heard you call me that in over a day! Possibly two! Hell, darling, I’ve been in absolute hell without you.”

    Logan laughed at that, and Roman had never before so desperately wished they were on a facetime, just so they could see the absolute glory that would be Logan’s face while he was laughing. It didn’t matter how many times they had seen him laugh- it would never be enough. Before Roman could say something to that extent, however, their doorbell rang, grabbing their attention.

    “Damnit.” They said, annoyed. Did they have packages coming today? They didn’t think so. And they really, really didn’t want to get up.

    “What is it?”

    “The doorbell- it’s fine, probably just a package or some door-to-door salesperson. Just annoying, interrupting the melodic sound of your laughter-”

    “You should probably get that.”

    Roman groaned and threw their head back. “But I don’t want to!”

    “It could be someone important.” Logan told them. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you get back.”

    Roman groaned louder, but they still swung themself off their couch. “Fiiiine. But when it turns out to be nothing, I’m going to… I’m going to…”

    “Yes?” Logan asked, in a much too smug way that suggested he knew perfectly well Roman had no way to end their threat.

    “...I’ll think of something.” Roman said vaguely, ignoring Logan’s following chuckle of disbelief and amusement. Shaking their head, Roman moved the phone from their ear to the side of their neck, muffling the speaker as they opened the door. “Okay, listen, I’ve got some important stuff going on so-”

    Roman cut themself off as soon as they saw who was standing on their porch. Because it wasn’t a salesperson or a dropped-off package- it was a man with a suitcase by his feet, a phone in his hand, and a face Roman would sooner die than forget.

    “Surprise?” Logan said, and that was all he was able to get out before Roman had flung themself at him and wrapped them up in what Roman was sure was the biggest, tightest, most important hug they had ever given.

    “You’re here!” Roman said after a minute of just basking in the magnificence of the moment. They still refused to let go of him, having dropped their phone so that they could hold on solely to Logan, keeping him as close to their chest as possible. “You’re really here!”

    “Well I’m certainly not a hallucination or someone pretending to be your boyfriend.” Logan said, having managed to get his phone into his pocket before returning Roman’s hug. “So I should hope I’m really here, yes.”

    “Yes- but- you’re here! I can see you! I can hug you! I AM hugging you!” Roman exclaimed, knowing they were getting repetitive at that point but not caring at all. They were currently hugging their boyfriend for the first time ever, after all- how could they care about anything else?

    “That you are.” Logan agreed, voice still a professional neutral before he tightened his grasp on Roman and added, “So I am as well.”

    Roman giggled, a mostly involuntary sound that was brought about the sheer joy of the moment. They pulled back from Logan, just a bit, just enough that they could see his face- his beautiful, lovely, gorgeous face, a face that was a million times prettier in real life. “Can I kiss you?”

    “Mhmm- not on the lips. Weird texture.” Logan said, but he was still smiling, unbothered by Roman’s question.

    Happily, Roman pressed a kiss to Logan’s forehead, grinning when they saw Logan’s smile grow. “I can work with that.” They said before moving to pepper the rest of Logan’s face with kisses.

    “If I- if I knew you were going to be this persistent I- I would’ve stayed home.” Logan protested, having broken down himself and begun giggling in between Roman’s kisses, rendering his protests unbelievable.

    “My most beloved, you are a horrible liar.” Roman told him, pressing an extra special kiss to his nose before saying suddenly, “Hey, wait- don’t you have a business meeting you’re supposed to be at?! You can’t be here!”

    Logan laughed. “Roman, my prinx, this is the business meeting. I lied so I could surprise you.”

    Both Roman’s eyes and smile widened as they dived back into scattering kisses across Logan’s entire face, only stopping when Logan pulled far away enough they could no longer reach his face.

    “We are going to get absolutely nothing done if I allow you to kiss me all day.” Logan said, though at Roman’s pout he did lean forwards to kiss Roman’s forehead. “I did take Monday and Tuesday off, but I can’t be here forever, you know.”

    “You say that as if it would be a waste of our time if I used it for little more than showering you in all the affection you deserve.” Roman returned, attempting to resume their attack of Logan’s face.

    Logan pulled back once more, chuckling when Roman immediately began to sulk. “There will be plenty of time for that. But there is also time for other activities, such as one that might have been missed recently…?”

    Roman blinked at Logan, frowning for a moment in confusion before their face lit up in a grin. “Oh! Movie night! We can have a real life movie night!

    “Only if we don’t spend our entire weekend standing on your porch.” Logan pointed out. “So… may I come in?”

    “Of course!” Roman said, finally (albeit regrettably) letting go of Logan so that he could grab his suitcase and come inside. The moment he was within and Roman had closed their door, however, Roman had their arms wrapped around Logan’s waist, smiling as Logan laughed and put a hand backwards so that he could hold Roman’s shoulder.

    “You’re very touchy.” Logan commented, though he didn’t sound annoyed.

    Roman just held him closer. “Two and a half years, my heart and soul and life! So long have I waited for this moment- you wouldn’t hold it against me that I wish to cherish it, would you?”

    “It’s actually been two years, four months, and three days since our first interaction.” Logan corrected them before softening, leaning back and more into Roman’s hold. “But no, I won’t hold it against you.”

    “Good.” Roman said, pressing a kiss to the top of Logan’s head. “Because I have no plans of letting you go anytime soon.”

    Logan tilted his head back so that he could smile at Roman. “Well I should hope you don’t.” He responded, looking fondly at Roman. “Four days aren’t that much time. It would be a shame to waste even a second of them.”

    Roman grinned. “Aw, you do like being cuddled!”

    At the claim, Logan looked down, trying (and failing) to hide the blush Roman could still see blooming in his cheeks. “Maybe just a little bit.”

    Grin widening, Roman shifted as quickly as possible, eliciting a small yelp from Logan as they lifted him up and held him against their chest. “Don’t worry Lo,” Roman began, using their new position to kiss Logan’s forehead, “Four days may not be a lot of time in the grand scheme of things, but it is plenty of cuddle time.”

    Roman expected Logan to protest that, to say that time was the same whether it was in the ‘grand scheme of things’ or in ‘cuddle time’ or any other definiment of time, but he didn’t- instead, Logan just let out a small sigh and rested his head against Roman’s shoulder. “We’re watching Big Hero Six first.”

    “Of course!” Roman agreed enthusiastically, leaving Logan’s luggage behind on the floor as they walked over to their couch before adding (just because he could), “Anything for you, my love.”

    Because Logan was right- four days wasn’t that much time.

    But Roman had plans to make the most of every second.

[wordynerdygurl]

Bruises and Baths

Author’s Note:  Hello everyone!  Something amazing happened over this last weekend.  While millions were watching the “Big Game” some of my mutuals came up with a wonderful way to honor the amazing, talented writers here on tumblr.  @authorspotlight​ is a blog for showcasing a weekly author, at random, just to promote their great work and keep the haters at bay!  Interested?  Follow that blog!  We’ve a great little community starting up and I would love, love, love to see you all there!! P.S. Comments, shares, reblogs are appreciated!!  I love the love!! P.P.S. shout out to the creator of this amazing gif!  >swoon< Summary/ Request:  This story came from a request by one of my sweet little followers.  After a wild night with Loki, you, dear reader are sore and tired.  What does aftercare look like from the God of Lies? Pairing:  Loki x Female Reader Warnings:  References bondage, rough SMUT, then just fluffy, lovey, romantic SMUT

As the back of your thighs met the supple leather of the conference room chair you nearly cried out.  Memories from last night made your knees weak and your panties damp as a jolt of pain shot through you.  It had been like this all day, fraying your nerves and your patience.

Biting back a moan, grabbing onto the conference table's ledge, you willed your wayward body to relax.  One more meeting then back to your apartment upstairs, a cup of tea and a shower.  And Advil.  Lots of Advil.

"Everything alright darling?"  Loki's voice, honey hot, humming in your ear sent a shiver through your aching body.  He knew it wasn't alright.  Oh yes, he knew very well, but you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of needling you.

Trying to sound unaffected, "Me?  Yes.  I'm just fine, thank you."  

Refocusing on the paperwork in your hands, smoothing your skirt over your tender bottom, you gingerly sat for the afternoon meeting.  Perching on the very edge of your chair, back straight, you struggled to appear professional, giving Loki none of your attention.  Could Loki allow that?  Hardly!  

Sliding into the chair next to you, leaning into your space, "I do love your blouse.  High neck line, very demure."  Dropping his voice an octave, "Good for hiding behind, I suspect." 

Attempts to avoid the handsome God, who was so close that his amber scent was swallowing you, were heading out the window.  Loki managed to make your body, your physical being, react to him in ways you couldn't overlook.  

Playing with the chunky statement necklace that lay on top of your turtleneck, intent on ignoring the mischievous man at your side,"Go away Loki."  

Flashing out a silent warning, your eyes peered into his, almost daring him to continue.  With a searching glance Loki settled in beside you without another word.  Too tired and too sore to spar with him, you turned your attention to the presentation Steve Rogers was starting, almost grateful for the droning distraction.

Feeling your eyes drop closed, heavy from your active night and lack of sleep, you struggled to follow Steve's sonorous voice.  Right now it felt more like a lullaby than life saving information.  You realized that this was the most comfortable you had been all day and mentally decided to let sleep claim you.  Apologizing to Steve would be easier than staying awake just now.

Reaching past you for a water glass, Loki made sure to rub his arm across your chest, waking you fully.  A stuttering gasp left you because your nipples, bruised and abraded, were purposefully agitated by Loki's intentional fumbling.  "Fuck, Loki!"  Whispering for him alone, you glared at his smug smile, now awake and more than slightly aroused.

"What?  Is something wrong?"  His innocent act was almost as irritating as the rub of your clothes against your abused flesh. 

"You know damn well what's wrong."  Steve was staring at you, clearly aware that you and Loki had both checked out of his talk. But it was too late.  The meeting was over, as was the workday, and you couldn't have been more relieved.

Rising as quickly as your bruised knees allowed, you scooted out before you could be chastised by your leader, trying to outrun Loki too.  It didn't work.  

He caught you outside the elevator, gripping your wrists tight, pressing his normally delicate fingers against the bracelet of welts you sported today."Shit, Loki!  That hurts!"  

Instantly releasing you, Loki pressed the call button, a frown creasing his noble brow.  "Did you put the lotion on today?  The cream I left for you?"

Tugging at the hem of your skirt, hoping no one could see your purple marked thighs, you denied Loki eye contact.  "No.  I forgot alright?  But, ya know, this… this sucks."  

Arriving with a ding, you both boarded the elevator, the conversation on hold.  In the privacy of the lift, pushing you into the mirrored wall, Loki's mouth dropped to yours.  Denying him your lips, you turned away, pouting a little.

Chuckling darkly, "Hard to get, is that it pet?  Isn't this what got you into trouble last night?"

"Don't remind me about last night.  How could I possibly forget?  Every time I move, every step I take, I can feel it, Loki."  Your words are angry but your tone?  That's whiny.  Loki's just so close to you.  And your body, betraying, pushes your chest out craving more connection, even if it makes you bite back a whimper.

Missing nothing, Loki's voice full of sin, "Are you saying that it's my fault you can't sit properly?  Or... that I'm the reason you're covered from throat to wrist?"

"Um…"  That is exactly what you were saying, but with Loki nipping at your earlobe you were forgetting why.  

Humid breath husked across your throat carrying the scent of Loki's afternoon espresso.  Tracing your jawline with his talented tongue, Loki tisked at you, "Am I the reason you can't walk straight this morning?"  Uh oh.  This is exactly what he wanted.  Admission of submission.  

His hand slid under your skirt, lifting it higher as he nosed against your jaw.  "Because I loved sucking everyone of those hickeys on to your body while you were handcuffed to my bed, mewling with need."

"Loki…"  You felt your center blaze to liquid life.  Nuzzling into your covered neck, Loki's arms course over your own, raising them over your head.  Pinning you against the mirrored wall of the ascending elevator, "Those breasts of yours, so soft, so full, are covered in my fingerprints.  I can still taste your firm, tight nipples.  Licking them and biting them while you cried my name was so enticing, pet."

God, you remembered it all.  Each affliction, each sharp touch, roaring to life in your mind.  Recalling the sexual adventures of the night before was making you weak willed and warm. 

Stopping at your floor, the doors parted on a thankfully empty hallway.  Taking you by the hand, Loki pulled you toward the room you shared, causing you to stumble over your heels.  "Keep up kitten…"

Holding the door for you, Loki slapped your bottom as you passed by.  Somehow your legs kept you upright but you still yelped at the stinging smack.  Fresh hurt washing over the embers of yesterday's rough play set you whimpering.

Coming up behind you, wrapping you up in his iron banded arms, "Take off your clothes."

Without waiting for a reply, Loki crossed the floor, shutting the bathroom door after him.  Your mind wanted to resist his domineering demand.  The rebellious side of your nature needed to, but your body was already flush with want.  

Interest piqued by Loki's behavior, desire drawing your hands to act without direct input from your brain, you slipped off your shoes.  With a sigh, your sore shoulder stretching, you shrugged off your top, letting it drop to the floor.  It was shortly joined by your skirt.

Popping his dark head around the bathroom door, "Darling?"

Seeing you in your underclothes, looking more exposed than if you were fully bare, Loki licked over his bottom lip.  Sexy as hell, that's what you were, covered in the lavender and scarlet stains of his passion.  Although, if he was honest, maybe he had been too rough on you last night.  

Turning as he neared, you noticed his jacket was gone, shirt sleeves rolled up.  Those strong forearms, which could hold you down and force your pleasure from you, or gather you into a bone cracking hug, were on delicious display.  Loki was so impossibly masculine in moments like this, it was no wonder you let him talk you into realizing your wildest fantasies.

Reaching for the hooks on your bra, Loki saw you wince, and it softened him even more.  As happy as he had been to restrain you, taste you, tease you, Loki was now over eager to soothe away your hurts.  Good thing he already had a plan in motion.

"Come on, dove."  Threading his fingers through yours, you trailed Loki to your shared bathroom, the warm scents of vanilla and coconut filling the space.  Almost overflowing, the tub was loaded with creamy lather, tendrils of steam rising from the surface.  It called to your weary body.

Brushing his hands over your shoulders, Loki kissed along the nape of your neck, gathering your hair to one side.  From behind you, he circled your waist, hands slipping under the waist of your panties.  As they slide over your thighs, Loki follows, kneeling in order to help you out of them completely.

With his sturdy size for support you stepped into the scalding water, settling in slowly with a gentle groan.  Sitting outside your bath, Loki used the same hands that had spanked your bottom pink to swipe sudsy soap across your neck, releasing the tension you carried all day.  Following with a soaked washcloth, Loki began to wash you, worship you, with each soothing swipe.

Shifting slightly, you gave Loki full access to your bobbing breasts, hungry for his touch once more.  Dipping under the water, you felt him ghost over your legs, his hands quick, never lingering very long.  You were cooing quietly, Loki getting high on the soft sounds escaping you at each pass of his palms.

To him you sounded like a happy cat, purring in pleasure, unwound.  Eyes closed, leaning into the back wall of the deep tub, Loki could swear you were melting.  "May I… may I wash your hair?"

His request was whisper soft, just shy of timid, and so adorable that your heart fluttered at his sweetness.  Biting your bottom lip, nodding, you put yourself completely in Loki's capable hands.  "Keep your eyes shut, dove."

"Yes…"

Pouring smoothly, Loki traced the flow of the water, separating your hair with his dexterous digits.  Heavily lidded eyes watched Loki, the God of Mischief, as he poured shampoo into his hands.  Once he was happy with the lather, Loki began working in slow circles, savoring the sensation of your scalp under his fingers.

"Tip you head back, sweetling."  Using a hand to keep soap from your eyes, just like a protective mother might, Loki emptied his pitcher over your head.  Shivering as the suds sluiced over your heaving chest, you were overcome by the erotic gentleness of your lover.

After rinsing your hair free of bubbles, Loki kissed your upturned forehead, then shifted so that his folded arms laid on the lip of the bathtub.  Watching you like that, resting his chin on one arm, the other playing in the cooling water, he was content.  

Reaching for his wet fingers, "I think you missed a spot, babe."

"Hmm… did I?"  Breaking through the scented suds, Loki's hand slid over your slippery skin, grazing your thigh.  Moaning gently, his light touch thrilling, you tipped your head back.  Enjoying Loki's quiet exploration of your body, his eyes never left your face, "Gods, you're gorgeous."

Smiling, "Aren't you the God of Lies?"

"I have no reason to lie to you, kitten.  And here, now, you are a beautiful water nymph.  Tempting and taunting me from your watery lair."

Laughing lowly, "I am no temptress, Loki."

"I beg to differ."  His fingers found your fluid folds, two entering you slowly, as Loki leaned in to kiss you deeply.  Skimming over your bottom lip, Loki's tongue licked into you, his free hand tangling in your clean hair.  Scented water splashed onto the floor as Loki curled his digits against your sweetest spot, soaking him, making you sing out.  

Gasping, you gripped the walls of the tub, letting Loki take care of you as your body shook through its release.  Safe in his care, cherished and clean, your body softened, satisfaction making you sag into the deep water.  When he withdrew, you sat forward, "Not yet, please?"

Using the ledge, Loki rose, chuckling as he lifted your chin. "Take a few more minutes.  I'll be back to dry you off in a bit.  Don't want you to get pruney, do we?"

"Hmm… no we don't want that!"  Sinking back into your warm, wet cocoon, you yawned and shut your eyes.

Too soon, it seemed, Loki was nudging you awake.  "Dove?  The water's cold now… come on, let's get you to bed."

Stirring, you saw Loki holding out a fluffy towel, ready to dry you off.  He helped you stand and made sure you carefully stepped out onto the wet tiled floor.  Wrapping you in the comfort of his big bath sheet, you giggled as Loki dried your tresses, then tucked the towel firmly around you.

Leading you to the best looking bed you had ever seen, Loki unwound your terry cloth covering, "Lay down, pet."

You did, happily collapsing into the comforter, laying on your tummy.  

"This might be a little cool at first…"  Loki's oil filled palms slipped over the sore muscles of your back.  Spending some quality time on your tenderized tush, Loki made sure to rub you in delicate circles, smoothing the liniment into your hot skin.

After sliding over the backs of your legs and each arm, "Very carefully roll over, alright?"

Muffled by the downy softness of your bedspread, "Yes, dear."

It took you a few moments to follow Loki's direction.  Your body was like melted butter.  Soft and pliant, all of the previous night's precious pains soothed away, you were a mushy marshmallow.

Fingers traced over the bites and bumps that marked you as his.  Stroking oil over your thighs, your belly, your bruised breasts, you let Loki work.  His magical hands anointing you with his attention.

Certain that you had drifted off during his massage, Loki kissed you lightly, gratified that you were comfortable and content.  Straightening, Loki stepped out of his trousers, eager to join you in bed.  When you felt the mattress dip to accommodate him, you turned towards Loki's warmth,"Thank you, babe.  I feel magnificent!"

Gathering you to his side, Loki curled an arm over your middle, his chest to your back.  "That pleases me, kitten."

Twisting around in order to face your mischievous man, "I mean it.  You take good care of me, Loki."

Twirling a lock of your damp hair in his fingers, "That was always the difference between Thor and myself.  I took care of my toys."

Pushing his shoulder, huffing, "I'm not a toy, Loki!"

"I know, I know, it's just I love playing with you so much… You are my favorite plaything.  My darling doll."

Pulling him closer, you pressed yourself to Loki, lip to lip and hip to hip.  You both let the kiss deepen, drawing you tighter together, when Loki tucked his forehead to yours.  "Sleep now, darling."

Nodding with a deep yawn, you let Loki wrap the thick blanket around you, snuggling into the security of his arms.  Arms that could bring you to ecstasy easily.  Arms that could rock you to sleep.  Arms that belonged to Loki... arms that belonged around you.  

To my Minxes:  @lots-of-loki @brokenthelovely @vodka-and-some-sass @iamverity @just-random-obsessions @archy3001 @jessiejunebug @nonsensicalobsessions @thefallenbibliophilequote @mizfit2 @alexakeyloveloki @rorybutnotgilmore @procrastinatinglikeabitch @peterman-spideyparker

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .epilogue v.

just another tuesday

masterlist

Warnings: dub con sex (oral, intercourse)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: Things get a little more complicated.

Note: So this will be the last part for this week (probably lol). As Rebecca Black said, It’s Friday, Friday! And unfortunately that only marks the middle of an 8 day stretch of work for me. I’m tired, I’m hormonal, and I’m gonna try to actually relax in my short hours off. But thank you to everyone who’s been reading along and thanks for the support. I really hope you enjoy (my porn).💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply!

...

The school cafe was bustling as you sat alone at the table, two lattes steamed in front of you. Kylie said she was five minutes away ten minutes ago. You yawned as you checked the time again and looked to the door. She was always fashionably late though you would’ve preferred her on time in rags. 

You hoped her skinny, no foam latte was cold when she arrived. At the same time you didn’t because you had spent five bucks on it. Your leg shook under the table and you looked at your phone. Another missed call. Steve knew you were supposed to meet Kylie but he was calling you anyway. The two of them were bound to drive you wild; Steve’s presence and Kylie’s absence were too much to deal with at once.

You sensed a presence and glanced up expecting Kylie. Your lips parted in surprise as Bucky stood across from you. He held a paper cup as he smiled down at you. 

“Having a little wake me up before you start on those edits?” He mused.

“Uh...yeah, I…” Your tongue was clumsy though you couldn’t even think of words to say.

“Classes today?” He asked.

“Um, yeah, noon til seven,” You batted your lashes unthinkingly. “Midterm tomorrow morning.”

“So...I guess you’ll be busy studying then,” He lifted a brow. “No time to waste.”

You realized what he was hinting at. You’d already allowed Steve to weasel in on a study night, you really didn’t want to make your mistakes habitual. 

“Not really,” You said nervously. “I--”

“Sorry I’m late, I--” Kylie stopped just beside Bucky and looked over at him. Her eyes brightened and she smiled as she dropped her phone on the table. “Uncle Bucky!” She threw her arms around him.

“Uncle?” You echoed as she parted from him.

“You know Kylie?” His blue eyes narrowed as he thought.

“We’re friends of course,” Kylie trilled. “You do know I have more friends on campus than you, don’t you?”

“Well, it just so happens, your friend is in my communications class,” He countered. “Smart girl, wonder how she ended up with you.”

“Pfft,” She scoffed and pulled out the chair to sit. “Sure. You seen dad? He’s in town to see you, isn’t he?”

“Business. I just happen to be at a convenient distance now,” He returned. “I saw him the other night.” His eyes flitted over to you and you looked away. “He seems well.”

“Yeah, didn’t see him much this summer but when he drove me up in September he was...less of an ass than usual. Not so much when he dropped in a lectured me at my dorm.” She rolled her eyes. 

“You know me, I never give a lecture off the clock,” He chuckled. “And he never does without reason.”

“Well, you know,” She sighed, “I used my emergency card for a Louis Vuitton but it really was an emergency.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, it matched my shoes,” She snickered. 

“Hmmp,” He shook his head. “Well, I’ll leave you girls to your coffee. I’ve got a class to get to.” He looked between you. “Oh,” His eyes fixed on you and his tone steadied. “Don’t forget our meeting at seven-thirty. Right?”

“Uhhh…” You peeked over at Kylie as she sniffed at her latte. “Sure. Y-yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Good. We have a lot to talk about.” He cleared his throat. “Regarding your paper.”

You nodded and he said one last goodbye. You watched him go and your stomach turned. Shit. He was smart, he was a professor after all, and you knew he must’ve connected some of the dots. Kylie was too invested in her phone to notice your discomfort. You sipped your latte and shook off the butterflies.

“So, how was the midterm?” You asked and she lifted her head, a momentary pause before she registered your question.

“Oh, you know what? I don’t think I did half bad.” She perked up. “Sat next to this guy who’s gaga over me. Still got acne but he’s also first in the class. Very neat writing.”

“Christ, Kylie, you always find a shortcut, don’t you?” You snorted.

“Oh, shush, if you’d helped me study I wouldn’t have been so worried about failing.” She chided. “What was it that kept you? You’re rarely too busy for a study date.”

“My own schoolwork,” You retorted. “And my preference for peace and quiet.”

-

Your classes went quickly to your chagrin.You dreaded your impromptu meeting with Professor Barnes. Had he guessed everything? What did he think of you now? Did he regret what happened in his office? Did you?

As you climbed the stairs, you recalled the previous day. How he’d walked beside you up the flights and led you into his office. Closed the door even. He never sat but stood close. It had all been so deliberate. Calculated even. If you had deceived him, surely he had done the same. Enticed you, at the very least.

You knocked on the door. The halls were empty. The other professors were either in a lecture or at home with their stack of student papers and glass of aged scotch. The door opened and you flinched. He checked his watch and stepped back.

“Early, as always,” He waved you in. You placed your bag beside the chair and sat. He moved around and glass clinked as he neared the other side of his desk. He set down two short tumblers and opened his drawer. “Whiskey?”

“Whiskey?” You repeated.

“The least of your sins in this office,” He kidded and poured. He slid a glass over to you without awaiting your ascent.

“Thanks,” You took it and stared into the dark alcohol. 

Your fingers tapped on the glass nervously. He took a long drink and set his back on the desk. You avoided his gaze as you waited. Silence.

“I was gonna work on the revisions toni--”

“You knew Steve already, didn’t you?” He asked. You nodded and looked at him. You took a sip and winced at the burn of the whiskey as it trickled down your throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged and took another gulp. “I don’t know, I...was nervous. I wasn’t expecting to see you there--”

“Wait,” He leaned forward as brows drew together in realization. He blinked and his lips twitched. “Was he the friend you were meeting?”

“N-nooo,” You said. Even you weren’t convinced. He slapped the desk and laughed.

“Don’t tell me you’re fucking your friend’s dad,” He grinned and grabbed his glass. “How fucking precious. I knew--” He took a swig. “Especially after yesterday, you’re not such a good girl after all.”

You stared at him. Mortified. The glass slipped from your hand and you pressed yourself back against the chair as you watched the whiskey splash across the carpet. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” You bent and picked up the glass. “Shit.” 

You looked around and he stood calmly. He grabbed a wad of kleenex from the box on his desk and knelt to dab the carpet around your feet. He didn’t say anything until he finished. When he stood, you tried to as well but he caught your shoulder and pushed you back down.

“Stay there,” He tossed the tissues and slipped between you and the desk, leaning on it as his eyes bore into you. “So, are you sorry for spilling the whiskey or lying to me?”

“Both,” You pouted. “I didn’t--I only...followed his lead.”

“Does he know about us? Or have you lied to him too?” He tilted his head.

“He knows,” You admitted. “He didn't really care.”

He nodded and his eyes wandered as he thought. A smirk spread slowly beneath his beard and he stood. “You remember how I fucked you. I want your hands on that desk. Just like before.” He sidled away from you. “Now. And don’t you move them.”

“What--”

“Quiet.” He snapped. “Now, be a good girl.”

You looked up at him and he crossed his arms. You pushed yourself to your feet and nudged aside your empty glass. You set your palms on the desk and slid your feet back just a little. He moved the chair as you craned your head to watch him. 

“Eyes forward,” He said sternly. “You see, when you’re bad, you have to be punished. That’s just the way this has to work.” He neared and reached around you. He unbuttoned your fly and pushed your zipper down. “Now, I’m not mad that you fucked him. You obviously have a certain taste in men. I’m upset that you lied to me. Disappointed.”

He shoved your pants down  around your thighs.He spread his large hand across your ass. You blinked and resisted the urge to look back. He pulled his hand away and your brows furrowed in confusion. He slapped your ass and you yelped.

“Shhh,” He rubbed your ass and smacked you again. “Don’t go getting yourself into more trouble.” He struck your ass a third time. “Good girls take their punishment. Quietly.”

You bit your lip and hung your head. As he continued, you breathed in time with each impact. Your nails scratched the wood of his desk and you shuddered as it stung a little more with each smack. You counted twenty before he stopped. You were trembling and out of breath. Your body was on fire.

He pulled your pants up over your ass and you flinched. He backed away and strode around the desk. He sat heavily in his chair. He grinned at you as he unbuckled his belt. “Now, show me your sorry.”

He pushed his fly open and pulled out his cock. He pointed between his knees and tilted his head. You hesitantly pulled your hands from the desk and stood straight. You buttoned your fly and stepped around the desk numbly. As you neared, he rolled his chair back just a little and tapped his toe.

You knelt before him and lowered your eyes to his lap. Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock. His hand rested on his thigh and his cock twitched. He rubbed circles on his thigh and brought himself closer to you. You wrapped your fingers around him and pressed your lips to his tip. He let out a long breath.

You took just his head in your mouth and swirled your tongue around it. He gasped. His hand gripped the arm of his chair and you took more of him, a little at a time. You pulled back at every inch as your saliva slickened his length. Your lips met your hand and you slid your mouth and hand along his cock. 

He groaned and you kept your motion steady. He spread his legs and lifted his hand from his thigh to grab the back of your head. He guided you faster as his breath hitched. He hit the back of your throat over and over and the sloppy slurps and gags filled the room.

“Fuck, fuck, stop, stop,” He rasped. “Whew.”

You sat back on your heels and let him slip out of your mouth. He leaned his head back as he gathered himself. You looked up at him hungrily. You didn’t want to stop. You wanted him to cum in your mouth. You wanted more.

“Sit in my lap, baby,” He sat up and patted his thigh. “Come on.”

You undid your pants and rolled them back down. You were only too eager to listen. You’d thought the first time would be the last when you arrived. You were glad it wasn’t.  You moved back and reached behind you. 

You grabbed the arms of the chair and he lined himself up. He slid between your folds and you sank down on him entirely. You moaned and he gripped your hip. You lifted your pelvis and crashed back down. He helped you as you moved atop him and he snaked his hand around you. 

He dipped his fingers down and played with your clit. He drew circles as you rode him and gritted your teeth as you tried to stifle your moans. The chair squeaked as it rocked below him and you felt the flurry as it filled your core. You quivered and quaked as he forced the orgasm from you. 

He pulled his hand away and grabbed your other hip. He stood, still inside you and pushed you against the desk. He grasped the back of your neck and forced you down until your cheek was to the wood. Your legs were trapped in your jeans as he fucked you relentlessly. Each thrust was harder and deeper. He grunted as the desk groaned beneath you.

He slapped your ass as he pounded into you. You buried your head beneath your arms as you held in your murmurs. 

“Are you sorry?” He growled.

“Yes,” You rasped. “Yes, I’m sorry, Professor. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” 

“I’m sorry I lied, Professor,” You whined as you lifted your head. You were cumming again and your entire body radiated with suffocating heat.

“Good girl,” He squeezed your ass and rutted into you. 

He gave several long thrusts as he snarled and pulled out suddenly. He came on you, his cock against your pussy as he bent over you and panted in his release. He rested his weight on you as you laid breathless in the warmth of his body and the afterglow.

“I forgive you, baby,” He kissed your cheek softly. “Now go study,” He lifted himself and smirked down at your dripping pussy. “And get those edits done.”

[legend-waitforit-harry]

The Only One part 17

You are too exhausted to even pick your head up from your pillow. Your face burning with the blood rushed to it. Pushing the urge to scream into your pillow again you try to smother yourself hard into it.

Fine.

Fine?!

Who says fine when somebody proclaims their love for them?!

You do, apparently.

With sheer disgrace you give another attempt at getting out of your bed. After storming out of Harry's chamber in a fury of being defeated in your argument with his solemn confession of love for you, you barely got any sleep despite your tiredness.

As the anger washed away and the embarrassment crept over you the scene played over and over again in your head as you cringed harder everytime.

Why is it that you never have a control on what you do and those actions embed deep in your mind disturbing you in the most unwanted moments? And not only was your sleep important because it was a big day for you as it was the first day that you'd take up your responsibility as a Queen but also you needed the strength to face Harry after yesterday's childishness.

You cannot even start to think how furious he must be after you acted out like that. He didn't even attempt to see you as he sent the invitation for the court in the hands of your maid. You'd think that he won't even call upon you to go to Court with him if he did not have to. And he'd be right about that.

So you somehow drag yourself around getting ready, pushing back the flashbacks of the other day again and again, to at last be presentable on time. And when you arrive outside where Harry has asked you to meet you half expected to be greeted by a servant again instead of him. But there he was, smiling brightly at you as if nothing happened. As if you didn't just reject his affection and storm out his chamber just the last night.

"Hey, there ready for the big day?"

He tries to sound excited but you can tell he didn't get much sleep either. But creeps on you.

"Any tips?"

He holds your hand as you get into a boat not manned by Chiron for a change.

You don't want to set Harry off before he guided you into what you'd be doing for the rest of life. In fact you don't want him to be upset about your yesterday's silliness at all and make him forget about it as soon as possible. So talking about the present is the best thing you suppose.

"Try not to dose off"

You look at him surprised but he just smirks at you. Obviously.

When you reach the Court of Judgement you get flashbacks of the last time you were here. You felt so differently about Harry at that time. Ready to fight the world for him. Maybe you still would.

You nod at the Judges who are seated on their pedestal as you sit on your throne beside Harry's. And when you have the view of the whole courtroom you see people crowded from all over the Underworld. You want to ask Harry about it but when you turn to him you are met with helm that he slipped into right before stepping into the Court.

But you don't have to wonder for long as Aiakos, one of the Judges that you've come to learn the name of, clears his throat and stands.

"Before the procedures of the Court starts, we have an announcement. Today, on the twentieth of Maimakterion, we have amongst us our Queen. And the citizens of the Realm bow to you to welcome you to your throne" And with this the whole Court bows to you.

Without the trickle of an idea o what to do you turn to Harry who is just smiling at you now watching you blush and fidget.

"Thank for your warm welcome. I hope to not disappoint you" You cringe mentally. But at least that makes everyone straighten up and resume with the proceedings. You turn to Harry with a scolding look but he doesn't even face you as he tries to suppress a chuckle.

The day draws out with each soul begging for your mercy, another chance at life and what not as their sins and virtues are read out. Each being alloted to a place in the Underworld accordingly with no effort from you or Harry. Everything seeming to go by seamlessly. And somehow the buzz of the crowd does make you drowsy a bit and you understand what Harry said before. You wonder maybe that's why he makes it a point to always wear his helm in Court so that he can dose off without anyone knowing. Maybe you should get one made as well.

As the Court adjourns you're almost about to leave. But you are not allowed to step out as Thanatos comes stands in front of you with the statistics of the day. The people who died, their general demography, causes of their death and whatnot. And after Thanatos gave you the brief, which was enough to bore you into sleep, other Gods started coming in with their problems. It seemed that the day will never be over. The problems were mostly petty. Nothing that needed to be thought hard upon and Harry seemed to handle those easily. And you noticed that the Judges have taken a leave as this was the time when Harry was the sole in charge. And all of a sudden you understood why Harry was always stuck in his study working.

You are zoned out when Harry taps on your shoulder to tell you that you're done for the day. And you thank the Fates for it, though you don't want to show Harry that. Heading towards the exit you want nothing more than fresh air and to step out of the Court when you hear your name. You turn around, with Harry who was waking a few steps behind you reaching up to you to face the source of your disturbance. Erebus.

He huffs and puffs as he catches up with the two of you, a smile adorning his round face.

"Erebus. What happened?" Harry asked.

"I just wanted to give my regards to the Queen and personally thank her for taking the role so graciously"

You get nervous with his words like you did in front of the Court, never being used to the formalities. "Thank you so much, Lord. I will do my best at keeping the grace of my title."

"Oh I'm sure you will! And what better way to do that the to have a big wedding thrown to make the three Realms jealous?! At last you've assumed yourself in the position of the Queen, better make it proper." You ended with a hearty laugh.

He surely meant no harm but it make Harry frown.

"Thank you for your kind words but it's been a long day. I will see you around."

You stir Harry away leaving a confused Erebus. Whatever he said surely did not settle with you but you feared that it'd trigger Harry into another state altogether, that even you were not sure of. You remember one night long before when you heard Erebus saying that you didn't belong here. He surely changed his mind now though you didn't know how to feel about that.

You reached the Palace by the time you heard Harry's voice again.

"You did well today."

"For not dosing off? Yeah, that was hard"

"Yeah. Should have warned you about all the paperwork."

"Should have warned me about the surprise welcome party as well"

"Word gets around here really fast. I didn't know either. But I did expect something like that."

"Anyways, it felt good to know that everyone is on the same page."

"Yeah. Mostly everyone"

You look at him suspiciously but he doesn't look like he is going to follow up on that.

"I'll be off to Hekarte then."

Harry looks like he's brewing something in his mind and you still have not overcome your embarrassment from yesterday. So you decide it best to run away before can say something else that will keep you up all night.

But you are not as fast.

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you, lil' one."

You stop. Harry sounds gloomy. You're not used to this version of him. You wish you can just go back to him being a headache with a smirk you hate to love.

"Yeah?" You ask timidly.

"Sit." He instructs you as you both are already in his study. He takes his place on his chair as you sit facing him.

"I am happy that you took your duty and did it so well. I know you will be a great Queen and do your part for the realm with grace and just."

You give him a small smile as your hand reaches for his. He stiffens under your touch before relaxing back and you feel something in you wilt watching him like this.

"I hope so too, M'Lord."

He awards you with a smile. You haven't referred to him with his title in a long time, at least not without a sad note to it.

"I know you'll do your best.... Even if you don't have a big wedding to officiate it." Your hand over his falters. But he holds it and continues. "You don't need to. I get it. If you don't love me do not feel obliged to do any of that. You're destined to be the Queen of the Realm and you will be irrespective of anything else, as I've already told you."

You see it now. You broke him. When you did not reciprocate his confession of love with an affirmation he took it as a rejection. And maybe you sounded like it as well. But you did not mean to! You only remember feeling indignant at having lost your argument that you think you were winning until he played you with his confession. You thought he'd be angry with you for not answering and storming out but now you see how wrong you were. How be took your answer to mean something else entirely.

But the truth was you do love him and love him with your whole being. Since you started understanding him and knowing him there hasn't been an iota of doubt about how felt for him. You might now have named it before but you know it now. You would do anything to protect his honour as you'd for yourself. And you did trust him, despite of whatever you say, to have the best interest for you. And nothing can alter that.

So you did not understand how this God who is known for his clever tactics can be so clueless about your feelings for him.

You sigh and move to him. He straightens up accomodating you as you sit on his lap with your arms draped over his shoulder and you look into his eyes that always reminds you of the dew endowed leaflets of spring. And you surge forward to meet his mouth, as Harry overcomes his surprise and pulls you closer.

He feel him relax under your arms as he sighs and kisses you back like you're the first drop of rain to his patched soul. And maybe you are. So you don't interrupt him until he pulls back to take in a breath and look at you with amusement.

"Did anyone ever mention that you're not as bright of a God as people make you out to be?" He looks puzzled and you giggle. "I love you too, you silly. I was just angry yesterday"

"And you're not now?"

"How could I be when you're moping around like that?! Whatever it was, it's in our past. All that matters is that I'm with you here now."

Harry beams at you with the kind of smile that makes him look much younger and pulls you closer as he buries his head in your chest and you hold him close to your heartbeat.

And you know you're home.

Thanks for reading! Masterlist

[that-writer-who-never-posts]

Mr. Hiddleston

Professor Tom AU (Smut, of course...)

Hello! This was requested a long time ago by @free-young-and-in-love... It took me days to write, but I had so much fun! Professor Tom is my ultimate kink, tbh.

Hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Professor x Student (100% legal, don’t worry), lots of teasing, dirty talk and mentions of sex. Oh, quick mentions of blood, but like... quick. And alcohol.

Like 5k words (Hell, yeah it’s a journey)

         You would always arrive early for Mr. Hiddleston's class. It was your favorite, and you liked to sit on the front row. But not today. Today you would arrive early to find a sit as far as possible from his table.

         After crying yourself to sleep last night, you didn't have energy to pretend everything was okay.

         It all started with a small crush, everyone already had a crush on a teacher. Until your brain started to make up signs that he liked you back. Of course he didn't, he only knew your name because you always got the best grades at his tests. And because you always knew the answers to his questions. Not to mention all the time you spent with him after class, never alone, of course, discussing theories on the books or authors you studied that day.

         But yesterday was different. The classroom started to get empty really fast, not even the three or four other students that liked to talk to him after class remained in there. Just you and him.

         "Looks like today's topic wasn't very interesting."He looks at you with a small smile.

         "Medieval literature isn't for everyone." You try to cheer him up. "It would be impossible to understand those poems without your help. Most people just give up."

         "I like a challenge." He shrugs. "And who said I understand them anyway? I can only guess what they meant."

         You both laughed.

         "At some points I..." You say, a bit shy. "I thought there might be different meanings. But I was afraid to sound stupid. Who am I to correct the professor? Well, not correct, just add some details..."

         "You shouldn't be afraid." He looked really disappointed. "Every interpretation is valid, teachers learn from students all the time. I'd like to hear what you thought."

         Fuck. You didn't want to tell him. You didn't want to say that when he read about the purest kinds of love, you felt a heat building up between your legs at the thought of him being yours in the dirtiest ways. Maybe if you just didn't mention the part that included him...

         "I just... Don't think all that love was platonic." You avoid eye contact at all costs. "When they talk about their lover's skin, it doesn't sound like they never touched it. When they say how soft their lips are... They can't be just watching them by far, never wanting to kiss them, because sins would ruin their beauty. When they talk about how the lady looks ethereal, laying down on a bed so white like the clouds, she could be having an orgasm. And her sweet voice isn't heard singing or praying, but moaning..."

         He was speechless, staring at you with wide eyes. The atmosphere in that classroom was unbearable. His heart was  beating so fast, he was afraid you could hear it. Little did he know, yours wasn't any slower.

         "I think you went a bit too far." He knew he had to say something and act like your words didn't affect him. "The church would never allow this content."

         "That's why they pretended they were writing about impossible women, when they actually hid their affairs like they hid the lust in their poems." You explained.

         "We can't say that." He started to gather his books, to leave as soon as possible. "Good imagination can make literature more interesting, but there's not a hint in the texts read on today's class that could lead to that. Maybe your decision to keep it to yourself was wise."

         You felt like the biggest idiot in the world. He was obviously mad at you, because you were ridiculous and inappropriate. He didn't even say goodbye before walking away. A man like that would never actually like you, would he? Well, now he hated you.

         The sound of the bell woke you up from the embarrasing memories. But it got worse. As soon as he walked through the door, you just wanted to stop existing. What were you doing there anyway? But you wouldn't leave college because of a silly argument you didn't win. Your future is bigger than any man.

         He entered the classroom, not acting any different from other days. Until he looked at the chair you'd usually sit on, and saw it was empty. His heart stopped for a moment. Was he too hard on you? He didn't want you to stop taking his class. You were so special. As a student, of course.

         But who was he trying to fool? He didn't see you as just a great student. From all the conversations you had, he found you an amazing woman. He caught himself, more than once, wishing you met in different circumstances. He should never be interested in a student, risking his career and, mostly, making him feel creepy and wrong. Didn't matter that you were old enough to decide for yourself, he felt creepy and wrong.

         Hiding his concern, he started giving the class some instructions. Looking around the space, his eyes landed on you for a second and continued their movement. But when his brain realized, he turned his head in your direction as fast as possible.

         You were sitting in the back, the most brilliant student side by side with those who only came to sleep or stay on their phones. He watched you for a moment. You had opened your book like he asked, and was now reading. As the class continued, he didn't take his eyes off you. And you didn't look at him, not even for a second.

         The bell announced the end of your suffering. You don't remember ever getting up so fast to leave a place.

         "Y/N." He called quietly when you approached his table, rushing towards the door. He didn't want everyone hearing him calling your attention like a child.

         You froze right where you were.

         "Would you mind staying five more minutes?" He asked. "I need to talk to you."

          You tried to lie, say you have something important to do, but you wanted to stay. So you just nodded, without looking at him.

         So Tom quickly answered the questions of a group of students, wishing they would leave as fast as yesterday.

         As soon as they did, Tom turned to you and tried to find the words. All those books he read never helped him to deal with you.

         "I'm sorry about yesterday." He started. "I shouldn't have told you you were wrong. As I said, every interpretation is valid."

         "There's no need to apologize." You still wouldn't face him. "I was very inappropriate for a classroom."

         He didn't know what else to say. Any teacher would actually find your point of view interesting. But hearing you say those things with such passion... He was aroused. And he didn't want to be.

         "But I have to go now." You said impatiently. "Excuse me, sir."

         "Oh, of course." He nodded, watching you walk away.

         He didn't want to let you go without actually solving this. But what would be the solution? Giving in to the desire he felt? Maybe it would be better if you just became more distant. It would be safer.

         His apologies didn't make you feel better, but you hoped it was the end of all this and he would just keep doing his job, you would keep attending to his class and that's it. No more afterclass time.

         You arrived at your apartment and didn't want to study. Whenever you read those poems, you would picture him touching you and it was too painfull right now. Maybe he was right, there was no mention of sex in those texts, it was all your imagination, just like you imagined you were special to him.

         It was friday night. A college girl should be preparing herself to go out, not to suffer in her pyjamas all night. You knew there would be a party at the college campus tonight. You texted all your friends and nobody wanted to go... Bunch of nerds. Says the first person who would ever turn down a party invitation. But dramatic times call for dramatic measures.

         You put on a black, tight and short dress, high heels and a red lipstick. You wanted to feel powerful. Maybe even meet a boy at the party who would make you forget your teacher.

         You called a cab, because you planned on drinking. You weren't really used to it, but tonight was an exception for pretty much everything.

         When you arrived there, you saw many people you knew, but never talked to. Well, now was the time, and the best thing about it was that no one would remember it on monday.

         You approached the bar a bit shy. It wouldn't work like that, so you asked for a shot of tequila, to get a little more friendly. Two more shots, a beer and a colorful drink, you didn't even know the name, after, you were VERY friendly.

         You were watching some boys playing a game and cheering with them like you were childhood best friends. One of them started to talk to you, and you weren't really paying attention, until you realized he was flirting. Now was your time. All you had to do was flirt back. But your brain wasn't working really well.

         "What?" You almost screamed, because of the loud music.

         "I asked if you have a boyfriend." He repeated.

         "I don't know." You laughed.

         He looked at you confused. You told him to wait and went to get another beer.

         You went to the bar and got the beer. But never came back to where the guy was. You decided to explore the campus at night. It felt so wrong, it turned you on a lot more than that random dude. So you held your bottle and started to wander around.

         Soon, the music started to get very distant and there was no sign of a party. Passing a place full of trees, which your drunk mind called cute little forest, you found yourself at the parking lot. It was almost empty, there weren't more than 6 or seven cars.

         Your heart started to race at the idea you had. You took a sip of your beer and put on a psycho smile. Before you could think twice, which wouldn't help at your state, you started to run around the parking lot, laughing like a fool. Maybe it looked ridiculous, but was the only time that night you were actually feeling free and having fun.

          You heard a voice calling your name, but ignored it. You were free.

         You kept running, until you tripped over a traffic cone and fell, breaking the beer on the floor.

         "Oh my god..." The same voice was now running in your direction. "Are you okay?"

         "Yes, please don't call the police." You started to cry.

         "That was really stupid, but I don't think it was illegal."

         The source of the voice kneels in front of you, and when you look up, you start to cry harder. It was Mr. Hiddleston. You couldn't believe he saw you like that.

         "Your hand..." He said, touching it slightly.

         When you looked, you saw it was bleeding a little, you probably cut with the glass from the beer bottle. You looked around your body to see the damage, your legs were all scratched.

         "I'm okay." You said more embarrased than ever.

          "Let me take you to the hospital." He insisted.

          "I don't wanna!" You almost screamed. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

         "I'm sorry..." He never felt so lost, his heart couldn't take seeing you hurt. "What were you even doing here?"

         "What were you even doing here?" You said in his tone.

         "I had to stay and finish correcting the exams and write down the grades to..." He realized he was sitting down on a parking lot, explaining himself to a student. "Y/N... Are you drunk?"

         "Not as much as I wanted to be." You laughed. "I came here... To forget those eyes."

         "Eyes?" He was confused by how slowly you were speaking.

         "His hands... Fuck!" You laughed even harder, laying down on the floor.

         "That's enough." He stood up. He was so angry... He was even more angry because he was jealous. "I'm going to call you a cab, if you're not letting me take you home."

         "No, take me." You winked at him.

         He hoped you were too drunk to notice him blushing. He grabbed your arms amd helped you get up. You both realized at the same time that you dress was ripped amd your left thigh was completely exposed. He tried his best to not look at it anymore.

         "I need your adress." He said as he sat you down in his car.

         "No!" You crossed your arms. "I want to go to your house, I'm tired of mine."

         "I can't take you to my house." He sighed.

         "That's how it goes." You said dramaticaly. "He doesn't give a fuck about me. I swear I'd do anything for him, ANYTHING."

         He was devastated. He slammed the car door at your side and sat on the driver's seat, slamming his door as well.

         "Y/N." He started, squeezing the keys in his hand so tight, his fingers where white. "I am your teacher, I don't want to hear about your love life. Now if you don't tell me where you live, I'll have to call the police to take you home, and I bet they don't have half of my patience with drunk irresponsable teens."

         "I'm not a teen, I'm an adult." You said, but his angry sigh made you spit your adress really quickly.

         You didn't say anything for the rest of the ride. Tom never wanted to arrive so quickly at a destine, because he couldn't stop his eyes from finding your exposed thight. If he felt bad about wanting a student, he wanted to throw up at wanting a drunk student so bad. But you looked so amazing that night...

         He stopped in front of your apartment.

         "Do you have someone to help you?" He asked.

         "No." You said, still a little afraid of being yelled at again. "I live alone."

         He nodded and left the car, opening the door for you and helping you get off, barefoot now, carrying your heels in your hands. He approached so you could throw an arm over his shoulders for support.

         You both froze at that moment. He felt your perfume and your soft touch for the first time. And you could melt at the feeling of his back and shoulder muscles, not to mention how close hour head was from resting on his chest. You could walk by yourself, he knew that. But he didn't want to let go.

         He helped you upstairs, but had to give you some space when you arrived at your front door, so you could find your keys. His body took a while to forget the heat your presence left, and his mind never would.

         "Come in." You said, opening the door.

         "I can't." He said looking at the floor.

         "Why?" You asked hurt.

         "It isn't right, you know it." He replied emotionless.

         "Please." You insist.

         "Goodnight, miss Y/N." He says, turning his back at you. The most painfull thing he ever done.

         You didn't close the door, hoping he would come back. But ten minutes passed and he never did. So you moved on and took the most painfull shower of your life, because of your bruises. And he took the most painfull shower of his life, because he kept remembering he just had to hear you loved another man.

         ---

         The weekend passed so fast. You hated it. You wish you were one of those drunks who forget everything, but your brain kept you up all night, playing all details of your friday night on repeat.

         When the alarm woke you up on monday morning, you thought this was a good day to skip class. Maybe a good week for that. But your conscience would never let you do that. Besides, Mr. Hiddleston's classes were only on thrusdays and fridays. You had plenty of time to get over all that happened, and keeping your mind focused on studying would help.

         Your week at college was pretty normal. Except for an awkward episode, when you spotted the guy you were chatting with at the party and gave him a smile, but he just looked away. You felt sorry for leaving him like that, and felt even worse because you didn't really care.

         Thursday morning finally came. You felt physically sick, maybe even had a fever. All psychological, of course... You gathered all your strenght and got out of bed.

         You sat so far away from the front row in class, you could barely read the board.

         Mr. Hiddleston arrived, looking an absolute mess. He probably slept less than you this weekend. He just started his class, without even saying good morning.

         This time, you kept your eyes fixed on him, but he didn't look at anyone. He wasn't sure if he was more scared of seeing you or of not finding you there.

         Everyone left the class commenting on how weird and rude he was acting, and wondering what had happened. Nobody dared to stay to talk to him.

         But you didn't leave the class. You ignored the bell and sat there. When you were completely alone in there, he looked at you for the first time that day, but looked away quickly. You were so scared of talking to him, but you knew you had to.

         "Mr. Hiddleston?" You said approaching his table.

         He didn't say anything, just froze when you called his name.

        "I..." You continued as you stood beside him. "I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me the other day. And to say I'm sorry too."

         "It was nothing." He smiles weakly. "But if you... allow me to say this... I know it is none of my bussiness, but you shouldn't do that kind of things because of a man. He doesn't seem to deserve you, considering what you told me."

         "He?" You said confused, then you remembered what you say to him while drunk. "Mr. Hiddleston..."

         "You don't have to explain yourself."

         He sounded so hurt. You knew you had already ruined your relationship anyway, so you decided to open up to him. Could it get any worse? You were already sitting far away and avoiding him. Or at least trying to.

          "I was talking about you." You admit.

          He turned to you with pure shock in his eyes.

         "I know." You laugh at yourself. "I'm just a silly girl who got a little attention from her teacher and fell in love. I just... I couldn't help it."

         He still couldn't say anything. He knew he shouldn't... Still all he wanted to do was scream everything he had been hiding for everyone to listen and run away with you.

         "I'm..." You just wanted him to say something. Anything. You felt the tears coming, so you turned your back to him and started to leave.

         He couldn't simply watch you leave. It took him one second to lose his mind, grab your arm and pull you to his chest, turning you around, grabbing your face and kissing you passionately.

         As the surprise passed, you melted in his arms, kissing him back and wondering if it wasn't all a dream. But Tom never relaxed during the kiss, he was hungry for you and guilty for doing that, at the same time.

         "Do you understand how wrong this is?" He says, stopping for air.

         "No." You smiled, looking deeply into his concerned eyes. "It doesn't feel wrong at all."

          "Y/N... I'm your teacher." He insisted.

          "Who cares?" You roll roll your eyes. "I'm an adult. I confessed before you, which proves you didn't force me into anything."

         He thinks for a while. None of you say or do anything, but he's still holding you close. You start to run your hands through his chest, ending on his neck, pulling him close for another kiss. He was still so tense, you needed to make him relax. So you move your lips to his chin and neck, kissing some spots, or just brushing your lips gently on others. He lets out a soft moan, and it was honestly the hottest thing you've ever heard.

         His hands traveled from your back to your thighs, picking you up and sitting you on his table. You continued the kiss as his hands squeezed your thighs and started to go under your skirt. He brushes one finger agaisnt your underwear, feeling it was wet, and you gasp from that feeling.

         "You have no idea how many times I pictured you taking me on this table, Mr. Hiddleston." You say smiling against his lips.

         "Just call me Tom." He says, sounding a little more relaxed. "Are you sure about this?"

         "Very." You place your hands on his belt, and he helps you undoing it.

         You're frustrated you can't take all your clothes off, but what if someone walked in? That feeling surely only made this more arousing. He slowly removes your panties, placing them on the table beside you. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he enters you with one finger. He just couldn't believe he was touching you like that, and neither did you. He removes that soaked finger and uses it to stroke your clit, making you moan and hide your face in his chest.

         "No. Look at me." He said placing two fingers under your chin to lift your head, while still stroking you. "When the professor is in the classroom, you must pay attention to him, understood?"

         "Yes, sir." You bit your lip and don't dare to look away.

         He smiles at you and enter you again, but with two fingers this time, moving them inside you. It felt really good, your moans showed that, but it wasn't what you craved. So you bent a little closer to kiss him again. When your lips met, he started to work his fingers so fast, your kiss became a wild mixture of your lips, tongues, bites and moans. You were running your hands through his abdomen, and they started to go lower and lower, unbottoning his pants. But before you could pull them down, he removed your hands.

         "Please..." You begged. "Fuck me, Tom."

         "I will, darling. I can't wait to." He whispered close to your neck. "But you have to promise you won't scream. I see you moan a lot, that's beautiful, I would love to hear you screaming, but this isn't a good place. So if you are too loud, I will stop. Do you think you can do that?"

         You nodded, knowing you would be capable of anything to finally get him inside you. So he pulled his pants and underwear down, just enough to release his length. And it was even more beautiful than you could ever imagine. He looked at your face, searching for a sign of insecurity, but you were watching his cock with pure fire in your eyes.

         "Please." You repeated.

         "Patience!" He laughed at you. But deep down, he was just as desperate. He wanted you so bad for so long.

         You held on to his shoulders as he slid inside you. You were wet enough to make it easy, but he was too big and it took a while for you to adjust.

         "Is it a problem we don't have a condom?" He suddently remembered.

         "No. I'm on the pill." You said, trying to hide the pain in your voice.

         "Are you okay?" He is really concerned.

         "I'll be." You smiled at him, stroking his face. "Go on."

         He brought you closer to kiss your neck while he started to move really slowly.

         "You were right about those poems all along." He said, trying to distract you. Which was great, because his voice turned you on. "I've desired you from a distance and that could never satisfy me. But being able to make love to you... I could write endless books about how it feels."

         You wanted to say something too, but you couldn't be poetic at that moment. The pain had started to go away and you began to move your hips with him, so he knew he could go a little faster. You only managed to keep quiet, because your lips were against his most of time, because the way he was making you feel was too much to handle.

         When he felt you were ready, he started to fuck you hard. You had no idea how the table didn't break with his fast and deep thrusts. You cried out every name he had: Tom, Mr. Hiddleston, professor... And he couldn't help but moan too, but you couldn't understand what he was saying, you just knew that he was having the time of his life.

         An amazing feeling started in your belly, making you hold even tighter to him.

         "Don't be shy, my beautiful girl." He moaned. "You're so tight around me, I know you're going to..."

         He was interrupted by a loud moan coming from you, so you covered your mouth with your hand and squeezed your eyes shut. You just had an orgasm, but you didn't want him to stop, you wanted his cum inside you.

         "There you go." He laughed a little. It was impossible to get mad at you for that, it was like music to his ears.

         You were still feeling numb and he fucked you even harder, the sight of you orgasming was enough to send him to the edge, and he didn't take too long to come, spilling his warm seed inside you, making you both moan in extasy.

         Before he could recover completely, and a lot before you both wanted, he pulled out and used the first paper he found on the table to wipe the mess you made, not really carrying if it was someone's essay or a blank page.

         He fixed his clothes and you did the same. But now what? You would just walk away and pretend none of that happened? You were too sore to walk, you wanted to stay in there a little more.

         "Fuck, that was amazing." He said, running his hands through his hair, like he couldn't believe what just happened in there.

         "So worth the wait." You smiled.

         "But we can't keep risking ourselves like this." He looked sad.

         Your heart stopped for a moment.

         "We aren't doing anything wrong. What's the problem in this? I don't want to give up on you, I didn't almost killed myself in a parking lot for a quickie on a table. No offense, that was heaven, but there's so much more I want to do..."

         He laughed hard at you freaking out.

         "Well, I want to do a lot more than that too." He said, stroking your cheek with two fingers. "But it can't be like this. Maybe I can look for a job in some other university and..."

         "No!" You cut him. "I won't let you leave your job because of me. Also you're the best teacher I've ever had, I will miss your classes. Look... I'm in my last year, I'll graduate in a few months."

         "I don't want to wait all that." He sighed.

         "Oh, come on!" You gave him your best puppy eyes. "This class needs you. It's for a greater good. Think about yourself as those noble medieval men who..."

         "Don't waste your time with those lies..." He smirked. "You just want me to continue being your teacher because it turns you on, you kinky girl. I hope I still get you this wet after you graduate."

         "Don't worry about that, I'm sure you will." You smirked too. "But just in case, I might continue calling you Mr. Hiddleston."

         "Just don't tell me we will have to wait til you graduate to do that again. Only to assume our relationship in public, right?" He asked, aroused by the idea of you being his naughty student forever.

         You shruged, picked your underwear up from the table and shoved it in his pocket.

         "You know where I live." You winked. "Pay me a visit someday."

         He surely would. Sooner than you thought.

         It's easy to imagine that his next classes were hell. It was impossible to hide the chemistry between the two of you, so you continued sitting far away from your original place on the front row.

         Obviously, you made out a few times on that table again, but your house allowed the two of you to be as loud and naked as you wish. And that's how the months passed.

         On your graduation ceremony, Tom met your parents. They didn't know about the two of you yet. But it was a matter of time, since after that day, you were just a man and a woman in love, not teacher and student anymore. Except in the bedroom, you liked a little throwback in there.

         "Your teacher is very handsome." Your mom pointed out as soon as Tom left.

         "I bet you paid so much attention to his class." Your father added, in a jealous/protective tone.

         "You have no idea..." You looked away to hide a smirk.

---

taglist:

@spidey-holland7 @theoneanna @inlovewith3 @too-cold-for-youhere @princetale @lokilvrr

[my-emotional-self]

Forever Ago Chapter 9

Pairings: Chris Evans x OFC

Warnings:  Angst, Swearing, Fluff

Summary: After losing touch with your childhood best friend after graduation, he comes crashing back into your life 15 years later. The feelings you’ve had for him never left you.  But do you forgive him for all those years he ignored you?  Or do you decide he lost his chance with you for good?

After opening up to Chris and letting him know how you had felt, to say you were relieved would have been an understatement.  It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders; years of heaviness suddenly gone as the words tumbled from your mouth.  

But there was something else you couldn’t quite believe; Chris had felt the same way about you. Once he told you about how he started gaining feelings for you right before your parents’ car accident, you didn’t know what to believe.  

You had cried, that was for sure.  Yet you didn’t know if they were tears of happiness, or sadness.  Because of that, you told Chris you needed some time to think about things as he was more than willing to jump straight into a relationship with you as he said his feelings for you never ceased.  The only problem was that you had spent years trying to forget him; wanting him out of your life for the way he ignored you for so long.  

Two days after your talk, you were sitting on the porch of your house; admiring the expanse greenery of the yard.  While you loved New York City and the busyness of it all, this would always be home to you.  But now you were ready to sell the home you lived in growing up; the home you shared with your parents; the home where you first met Chris.  

There was a slight wind as you curled a thick blanket around your body; your feet tucking up under you as you relaxed with your thoughts, trying to decide what to do about you and Chris.  On one hand, he had been your best friend since kindergarten and you knew most relationships that started out as friends first, were usually the ones to survive. But on the other hand, a few years after the two of you went to college, it was as if you didn’t exist in his life anymore.  No more phone calls, texts or emails; nothing.  It broke your heart and pulled you into a deep functioning depression that took years to break out of; you most certainly didn’t want to go down that road again.  

The soft hum of the bristling leaves made your body calm and relaxed, but thinking about everything made your head hurt.  In the distance you heard the sound of a barking dog.  At first it was quiet, far away, but the barking grew louder until you saw a dog run around the corner and straight to you.  It was a tan dog with white on its chest, belly and paws.  

“Well aren’t you just the cutest thing,” you cooed as you took the blanket from your arms so you could pet the dog.  

“Dodger!” the familiar voice of Chris broke through the quiet in the backyard.  Snapping your head up you saw Chris running around the corner and coming to a stop; relief flooding his face when he saw you with the dog.

“He’s yours?” you asked, brows furrowed.  

Chris was breathing deeply as he nodded his head.  He walked over to you and Dodger.  “He was with Scott out in Los Angeles.  They both arrived here late last night.  I was taking him for a walk and the little bugger got off his leash and zipped off like a damn racecar.”  

You couldn’t help but chuckle, wishing you had been able to witness it yourself.  Dodger laid his head on your lap, tongue hanging out as you happily scratched behind his ears.  “He’s adorable Chris,” you spoke honestly, leaning down to give Dodger a kiss on his forehead; his hair tickling your nose.  

“I got him while filming a movie.  We were shooting a scene in a shelter and when I realized that all the dogs were not actually actor dogs and were available for adoption, well, the second I saw him I knew I had to save him.”  Your heart melted listening to the story of how Chris met Dodger.  

Chris came over and sat down on the chair next to you, watching as your fingers disappeared into the thick fur of his dog.  Dodger’s fur was so soft and you couldn’t get enough of it.  You had always wanted a dog, but your dad was allergic to them and by the time you moved into your own place, there just wasn’t enough room for a dog to run around and be happy.  

Dodger seemed to have enough of your attention for the moment and trotted around the backyard aimlessly; his tail wagging happily.  Chris cleared his throat next to you, causing you to turn your head to face him.  It never ceased to amaze you how breathtakingly handsome he was, which made it harder to make your decision.  

“Not to sound like a stalker or anything,” Chris began to say, making you chuckle, “but I saw a large vehicle here yesterday.  It looked like they were dropping off pictures or something like that.”

You cast your gaze down at your hands as they fidgeted on your lap.  “Yeah, umm, they are my photography pictures.  I finally had them developed and framed and I wanted to see them as soon as possible so I had them delivered here.”

Chris knew you were a photographer, but he thought you just photographed celebrities for photoshoots and that was it.  “Can-can I see them?” he asked.

You looked at him, his eyes hopeful and you gave him a soft smile.  “Sure.”

The two of you, along with Dodger, walked into your house and you led him to the living room where all the prints were at.

His mouth parted at the sight before his eyes.  There in front of him, were large prints of the most beautiful photographs he had ever seen. There were pictures of flowers, of the ocean, a deserted road and of trees and forests and animals.  

You stared at Chris nervously, trying to gage his reaction.  “What-what do you think?” you asked hesitantly.  

His eyes continued to scan through the pictures before landing on you.  “Jessica they are breathtaking,” he spoke sincerely; a hand to his heart.  His reaction made your eyes water with affection as the man you had always truly loved, was admiring your greatest accomplishments.  “I had no idea you did this kind of photography.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his admiration.  “It’s more of a hobby I guess,” you replied with a shrug.  

Chris turned to you and grasped your face gently in his hands.  “Jess this is not what I would consider a hobby.  These,” he gestured to the photographs, “are a work of art.  And the world deserves to see how talented you are.” Tears sprung to your eyes as Chris readily wiped them away with his thumbs.  

“Do you mean that?” you asked with a shaky voice; your chin quivering.

He smiled and nodded his head.  “These are without a doubt the best pictures I have ever seen.  I wouldn’t lie to you Jess.”

Your heart clenched at his words.  You knew for a fact he would never lie to you, but he still tossed you out of his life when his acting career began.  With a sigh, you decided it was time to talk about everything and lay it all out on the table.  

“Will you come over tonight so we can talk about everything?  I-I was going to cook some dinner and I think it’s about time we talk.”

Chris’s face showed guilt, obviously from what happened in the past, but he was more than willing to sit down and talk things through with you finally.  “I’d love to Jess.  What time?”

With a sniffle, you shrugged your shoulders.  “Around 7?”

He gave you a soft smile, nodding his head.  Leaning forwards he placed his lips to your forehead for a tender kiss.  “I’ll be here.”

~~~

Later that night you were busying yourself around the kitchen, getting ready for Chris to come over for dinner and talking.  You plated the steak and vegetables on the plates and placed them on the table in the kitchen just as the doorbell rang.  

Chris was standing at the door with a bouquet of flowers in hand and a bottle of wine in the other. A smile graced your lips as you took the flowers from him, inhaling the delicious scent.  “Their beautiful Chris, thank you.”  

Dinner was a quiet affair; the two of you too busy being hungry to do much talking.  Luckily the wine helped you relax as you were nervous for this big talk with Chris.  You clearly knew what he wanted, but you were still torn about what to do.  

Chris helped you clear off the table and clean up.  Afterwards you both grabbed your glasses and the bottle of wine and headed into the living room.  Sitting on the couch, you saw Chris admiring your photos yet again.  

“So,” Chris began, taking a sip of his wine, “you know what I would like out of this.  I want a relationship with you Jess.  I feel like I screwed this up back in high school when I didn’t pursue you.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, you cast your gaze down at your lap.  “You hurt me Chris.  All those years I was trying to figure out what I did wrong to make you want me out of your life.  And when I finally came to the conclusion that I didn’t do anything wrong, I decided to just try and forget about you.”  You snuck a peak at him and you saw him nod his head at your words.  He knew he was wrong with what he did and he wished he could take it all back.  “It was hard at first.  I grew very depressed, knowing I lost my best friend.  But over time I was able to forget you as much as I could.  Then you came waltzing back into my life at Sebastian’s party and my feelings for you came bubbling up to the surface again.  I just-I just don’t know what to do.”

Chris got up from his chair and kneeled in front of you.  He grabbed your hands with his as his eyes were pleading.  “I know I fucked this up Jess.  I’m so fucking sorry.  I was a stupid kid in the entertainment world and I lost who I really was.  I can’t believe how stupid I was back then.  I didn’t care about anything or anyone’s feelings, least of all yours.  I can’t regret enough how I treated you and I don’t blame you one bit if you never forgive me.”  Chris had tears in his eyes and because you had known him so long, you knew they were sincere; your own tears emerging at your eyes.  

It was a constant battle with your brain and your heart; tearing you in two directions.  It was everything you wanted, to be with Chris since you were in high school.  But then he moved away, and everything changed.  It was as if you meant nothing to him; causing your life to spiral out of control.  What would happen if he were to do that again?

“But-but what if you decided you didn’t want to be with me after we started dating?  What would happen to us then?  Would you just ignore me again?  Because I don’t know if I could handle that again Chris.”

Chris shook his head quickly.  “It wouldn’t happen baby.  I know what I want.  I don’t want some actress to date.  I don’t want anybody in the lime light.  I want you. I want somebody who I’ve loved since I was a teenager.  I want somebody who feels like home and that person is you.”

Your tears were cascading down your cheeks as Chris spoke; your heart hanging onto his every word.  You wanted to believe him, to give him a chance to prove himself to you.  But you were terrified of what was to happen if things didn’t work out.  

Tag List: @badassbaker @guera31 @princess-evans-addict @tanelle83 @xjjlex @chrisevansfanfic @joannie95 @pumbibaby @patzammit @brastrangled @mrs-captain-evans @notyourtypicalrose @sfreeborn @esoltis280 @xxloki81xx @bornfortherainydays @jinoraskies @poerebel @livslookingforloki

[rdmfavcpls]

Pray For the Fish

Title: Pray for the Fish

Category: Digimon

Pairing: Ami/Arata

Rating: M - language

Summary: Ami suddenly wishes that her knowledge of the English language wasn’t so great.

Prompt: “This is a totally inappropriate soundtrack.”

Disclaimer: I don’t own any right to the Digimon franchise or the song.

Author’s Note: If you wish to listen to the song then look up Pray for the Fish by Randy Travis

~~Story Begins~~

Have you ever went to a place that you didn’t want to go to because your friends were going? That proverbial question ‘If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you jump off the bridge with them?’ Have you ever went with your friends because you know someone responsible needs to watch them so they won’t do something stupid and illegal and you were the responsible person in the friendship?  Have you ever went to a place that you had no desire of going to, but you went because your love interest was going and you didn’t want them to be ogling someone else and they forget all about you?

That is the position Arata was in right now.

It was a last-minute plan of hanging out which was supposed to be a girls night out. Nokia wanted to go out and enjoy being single after she broke up with her most recent boyfriend. So, she planned on going to the popular and hottest party place with Ami and Yuuko at the last moment.

By last minute it meant that Nokia planned it an hour before they opened and it was a thirty-minute subway ride from Kamishiro Enterprise HQ. It also took Nokia and Yuuko thirty minutes to get ready.

Yuuko instantly agreed. She loved parties as much as Nokia and she needed to relax. Ami didn’t agree right away but knowing that the two party animals were crazy when drunk, she agreed to go.

Yuugo called Arata and asked him to go with the girls. That’s when Arata found out they were going to a male strip bar and Ami walked out of the room. She wore a black cocktail dress.

He was not going to sit back and let Ami go to a male strip bar. He had no desire to go there, but Arata wasn’t going to let someone else get close to her, even with the fact that they are roommates who were also friends with benefits. 

Especially since he actually wanted a relationship with her.

“So bored,” Ami said from beside him. 

He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting at the bar next to him. She held onto a margarita glass that held pink colored liquid with a yellow umbrella that was standard for her cocktail.

“I thought you females liked this sort of thing,” Arata said.

Ami rolled her eyes. “If I enjoyed this sort of thing that I could just ask you to perform for me.”

“Haha,” he said sarcastically. He took a drink of his water “Good luck with that.”

“I would do it for you if you asked,” Ami said.

“I didn’t realize that one of my kinks was watching people fall on their face.”

Ami laughed. “No, that’s not the reason why I’m uninterested. None of the dancers are my type.”

Arata watched as Ami sat her glass down and lifted her hands above her head. She stretched and Arata took a glance at her long legs.

“You have a certain type?”

“Yes. All of the strippers have short hair. I much prefer to have my hands grip long hair.”

Arata scoffed. “So picky. I wasn’t asking for details. A simple yes or no would have sufficed.”

“Sure it would’ve,” Ami said. “Any sign of the two?”

Arata scanned the crowd. “Yeah, they are by the dancing arcade.”

“They’ll be safe there,” Ami said with a smile and took her drink. She played with the umbrella.

“Isn’t that your first glass still?”  Arata asked. 

“Yeah, I didn’t want to leave the apartment, but someone has to watch Nokia and Yuuko.”

“You know,” Arata said. “You need to relax. I can see the stress just burying you.”

“What do you think I am doing?” Ami said and raised her glass.

“You haven’t even allowed the drink to touch your lips.”

“I thought Yuugo asked you to watch Nokia and Yuuko?”

“He said girls so all three.”

Ami crossed the leg closest to him over her other leg. “And I’ve been a good girl so no need to watch me so closely.”

Arata took a drink of his water to hide his swallow as Ami grabbed the umbrella out of her drink.

“I know how you get when you’re drunk,” Arata said once he finally found his voice.

“I don’t recall you complaining about it,” Ami said spinning the tiny umbrella. “If I recall, you actually enjoy it.”

“No one is going to deny a sexy lady’s wish to walk around the apartment in their lingerie while talking about sexual fantasies and demonstrating it.”

Ami moved the paper umbrella up the side of her leg that faced Arata. He watched the slow journey it made as it touched her dress. 

Damn him and his love for her long legs. For her, in general.

“What are you doing?” he asked as the umbrella was moved over the dress.

“Keeping my mind active, I believe I did say I was bored.”

Everybody gathered where the river runs wider

Arata brought his face close to hers, a primal look in his eyes. “You know you shouldn’t tease me like this.”

At the edge of town

“Arata,” Ami said with a chuckle. “I’ve been teasing you. I may not be as smart as you, but I can read people better than you.”

To see if that Eddie Lee Vaughn baptism

“What?” Ami said looking at the stereo set-up on the ceiling.

Arata growled but pulled back. As much as he would love to take Ami to a dark corner and trap her there. He needed to be responsible. He promised Yuugo that he’ll watch Yuuko and he didn’t have time yesterday or today to go buy condoms even though Ami was on the pill.

Was really gonna go down

“What’s interesting about the ceiling?” Arata said.

“No, the song,” Ami said. “I think it’s some type of Christianity song.”

Folk bet their hard-earned money that water wouldn’t change a thing

Arata coughed. “What? We are in a strip bar.”

“I know! That’s why I’m confused.”

Arata tried to listen to it, but he couldn’t understand it. “It’s an English song.”

“Yeah, but the word baptism has been said,” Ami said and looked at Arata. 

“Funny,” Arata snickered. “We are all sinners in this place and they play a Christianity song.”

They set the odds at a hundred to one his soul would never come clean

“I envy you right now,” Ami said with a pout. “I ruined the mood because of my English.”

Arata shrugged. “We need to watch our two friends anyway.”

She kept pouting at him.

“Stop pouting,” Arata said. “The bright side is that I’ll never look at this place the same way.”

The preacher said, “People take a moment or two”

“I mean that’s a plus, but you’ve been under a lot of stress at work,” Ami said and uncrossed her legs as she noticed one of the dancers kept looking at her legs. Arata noticed it too, but he didn’t know which dancer it was so he could send them a death glare. “Yuugo shouldn’t have you babysit when the workload he gives you is too much for one person.”

Arata watched as Ami looked down. 

“He wants it to be done right so it’s fine. You have a bigger workload than mine and that’s just from your cyber sleuth job.”

Ami bit her bottom lip. 

There’s something we need to do

“Kyoko fired me,” Ami said quietly.

“Wait what? Why did she fire you? When did she fire you?” Arata said.

“I’m going to go find Nokia and Yuuko so we can leave,” Ami said.

Arata grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. “Why did you get fired?”

“I got injured on a case and was considered a liability,” Ami said. 

“Where?” Arata said with a growl. 

“Hey, it’s nothing serious. I can actually focus on Mom’s translations and edits,” Ami said with a smile. 

“That right there is already a workload but,” Arata said only to freeze has Ami grabbed his jacket. “Ami?”

She pulled herself to him and kissed him hard.

Pray for the fish

She pulled away, but Arata tugged on her arm and pulled her back to him. He covered her mouth with his.

Kami, he was already addicted to her body and while he’s been busy with work, he never realized how much he missed her.

He pulled away from her to sit his glass down and got out of his chair. He helped Ami down from her chair and started to pull her towards the farthest and darkest part of the building.

“Arata,” Ami said when she was pushed against the wall. He blocked her escape with his hands on either side of her head.

“I thought you had a type,” Arata said as he nipped her neck.

“I do,” Ami said. Goosebumps formed on her skin when his hair skimmed against her bare skin.

They won’t know what’s coming

“Do you want to know what - AH! - they are?” Ami asked and blushed when Arata bit her shoulder after moving the thin straps of her dress.

“Yes,” Arata growled into her skin.

When the sins starts rolling off the likes of him

“Long black hair,” Ami said as she tangled her fingers in Arata’s hair. “Grey eyes. A genius who tries to hide that they are a nerd-”

Arata rested his forehead on Ami’s shoulder. 

“Someone who is like a big brother to everyone and a terrible cook.”

He pulled his head back and looked at her at her. “I feel like all those details fit me.”

“Then you would be right,” Ami said with a smile. “Because I only know one person that fits my type.”

Lord, be with ‘em, they ain’t done nothin’

Arata kissed her. He moved his hands down to her hips and held her close to him. Why did he wait so long to kiss her again?

“Kami, I missed you,” Arata whispered against her lips. “What do you say about going to dinner with me?”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

Please, won’t you leave them just a little bit of room to swim?

“What about Yuuko and Nokia?”

“Fuck them,” Arata said. “Especially since now we are exclusive and no more of this friend with benefits.”

Pray for the fish

“Sorry. It’s just that,” Ami said with a laugh. She wrapped her arms around Arata’s neck. “This is a totally inappropriate soundtrack for a strip bar.”

[timelordthirteen]

Killing Time 6/?

Detective Weaver/Belle French, Explicit

Summary: A Woven Beauty Law & Order-ish AU. Written for Writer’s Month 2019.

Chapter Summary: Belle wakes up to a surprise.

Notes: Uh, note the rating change. ;) I'm not even sorry. For the Writer's Month prompt #12: dreams.

Warnings: Please see AO3 for complete warnings and tags.

[AO3]  Previous: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Belle stirred slowly, stretching her limbs and smiling as she felt Weaver’s solid, warm presence behind her.

She shifted and felt something else warm and solid, pressing into the curve of her backside, and bit her lip. He was rock hard and instantly there was a rush of pleasure in her core that made her squeeze her thighs together. Her small movements drew his attention, and he chuckled lightly in her ear.

“Good morning.”

His voice was low and rough, his accent heavy as it always was when he was aroused, and she moaned shamelessly, pushing her ass into his erection. She knew how good his cock felt when it was deep inside her and she wanted it right now, wanted him to help her forget everything about yesterday.

He pushed back and nipped at her neck, and she let out an amused little sound. “Very good.”

The hand that had been around her middle all night, inched upward, brushing the underside of her breasts through the soft cotton t-shirt, and then up to rub teasingly over her nipple. She tried to press forward into his hand and back against his hard cock at the same time, which made him laughed again and kiss his way up the side of her neck.

“Someone’s eager,” he whispered. Then he pushed up on his elbow without breaking the taunting attention he was paying her breast. “Feeling better?”

Belle nodded and twisted her neck, reaching up to pull him down for a heated kiss. When it broke, her lips felt swollen and hot, and his fingers closed sharply over her nipple, giving it a rough tug through the shirt. She cried out and pressed her face into the pillow, wiggling against him to urge him on. She didn’t want to wait, she wanted his hard length inside her, pressing deep and making her scream until she forgot everything but the way he made her feel, whole and loved and beautiful.

Weaver hummed appreciatively and settled behind her again. “You want it right now don’t you?”

His hand moved down away from her chest to pull her leg up over his, spreading her open and making it so he could press the tip of his cock, still covered by his boxers, against her dripping center.

“You want my cock?” He thrust forward, soaking the front of his underwear with her juices, and she groaned. “My fingers?” His hand slipped between her legs, two fingers parting her slit, holding her open but not touching where she wanted him too. “My mouth?”

“Fuck,” she gasped. All of them, any of them, anything he would give her. She needed to come. Her body was so keyed up from the stress of the previous day that she felt like she could barely think straight.

He kissed the side of her face, her jaw, and down to the top of her shoulder where the collar of the shirt was stretched out. His fingers slipped over her heated flesh with a slick, wet sound, gliding along either side of her clit and all the way down to her entrance. Her pussy twitched, needy and hot, trying to draw him inside and give her want she needed, but he ignored it and drew his fingers back up.

Up and down they moved, her hips rocking in time with the motion of his hand as he stroked her. Her arousal was everywhere, coating his hand and sticking to the inside of her thighs. She wanted to close her legs and trap his hand there, give herself just a little more pressure and friction, but he wouldn’t let her. He held her open, sometimes circling a finger directly over her hard, swollen nub, sometimes catching it between his fingers and pinching lightly. But none of it was enough to send her over the edge.

Belle writhed against the bed, wrinkling the sheets as she tried to get more from his hand and rub her arse against his cock. She hoped he’d give in, but she knew he could be a very patient man when he wanted to be, and it seemed he was in quite a mood this morning. Stress affected him differently than her, made him want to seize control. In this case it was control of her body, and she was more than willing to give herself over to him. She trusted him with her life, with her heart even, despite everything that had happened between them, all the bullshit from their jobs, the city, and their own stubbornness.

Finally he pushed his fingers inside her and pressed his palm against her clit. She cried out and strained against him, trying to force him deeper, but instead he curled them, rubbing and playing with a spot that had her twitching in his arms.

“Mmm, there it is,” he said in her ear. She could hear the devilish smile in his voice and moaned. “So wet, so needy, my Belle. Do you need to come, love? Do you want to scream for me?”

“Y-yes,” she managed, hissing out the S sound. “Ian - fuck - please!”

Weaver chuckled again and pulled his hand away. She turned her face into the pillow and whined pathetically, trying to control her breathing as the pulsing in her cunt drove her nearly insane.

“Look at me.”

She let out a shaky breath and turned, rolling onto her back to see him kneeling on the bed. He brought his hand to his mouth and sucked them clean, groaning at the taste of her.

“Please..." she said again, her hips lifting of their own accord.

He shook his head. “Not yet. Not until I’m inside you.”

His hand dropped to his cock, pressing against the front of his boxers and stroking himself through the material. She licked her lips as she watched him, and his grin widened. Then he bent and stretched out on the bed, settling himself between her legs. She whimpered and dug her nails into the sheets at the first sensation of his warm breath on her pussy. He was going to make her wait. He was going to do everything to her until she couldn’t bear it any longer, and then she’d come on the first thrust, the first thick press of him inside her.

He flicked his tongue against her clit, and she jumped, hips lifting clear off the mattress, and he smirked. His head bent, his strong hands holding her legs open, and then -

Belle’s eyes opened wide, her mouth letting out a sharp gasp. She sat up quickly, and looked around, confused to find herself in her office. Pushing herself up on the sofa, she closed her eyes and breathed slowly as her dream faded. Between her legs she was hot and achy, throbbing with need just like in her dream, and she groaned, dropping her face to her hands.

Just then the door to her office opened, and she startled, jumping up off the sofa.

Weaver came in with a file folder tucked under one arm, and the other wrapped around a large white sack.

“Hey,” he said. “You okay?”

Belle shook her head and smoothed her hands down her blouse. “Yeah, just, uh, just dozed off for a few minutes.” She looked around, realizing she had no actual idea how long she’d been asleep. “What time is it?”

“After six.” He set the sack down on the table at the far end of her office, which was currently littered with papers and empty coffee cups. “I finished up my list, and swung by Mario’s,” he continued, pushing the mess to one end to make space for their food.

Then he turned and smiled at her. “Lasagna? Garlic bread?” Her eyes narrowed and her lips started to curve. “Alfredo dipping sauce...”

She let out a contented sound and immediately crossed to the table, smiling. “That sounds amazing.”

He nodded and pulled out one of the chairs to sit down, while she did the same just to his left. There was a bit of sauce on the side of one of the containers, right where he picked it up. He set it down on a napkin, and lifted his hand, frowning at his finger before he sucked it into his mouth. Mario’s sauce was fairly legendary in Hyperion Heights, and to let any of it go to waste was tantamount to a deadly sin.

Belle’s eyes darkened as she watched his lips close around his fingertip, and pressed her thighs together, trying to ease the growing ache. He must have noticed because he gave her a strange look and she immediately averted her eyes, focusing on folding open the wrapped garlic bread.

Fuck.

Four days of working with Ian, and already she was having naughty dreams about him, and getting distracted by the innocuous licking of marinara sauce. What would she be like in a month? In three? One thing was certain, she was not fucking her ex-husband.

That was a recipe for disaster, both for them and the case.

*Jean Ralphio voice* I'm the woooooooorst! So obviously this was a flashback, taking place just after the previous one in Chapter 4.

[taenamseok]

The Great Hoseok

Masterlist

A/N: Sorry its a day late, I wasn’t home and thought it was supposed to be posted today, but it was yesterday. So here it is and chapter six wil still be posted Friday as scheduled. 

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Summary: Life working in a speakeasy was far from boring, but when a new customer catches your eye, he changes your life, bringing a whole new level of thrill. Can you handle it?

"I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life."

Previous/ Next

Chapter Five

It's been almost a week since the first night you've stayed at Hoseok's house. It's been calm for the most part, you both getting to know each other better, talking about your childhoods, your interests, things along those lines. You've learned that his parents are very wealthy people that currently live Chicago, yet he moved to New York on his own at 20 and bought this house. You had asked about the other men you met, yet his only response was that they were friends of his that help him out. You've skipped out on work too, him begging you not to go, saying he'll care of everything.

He'd taken you shopping, out to dinners, basically given you everything you've asked for. He's treated you like a princess ever since you've arrived, and when you ask why, he tells you "Because you deserve it." You don't know what you've done in your past life to deserve this but you gladly accept it. Each time you saw something you lit up, and each time it warmed his heart more and more.

Its Saturday night, and you expected another party, but the house remains empty, aside from you, Hoseok and the staff. You're in the den, relaxing on the couch, your back against his chest and his arms around you as you listen to the radio, you singing along to the songs and him enjoying your sweet voice, as per his request. He told you that besides your looks, what truly drew him to you was your voice, so he had requested you to sing for him countless times since your arrival. He listens to you until Jameson enters the room, leaning over the couch and whispering in his ear. "Now? It's not time yet." Hoseok whispers back. Jameson whispers something back. "Alright, fine. Tell them I'll be there in a few minutes." He sighs, throwing his head back onto the armrest.

"Baby doll, I've got to go handle some business with the boys. I shouldn't take long." He says, rubbing your arms while he moves you so he can get up. "The boys? Like last week?" You ask, looking up at him with a pout. "Yes, like last week." He says. "Can I come? I'll be quiet, I promise!" You tell him. He chuckles, touching your cheek softly as he bends over so his face is in front of yours. "No, not this week, baby girl. I promise I won't take long, then you can have me all to yourself again." He smiles. He pulls you up by your hand, your body pressing up against his as his arm snakes around your lower back, the other firm on the back of your neck. He places his lips on yours in a slow, sensual kiss that leaves you feeling dizzy. He smiles and places one last kiss on your lips before placing you back on the couch. "Just wait for me, baby doll. I'll be back soon."

As you sit there waiting for him, you think about your time spent with him. Although you feel so close to him, you realize that you barely know anything about the business he does. That scares you and intrigues you at the same time. He brought you to his home, takes care of you and treats you better than anyone ever has, yet you can't help but feel like you still aren't a part of his world. You feel simultaneously within and without. You're here with him, but not entirely.

You pout on the couch, crossing your arms as you contemplate what to do. After about 15 minutes of laying there in silence, you hear rustling outside. You get up, glancing out the window when you catch a glimpse of something, something similar to the sleeve of a uniform. You hear whispering and shushes and you get nervous. You know he said to stay, but you need to tell him. You have a bad feeling about it and you decide it's better to be safe than sorry.

You knock on the mahogany door, the noises from inside coming to a halt. The door knob turns, opening to reveal Hoseok. His jaw tightens, looking behind him as he steps out to join you in the hallway, closing the door behind him. "Baby doll, I told you to stay put and wait. You've been so good for me this week, do you really want to disobey me now?" He growls, holding your arms tight. "I-I'm sorry, but I need to tell you that I think someone's outside. I saw a uniform disappear behind the bushes." You tell him, his anger turning to concern, maybe even fear. "Shit." He whispers, looking back to the door. "Come on." He says, pulling you by the arm into the room.

All eyes are on you, the same 6 men from last week around the table. "Oh, hello, Sweetheart, I didn't know you were here." Jin says. You give a small smile to all of them. Hoseok stands behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Y/N, why don't you tell the boys what you just told me?" He says, roughly massaging your shoulders. "Um, I, uh, I saw part of a uniform outside I think, behind the bushes." You tell them. Everyone stands still, their eyes similar to owls. "So who the hell was it? Was it you, Jungkook? Were you so scared I'd do something you called the cops?" Hoseok asks, his tone dark and slightly terrifying, sending chills down your spine. Jungkook quickly shakes his head no, not being able to form proper words.

There's a knock on the door, and Hoseok answers it. Jameson is there, his face pale. "Sir, theres officers at the door that wish to speak to you." He says softly. "Alright, I'll be right there." Hoseok says, causing Jameson to nod and back away. Hoseok looks back at you and the group, fixing his hair and top. "If I find out it was any of you, you better confess your sins now, and pray that hel or heaven lets you in." He says before leaving. You stand there in shock and fear. "I'm going to." Jimin says, standing and walking out the door. You take a step towards it, but a hand around your wrist stops you from going and further. "Come on, Y/N. There's nothing you can do. They've got it cover, trust me. Sit down." Jin says, leading you to the chair next to him. The other boys move around, hiding any alcohol in secret compartments and shelves, turning on the radio and beginning casual banter, the occasional laugh echoing through the room, feeling like just a casual get together between old friends.

After a few minutes the door swings open, two officers being led by Hoseok and Jimin. The scan the room, their eyes landing on you. "Is this her?" One of them says. "Yes, it is. Y/N, this is Officers Brady and Jones. They were given an anonymous tip that I had kidnapped you and that you were in danger." Hoseok explains. "What? Kidnapped? Who the hell would say that?" You ask, completely taken aback. "Do you mind if we ask you a few questions alone, miss?" The other officer asks and you nod. They lead you out of the room, leaving all the other men in the room as they lead you down the hallway alone. You go into the den, sitting on the couch opposite of them.

"Now, miss Y/L/N, we were told that Mr. Jung had taken you from your home and was keeping you here against your will. Is that true?" They ask, taking a notepad out. "No, it's not true! Who would even say that? I packed a bag and left on my own will." You reply, still in shock at the accusation. "And we were told there had been an altercation at your home before you left. Mind explaining what happened?" "Well, I was coming back from work, and I saw my landlord holding Mister J against the wall, practically choking him and preparing to beat him, that is until I showed up. After they saw me Matthew back off and apologized to me and begged me to stay, but I refused to stay." You explain.

"So this man, Matthew..." "Kim. Matthew Kim." You tell them. "Yes, so he's your landlord?" They ask. "Yes, my landlord and a close friend." You reply. "And have you talked to him since you left your home?" They ask. "No, I haven't." You say. "Hm, well alright then, I think we have all we need. Thank you, miss Y/L/N." They sigh, standing up. They shake your hand and exit the room, leaving you alone with the question, who called them?

You walk back into the room, where all the boys look at you expectantly. You sit down in Hoseok's lap, and he holds you close, one hand laying across your lap as the other rubs your back. "What did they say?" He asks softly. "They said someone said you kidnapped me and that I was in danger with you." You say. "Danger? With me? Baby doll I promise you are in no danger." He assures you, and you hear a hum of agreement sound from the other boys. "Even them, since you're with me, they'll protect you too if I'm ever not around. This is the safest place for you to be." He says, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You nod, and he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I know those two, they're both dimwitted, they'll just file the information away and forget it." Jimin says. "Alright, boys, I think that'll be all for now. I'll see you all next week." Hoseok says, causing all of them to nod and file out of the room. You sigh, resting your head on Hoseok's shoulder, closing your eyes and relaxing for a few minutes in silence.

"You know who it was, right?" He says, his voice deep yet soft. You look at him with your brows furrowed. "The 'anonymous tipper'. It's kind of obvious who it was." He says. You think about it for a moment, the realization hitting you. "You think it was BM?" You ask. "Who else would say I kidnapped you and that you were in danger?" He asks rhetorically. You nod in agreement, sighing loudly. "You okay?" He asks, and you nod. "Hey, why don't we go to the theater? Take your mind off of it." He suggests, and chuckles at your smile.

You take your seats, waiting patiently for The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse to start. Hoseok wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. You smiled leaning into him comfortably, relaxing as the movie starts.

You walk out of the theater, hand in hand as he leads you to his car, opening the door for you and driving you both home. When you got there, Hoseok got to the door and stiffened. "Whats-" "Sh." He shushes you, holding his hand up. You see that the door is cracked open. "Stay close." He whispers, pushing the door open. The house is dark, which is unusual even when you two are out.

You follow him slowly into the house, your hand gripping the back of his jacket. He tiptoes over to an accent table, sliding open a drawer, pulling out a pistol. Your eyes widen as he holds the pistol, quietly stepping through the hallways. You approach the parlor, and you see a body laying on the floor. You gasp when you realize its Jameson. You let go of Hoseok, rushing to Jameson's side, turning him on his side. You check his pulse on his neck, and you sigh in relief to feel the beat. He groans, rolling onto his back.

You hear a loud crash come from another room, and Hoseok curses as he rushes towards it. "Jameson! Are you alright? What happened?" You whisper yell. "M-Miss Y-Y/N..." he groans, his eyes falling shut again. You cradle his frail body on your arms, constantly making sure he still has a pulse. You hear rustling from a few rooms away, shouting, and then gunshots. You hear a loud crash, and a shout. "Son of a bitch!" You hear Hoseok shout, almost a growl.

Hoseok storms back into the parlor, hand running through his hair. "Is he okay?" He asks. "Yeah, but we need to get him to his room, he needs to lay down." You reply. "Alright, do you mind staying here with him? I'll go see whose home and get them to help." He says, leaving again.

He comes back with two men with apologetic looks on their faces. They pick Jameson up, carrying him out of the room. Hoseok paces around the room as you stay on the floor. "Who was it?" You ask. "I don't know, it was dark and he was wearing a mask. He got away. Jumped out the window." He explains. "Did he take anything?" "Not that I know of, I have to look around. I don't want you to be alone though, so you're staying by me." He says. You nod, reaching out for him to help you up.

You follow him as he searches through each room, checking cabinets, drawers, and hidden compartments. After searching every room you end up in the bedroom, and he sighs in relief, flopping onto the bed. "Everything's where it should be." He sighs. "That's good. But if they weren't here to steal anything, what were they here for?" You ask. "I don't know, but I'm going to call Jimin to let him know." He says, standing up and walking over to the phone.

You lay down on the bed as he dials Jimin's number, quietly relaying to him what happened. After explaining he hangs up and joins you back on the bed. You curl up next to him, his arm around you and your head on his chest. "I don't think it'll happen again tonight, but I'm going to keep you safe, baby doll, I promise." He whispers, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "I know." You say, snuggling up closer to him.

[bobajeongguk-blog]

el mariachi | bts mafia!au | 1

word count: 3k

warnings: will be smut eventually, may become graphic in future scenes

pairing: jungkook x reader

a/n: this is my first upload on my new blog so i’m sensitive aubrey

code name JOY, a hitman that does the job dirty, is recruited by a notorious mob, who have both respect for her, and a member that she shot two days ago

next

El Mariachi’s.

It lived and breathed as an entrance and exit to a night life of sin. The drinks bad and the people worse, the club radiated a thick vibe of released tension. But what the transgressors of society that inhabited this den didn’t realise is that they weren’t the monsters of the underworld. The bossmen were.

“You know, I happen to be an expert in fucking up faces,” you fired out to the men cuffing your arms with their veiny hands, “it’s sort of my job.”

The men with masks paid no attention, leaving your arms locked up in their own.

The back entrance to El Mariachi’s resembled that of an old Spanish villa’s, which made you chuckle humourlessly at how out of place it looked in a back street of Seoul. Each man on your side stoped dead at the front of it.

“Walk.”

With one of your free arms, you pushed on the heavy door, opening up into a room with wine red walls and mahogany furniture. A large desk, the size of a single bed sat in the middle under dim lit lamps. The edges of the room were impossible to find in the shadows.

“Nice to see you live up to the cliché here,” you smirked at the figure in the dark of the desk.

A seperate figure appeared from the corner of the room, “We keep tradition here. We pride ourselves in it. Let’s quit the small talk though.”

Again, another figured moved out of the shadows, and cocked his gun.  

You weren’t one for being frightened, let alone showing your fear, but the click of the barrel made you gulp. Abruptly, the two men who were on your arms before came back into view and cocked their revolvers in every synchronisation.  

“Some tradition. You’re Koreans owning a Latin themed club, correct me if I’m wrong,” as you retorted in your hard-to-fault cockiness, you glanced around the room undetectably, 5 men counted up. But where were the other two?

“Joy, you made an attempt at killing one of our men, but failed, and you’re happy about this?” The man lent onto his clasped hands on the desk, “Because I don’t know a great deal of hitmen who let the job go- unfinished.”

“What can I say, I’m clearly not very good at my job, nor am I a threat to El Mariachi’s members. So how about we forget my blunder and start over, with me walking out that door-“ you turned towards the door you once entered through but we’re stopped by the two masked men again.

“You’re not serious right? You dishonoured us, and I’m sure we can make some form of arrangement that doesn’t end with your tongue leaving your skull, si?”

You rolled your eyes at his attempt at fear provoking.

“You’re missing a couple men right? Is one on bed rest after what I did to him?”

It was his turn to gulp now, “He’s doing fine. I’m a good enough man to know how to treat the fellas who work for me.”

“Listen,” you shuffled effortlessly towards the desk and sat down in the opposing chair, “Im not here to make enemies with hard working guys such as yourselves. In fact I sort of respect you and you’re skills.”

“Y/n.” You shuddered at the use of your real name, not Joy as you had ironically named yourself, “Who said I want us to be enemies?”

He lent further now, and you finally glanced at his face and took a chance to relish in just how, to put it frankly, fuckable he was. His eyes were heavy lidded and sleepy, yet the pupils were more alive then your heartbeat at this point, and his lips looked far too bowed to be on a man that allowed such profanities to slip by them. His skin looked contradictorily soft and supple, save for the large scar that reached from the arch of his brow to his cheek bone. His lips parted dryly, “So, I was thinking of hiring you.”

“Hiring? Hiring me? Me?” Your eyebrows practically stitched together in confusion.

“We know how you work. We admire your work- hmm- ethic.” You smiled internally at your impressive and non harmful way of making money. What can you say, you loved fucking people around, but not enough to kill.  

“So you’re asking me to become your own personal hitman, except not really since I’m not bona fide?”  

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. You did dirty worse than most hitmen: pay half upfront, mess around with the target enough to freak them out, then never finish the job. You weren’t a killer, you didn’t have it in you, but neither were you a good person. Trouble never really came your way because, how does a criminal get another criminal into trouble?  

Snitching was the worst crime of all in the underworld. But that didn’t stop you from making a lot enemies down below.

“Sort of,” He fishes around his desk draw to look for something, “You have good gun talent, stamina, aim, steady hand. And us hiring you would create a lot of business deals since you’re so feared around here.”

You thought about becoming a part of a team, your entire life had been independent. Solo. Isolated.  

“I will consider joining on one condition.”

The man’s eyes subtly lit up, “Yes, name it,” he kept his voice steady.

“You must introduce me to all members first.”

All men inside the back room led you down a dimly lit corridor, where you could hear the amplified bass on the other side of the wall.  

“Through here. We’ll order a private booth and some drinks in there.”

Each monster, barring the one who had introduced them, still had masks on and hoods up, guns re-pocketed in their holsters as they walked through into the nightclub, El Mariachi’s.

It looked like a generic dance club, low ceilings and elevated dance floors, except at the far end was a stage, and on it was a live band playing and female dancers along the edge. It was distinctly unusual for a dance club, and everyone still moved along. You sort of wished your visit here hadn’t been a business one, just so you’d get an opportunity to go have some fun and wreak havoc.

“Later,” He whispered into your ear as he clasped your forearm and took you along with all the others to a separate curtained booth. The inside was circular and had a small table in the middle, as well as an ashtray and cigarette dispenser. Each wall covered in a mirror from top to the leather booth. You could see yourself in eight different angles. You looked flushed, but hard-faced as always. You could see why a girl as averagely built as yourself mustered up anxiety in even the mightiest of men; you had a nose ring through your right nostril, and a nick taken out of a brow that kept a scar in its place. Your eyes were darkly rimmed with kohl-Black and your lips there usual full and chapped selves.

“Please sit, y/n.”

You scooted along to the back and watched as it filled up enough for the two closest to touch you shoulder to shoulder.

“They can come off now.”

You watched as the rooms collective each reached to detach the elastic from around their ears and lower the masks and hoods.  

“I’m Yoongi by the way,” The man already known to you tells you, “I’m second in command here.”

“You mean you aren’t the boss?” The question resulted in a chuckle from the rest of the members. You were too afraid to look them all in the eye just yet, so made eye contact only with Yoongi.  

“Do you really think a boss is gonna let himself be left so vulnerable?” You looked over to where the voice came from and met eyes with a shit eating grin and crescent shaped eyes, “I go by J-Hope here, I’m a big fan of your gun work.”  

He leans in and places a kiss on your ring decorated knuckle. Your eyes roll upwards, but you smile non the less. His hair is straight and shiney, yet still messy, as if his hands spend a lot of time running through it (or someone else’s do).  

“And I’m Jin, the gang’s prettiest,” one eye is blackened with bruises, and his full lip is busted open and more swollen then they already are with natural plumpness, “And don’t mind J-Hope, he’s a little trigger happy.”

“I gathered that,” You reach to shake his extended hand and notice how muscled his forearm is. A throat clearing broke your contact with Jin as you turned to the next person. Sat to your right was a small but well built member, with a soft smile and soft eyes, completely out of place for his surroundings.  

“I’m Jimin. I drive people places and, well, get shit done.”

You’d done this long enough to know what that meant. A silent nod showed him you understood. He was well stacked enough for you to know that he had definitely got his hands dirty once or twice.  

“Sorry if we hurt you earlier, no hard feelings about the dragging around yeah?”

Rolling your eyes, finally, you turned to your left and were face to face with a man who looked to handsome to have ever needed to make money in such a wrong way. His eyes were intense and his lip had a ring going round into his mouth, his tongue absentmindedly fiddling with it.

“Taehyung. I suppose I’m their trademark robber. I’m pretty handy with a knife too.” Your mind immediately imagined him with a knife clutched in between his teeth, the sight easy to believe.

“Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand like a professional and turned away from one another. But there was one member you hadn’t met. The member you shot yesterday in the parking complex.

“What about um..” you trailed off, not knowing how to bring up the member injured at your hands.

“Jungkook. He’ll be okay. You’ll sort of be taking his place for a week, then consider your debt repaid. After that we’ll pay you for each deed done. Satisfying?”  

“How much per?”

“Two.”

“Hundred?”

“Grand.”

Your mouth made an ‘o’ shake. To the average eye, it seems like a skint amazing for such a high risk line of business, but considering how often deals come up that racks up a few thousand a week. Your mind was already made.

“So,” You sipped your drink innocently, “when do I begin?”

A half hour drive in a stretch Bentley later, you arrive at what is known as HQ. Jimin truthfully told you it’s just where they eat, sleep and train. Never anything illegal happens there. It’s sort of an unspoken rule.

All 5 pairs of eyes were on you in the drive over, watching you, calculating you, figuring you out. Jhope, Jin and Jimin were well mannered and welcoming to you, but Taehyung’s gaze on you was so burning you couldn’t help but stare back. His eyes reflected threat and warning. You squirmed in your seat uncomfortable nude his eye.

The building you arrived in front of was a warehouse style and shape, but a high up window had a dim light glowing from it.  

“So this is home,” Yoongi half heartedly gestured to the structure, “The contract for your membership is in Namjoon’s office, but I doubt you’ll want to go through all of that now. For now, I’ll show you to your room.”

You were taken aback, “I’ll be living here?”

“Yes. We need to be able to have you at hand for jobs whenever. This line of work doesn’t have shifts.”  

You shrugged and nodded it off, but in your mind, you couldn’t be more thrilled.  

Your apartment was a door down from a meth addict, a door up from a teen mother and her badly cared for baby, and directly above was a couple arguing every night.

“If you want,” J-Hope lent across to speak into your ear, “We can swing by your place tomorrow on the way to pick up supplies and grab your belongings.”

You thought about it for a while, “Believe me. There’s nothing there I want to see ever again.”

The line of you led up and into the warehouse, Yoongi flicking the switch. Lights flickered on in strips one by one across the high ceiling. Across the vast space were sectioned off areas of training equipment. A gun guard and target sheets took up a part of the wall, along with a boxing ring and punching bags, weights and gym equipment. At the far back wall there was an open plan kitchen. It was your heaven.

Jin found your taken aback expression amusing, “You like, newbie?”

“Like? This is my fuckin’ dream, dude!”

“Yeah well speaking of dreams, you gotta get rest. Namjoon hates cranky, tired people. Yoongi being his only exception,” Yoongi shrugged over in yours and Jin’s direction, “So I suggest you go to bed. I’ll take you to the empty room.”

You turned to head up the stairs and saw the remaining men already sat at their coffee table, playing a game of poker with scotch glasses.

“Night y/n!” J-Hope yelled towards your retraining body. You simply waved back at the men’s attention.

Jin took you up the dim stairs and you heard muffled voices from behind a closed door, “Don’t mind Jungkook. He has things he’s gotta sort out at the moment.”

You nodded back, Jin stopping at your door.

“Let me know if you want anything. Oh and breakfast is at 7am sharp every day. Training at 8. Don’t be late, Namjoon isn’t afraid of any form of punishment needed.”  

And with that, Jin left.

You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing with thoughts of the boy in the next room to you, and how you inflicted a pretty hefty bullet wound onto his thigh, just missing his kneecap. ‘I could see this not going down too well’ you twisted and turned in you sleep as you imagined his reaction when he finds out you nearly crippled him for life.

Your night’s train of thought was disturbed by your need to pee a few hours later. Opening the door softly, you crept down the corridor to the open door that held the loo.  

When you’d finished, you twisted the knob for the door and opened it and instantly walked straight into another body, your scantily clad skin making direct contact with someone else’s naked torso. Your body stumbles onto him as his falls back out of the doorway into the corridor. Your arm hit the handle on your way down, leaving a nasty cut in its place.

“Fucking hell- that’s twice you’ve injured me,” You freeze instantly from your wincing and look down at the boy underneath yours. His face is covered by a messy flop of fringe, his smile slightly crooked and slightly visible, his eyes his eyes holding as much intensity as Taehyung’s that you had looked into earlier.

“I am so sorry about the-“

“Don’t worry about it. You don’t know me. You were only doing your job, it’s pointless having hard feelings in this job.”

You blushed, a thing you hadn’t done in years, at how foolish and careless you could have been. It wasn’t like you to let your guard down and in a few short hours you had allowed yourself to team up and trust strangers.  

His face contorted into a frown as he looked down at the gash you hadn’t noticed yet, “You’re bleeding.”

“It’ll be fine, I’ve had worse,” you glanced at it nonchalantly.

“Let me help.”

You rolled off of him and jumped back up, allowing him to stretch his body up. You watched his muscles contract with each minor movement, admiring how his physique clearly showed his hard work and dedication. He was broad, overwhelmingly broad, and his back muscles were pronounced. As he bent his legs to get up, his thighs tensed and you could see the thews shift.  

His brawny arms reached up to a shelf with a box reading “first aid” on it.  

“You don’t need to do that,” you insisted, suddenly feeling sheepish.

“Namjoon will be pissed if he finds out a new recruit is already injured, much less at the hands of me,” he outstretched his hand to your arm. With delicate surprise, his calloused fingers padded lightly on your own scarred skin.

“I still have yet to meet this Namjoon. What’s he like?”  

“Not as scary as he likes to think. However you can’t outweigh his intelligence. People treat people like him as ‘nerds’, but it’s an underestimated skill,” He takes his time wiping the stray blood, “I’m Jungkook by the way. I’m a bit of a baby in comparison to everyone else.”

“My name’s Jo- Y/n, my name is Y/n.”

“You have impeccable aim and precision, but you didn’t hit me anywhere critical. Why?”

“I don’t kill. Simple.”

“You won’t be saying that for long around here.”

You gulped with dread for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He pulled the lid off a bottle with his teeth, “This is gonna sting a little.”

You chuckled at his concern, “I think I can handle it.”

The liquid stung but nowhere near as bad as any pain you’d already felt.  

“So who did you work for before us?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Don’t worry we won’t-“

“It’s a hitman rule. You never tell people who hired you, and they’ll pay half up front.”

“Yes but don’t forget you broke the hitmen rules by never actually killing,” He smirked at you. His smile was contagious enough to pass onto your lips.

“I didn’t work for anyone. I worked for myself. Namjoon isn’t buying me out of anyone, he’s hiring me.”

Jungkook’s face turned into one of surprise, he stopped wrapping bandage around your arm to look at you. His eyes showed signs of confusion and unrecognisable emotion.

“You’re telling me that you, a girl that reaches my nose in height, is a solo gunner?”

You grinned back at him and walked towards the door, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Sleep came a lot better the second time round.

next

[lalast0ne]

The bad penny

Layla

*Sin City was definitely living up to its name. Our first night in Vegas had been one I’d never forget .. what I could remember of it. After leaving the “Art Gallery” which I’ve decided was not a legit gallery at all, we hit the shops then made our way back to the hotel room to get ready. With the key safely deposited in the safe, we headed out for dinner. Tao was amazing, the service, the atmosphere and the food. After dinner we paid well over the odds for a 5 minute ride in a gondola thru the Venetian then made our way to the hotel casino. Judging by the pounding of my head this morning we were in the casino a looooong time.  The last thing I properly remember is Wilder tugging me to the high roller section .. after that it becomes hazy. I look towards the bathroom where the sound of the shower running and singing can be heard which makes me smile as I collapse back into the pillows groaning. The fact he’s in a seemingly good mood must mean he beat the house. Thank God. I look around the enormous room, my eyes landing on the safe. The safe that houses the most expensive key known to man and a flurry of questions rush thru my mind. We didn’t discuss it last night, I refused to taint our first night with talk of business (which is exactly what that was) and Wilder wasn’t forthcoming with the information, so I still remained clueless. I just couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing ...*

Wilder

*Vegas was growing on me. I had won big last night. At the tables and with my wife. I knew her mind was working in over drive but sometimes it was best to leave her guessing. All would be revealed in time. I towel dry, got dressed and stepped from the bathroom to find her lazy ass still in bed* Little Ball of Fire, time to get ready for the day. We have Vegas shit to do. I know you have things you would like to see that I ruined yesterday. *Smirking, I check the time.* You have 15 minutes or the party bus is leaving without you. No aquarium though. That’s not Vegas. *I pour a cup of coffee and wait as you scramble from the bed.* Make that 14 minutes.

Layla

*I see the way you look at me and know exactly what you’re waiting for my body isn’t ready to move at a fast pace yet .. I don’t even think it’s ready to move. I roll from the bed, my shoulders dropped slightly and my walk slow as I head to the bathroom* You’re so mean to me .. always putting me on a timer. How are you not feeling like shit this morning? I’m sure you drank just as much as, if not more than, me. *I step into the shower and wince as the water hits me, the cold feels like a thousand needles pricking my skin until it warms up and I relax a little. Even with no intention of rushing, I shower as quickly as possible then emerge feeling a little fresher.* I swear I’m never drinking again .. *I mumble as I pass by your to the closet and roll my eyes when you tap the face of your watch. I don’t waste anytime messing around. I slip into comfortable clothes and a pair of sneakers, tying my still wet hair back out of my face and stand in front of you and shudder as I say what I’m thinking.* Please don’t tell me today’s the day we’re going up the Stratosphere...

Wilder

*I finish the last of my coffee and eye you up and down.* Is that what you are wearing today? You should have switched to ginger ale after the first drink like I did. *I avoid the death glare you are giving me and hold the door open.* Was the Stratosphere not on your list? I’m catering to all things Layla today so smile Little Ball of Fire. You don’t always get me so accommodating so I recommend you take advantage.

Layla

*My eyes narrow at your treachery. If I’d known you’d switched to ginger ale I’d have made my cocktails virgin. I cover my mouth at the thought* What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? *I look down at my t-shirt, shorts and sneakers then back to you* Comfort is the aim of the game today, husband. And while the Stratosphere is on my list, I don’t think the people on the rides, or the good people of Vegas standing below, want to see the contents of my stomach. *I move to where you sit and position myself between your legs, my fingers teasing thru your hair* We can make our way to old Vegas this morning. Go to Fremont Street and check out the Mob museum?

Wilder

I don’t care to see a jail cell if you throw up on people and we need to fight. *I laugh and lift you up, taking long strides to leave our room.* First lets get some food in you to soak up all the alcohol and then find some mobs. Maybe if you are lucky, we can buy that thing you could not stop staring at last night. *The elevator takes us down and I keep a tight grip on your hand.* Don’t take any of those cards people try to hand you. We are not hitting up those places here.

Layla

*I wrap my legs around your waist and bury my face in your neck, humming softly as you walk us to the elevator. My feet hit the floor when the doors open and I pout at the loss of contact until your hand is on my hip and your pulling me close* I don’t think they’re for places to go .. I think they’re for girls *Chuckles* to come to your room .. so don’t you be taking any of those cards Mr *I reach down and pinch your cheek, laughing softly as the doors open* I hear Serendipity do the most amazing pancakes .. let’s head there .. because now I honestly feel like I could eat a horse.

Wilder

I think they cater to all baby girl. No discrimination. *I growl against your ear and head in the direction of pancakes, my hand firmly gripping your ass. Vegas might be growing on me but I will never understand the lengths one city goes through to steal your money and make you lose your entire life. I can do that in a heartbeat back home and feel no guilt. You will be as rich going in the ground as you were above. Life really is simple.* We should take in that volcano show tonight. Feel the heat from that fire. *Smirks as we stop at the restaurant and wait to be seated.*

Layla

If you want heat .. I can got you hot under the collar, baby *I smirk across to you as we stand and wait (im)patiently to be seated. I grab my stomach as it grumbles and thank the Lord, 10 minutes later, when we’re finally shown to a table for two on the terrace. Before the waitress can even ask if we know what we like, we’re reeling off our order and handing back the menus she’s just given us. I cross my arms and lean forward slightly, grinning at you as I admire the sight of Caesar’s Palace behind you* So what are your thoughts of Vegas so far, husband? Are you enjoying it?

Wilder

*My eyes cut in every direction since our chairs are out in the open on the terrace and I can’t see who is approaching from behind, landing back on yours. I reach up and flick your nose playfully.* It’s loud, dirty, has this smell you can’t wash off, everything is way too big. I think I would need need to see the seedy side before I can give you my honest opinion. It might be ok. *I lean back as the waitress brings our drinks, nodding my hand in thanks.* What is your opinion of all this sin?

Layla

*I laugh when you give me your opinion, not at all surprised, then smile at the waitress when she places our drinks on the table. I load my coffee wit way too much sugar and take a satisfying sip, smiling with I feel the caffeine taking immediate effect* This world of sin ... I love it. I couldn’t live here but for a trip, I’d happily return a couple of times a year. Whether Vegas would let us return .. well that remains to be seen *i smirk at you over the top of my cup*

Wilder

*My head falls back, booming laughter filling the terrace.* Mrs. Steele, I don’t know why you assume I will get us kicked out this city or even state. I have been on my best behavior. *I lower my voice.* I have not felt the need to pull my knife even once. I would say that is a record but the day is still young. I make no promises.

Layla

*I laugh and shake my head at your declaration* we’ve not been here 48 hours yet, there’s plenty of time for us to get thrown out. *I lean in and whisper back to you* Please try to keep your knife in your boot *I sit back when the waitress approaches with our food and thank her as she places the hugest plate of pancakes down in front of me, then look back to you* for a little longer, at least.

Wilder

You have my promise Fire. No knife will come out of my boot while we are here. *Stabs a huge bite of pancakes and shoves it in my mouth, not promising about the knife in the back of my pants.* I’m being accommodating remember. *My eye catches a profile that seems familiar as I continue to eat.*

Layla

So accommodating that you’ll even agree to come to the aquarium *I smirk taking a mouthful of pancake, nodding my head* Such a good husband. *My smile falters when I lose you for a moment, your eyes widening slightly when you clearly see something. I turn my head in the same direction and search the crowd to see what you’ve spotted and then I do.* What the hell ...  *My head spins back and my mouth goes dry, the pancake suddenly feeling like I’m chewing cardboard* Is that ..?

Wilder

Carlos. All the way out here. *My fork drops to my plate and I push back from my chair. I stand to my full height and make my way across to the terrace and his table. He gives me his eat shit grin as I stare him down. My jaw clenched and I crack my knuckles to form a fist.* You are always one step behind Carlos. I already have what you are looking for. You can scurry back into your hole with your tail between your legs.

Layla

*I follow behind you and grab your hand, aware of eyes on us and not just Carlos’s* Wilder ... maybe we should take this somewhere a little less ..

“Well, what a pleasant surprise this is” He waves his hand away dismissively as I try to pull you away “Now now Mrs. Steele, there’s no need for that. We’re all friends here, Won’t you both join me? We can discuss ... business.” He smirks as he sips his coffee.

*I scowl, and it’s not a playful one, at the man who has just ruined this entire trip.* No, thank you. We have our own table that we should be getting back to. *I tug on your hand again a little more forcefully*  Wilder ..

Wilder

You are a fucking asshole. *My words not loud enough for anyone else to hear.* I’ve played nice but not anymore. I will run you from this town and mine. *I take Layla’s hand and we head back to our table, sitting down. I slice through my pancake like I would the skin on his body and shovel another bite in my mouth. Trying to ignore the annoyance of his appearance.* Let’s forget about him Layla.

Layla

*i don’t look back when you take my hand and pull me away. Your words make me smile though when I take my seat and watch you* I don’t think I’m the one who needs to forget about him *I sit forward and lower my voice* but why the he’ll is he here? Now? The same time we’re here. That’s not a coincidence is it. *Its not a question, it’s a statement.*

Wilder

It’s Carlos. He is a thorn in my side. *I snag a piece of bacon from your plate, a smirk growing across my face.* Plus I got what he came here for. The key.....

[silly-nonny-fics-are-for-fandoms]

Memories, Chapter 1: For the one who wants nothing.

So, this is my fic for the MagiBB! Or, at least, chapter one. There’s three chapters of it and they will be posted as close to one another as I can get them.  Without further adieu, enjoy!

“Hey, Vittel?” Sinbad asked, sitting down at the table where the ex-assassin sat. The teenager had been curious about something for a while, and when he was curious, he got answers at any cost. Though, this one should be easy.

“Yeah, Sinbad?” Responded Vittel, putting down the pen he was using to write on the accounting bills.

“How old is Ja’far? I mean, I know he’s still a kid, kind of, I mean who can still be a kid after all the shit he’s been through, but what’s his age?”

“You’ve known him for nearly three years, and you never asked?”

“No, I haven’t. I didn’t want him getting upset with me thinking he’s cute especially because of his age.”

“Well, as of the day after tomorrow, he’ll be thirteen.”

Sinbad shot up from where he sat, the chair clattering to the ground, and his mouth fell open.

“He’ll be thirteen?! That means he was, like, ten when I met him!”

“Mhm. Ja’far was the youngest chief Sham Lash ever had, and one of the best.”

Sinbad paused, thinking to himself for a little bit. If Ja’far’s birthday was in two days, then they needed to celebrate. However, his thoughts were interrupted by the accountant.

“Don’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“Throw a party or something. It’ll just irritate him.”

“No way; He’s becoming a teenager! That’s the first step towards adulthood!”

“It’s not exactly a happy occasion Sinbad. Remember what Sham Lash has kids do at five? Yeah, that happened on his birthday. Don’t push it.”

“Then I’ll just have to make happier memories to help him forget about that. He’s been pretty miserable lately, and more irritable. So, Vittel, what does Ja’far like?”

There was a pause, a sigh, and Vittel began to talk.

“He likes you.”

“I know that, but I mean gifts.”

“Well… He has a bit of a sweet tooth if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But I wanna get him something more than sweets… Plus, Rurumu will kill me if I give him too much.”

“You know him better than I do here, man.”

“C’mon, help me out here.” Sinbad pleaded, looking down on his luck.

“Sorry, but I don’t think he wants anything. Just give him a good day to remember.” Vittel shrugged as he spoke, turning back to the papers, and returning to work, “Why don’t you ask Mahad? Or Rurumu? I know she’s got something for him already, and Mahad is in charge of our gift to him.”

“What about Mystras? And why are you guys giving him stuff if it’s not a happy occasion?”

“One, I don’t think he even knows Ja’far has a birthday. Two, he doesn’t take care of himself, much less get the stuff he needs to keep from getting extremely sunburnt, so we usually do that for him.”

“Fair enough…. Wait. That means the rest of them had known before I did!” Sinbad stood, the childish pout on his face evident.

“Yes, because Mahad and I watched Ja’far grow up, and Rurumu asked.”

“Fine. I’ll just have to find something for him myself!”

The younger Parthevian rushed out of the room to try and think of something for Ja’far. After all, he did so much for the company, the least he deserves is an excellent birthday present.

And, inevitably, he ran into Mystras in his rush.

“Woah, Sinbad, what’s the hurry? Someone die?” Asked the knight, staring curiously at his master.

“It’s almost Ja’far’s birthday! Mystras, we gotta do something huge for him!” Sinbad panted out, grinning like a child. This, in and of itself, was a brand-new adventure for him. The adventure of figuring out how to make Ja’far happy on his birthday without pissing him off.

“Ja’far has a birthday?”

“Yes, Ja’far has a birthday.”

And as such, the panic and rushing to think of something began.

Ja’far knew something was off as soon as Sinbad stopped pestering him about taking a vacation to Balbadd to see King Rashid. Or, when he stopped bothering him about letting him go out drinking. Or bringing Masrur to the red-light district. And when he stopped going to the red-light district.

Then again, maybe Sinbad was finally maturing.

Nope. Impossible.

But things had been weird since yesterday; Everyone, no matter who he asked, was always busy. Busier than normal.

“We haven’t had an increase in business… So why is everyone so busy?” He asked himself, looking downward and huffing to himself. He hated being out of the loop.

His shoes clicked on the stone floor, a soft rhythm of his footsteps of which he soon lost himself. He couldn’t quite think right; his mind was too confused because of Sinbad not doing what he had always done; Whatever he wanted.

While lost in thought, he bumped into the very person for whom he was searching.

“Sin! There you—“

“Oh, hey Ja’far. I don’t have time to talk right now, sorry. Why don’t you go play with Kikiriku?”

Ja’far didn’t even get a chance to respond before Sinbad ran off with a wave and a “Bye! Talk to you at dinner, okay? Love ya, Ja’far! Gotta go!”

Well. That was strange. The last time Ja’far had seen Sinbad too busy to talk was right after the Maader incident when they had to fix everything and get Sinbad back into the swing of things around there. But even then, the dungeon capturer rarely turned down an opportunity to slack off.

So, he decided to follow his master to find out what was going on.

Except, before he could, Rurumu appeared behind him.

“Ja’far?” She spoke, voice gentle as ever.

“Yes?” Ja’far responded, turning to face the giant woman. She looked troubled, her umber eyes half closed.

“I need you to watch your siblings today. I’m sorry, I know you’re busy, but Hinahoho and I are both unable to look after them for the rest of the day because we need to check the quality of the incoming goods from Imuchak.”

“Can Pipirika do it?” Asked the child, putting his weight on his right and placed a hand on his hip.

“No, she’s covering for Mystras and Vittel.”

“Why aren’t they doing their jobs?” He started tapping his foot, irritated. Mystras was almost as bad as Sinbad when it came to slacking off, and Vittel had a perpetually annoying ability to mess things up.

“Lord Sinbad has requested their presence throughout the day.”

A deep-seated anger rose from within Ja’far, an annoyance he felt all too often though was prone to more during the heat.

His left eye twitched as he spoke his next words through gritted teeth.

“What?”

“I don’t understand it myself, but I must go, Hinahoho is waiting for me. The children are currently down for a nap, and when they wake up, they’ll likely be hungry. I love you Ja’far, thank you for watching them.” Said the mother, kneeling down and kissed her son on the forehead before walking off gracefully.

The child huffed, face tinted pink as the anger ebbed away.

Something was up, and he needed to find out what, but that could wait until after the children had been taken care of.

Sinbad, Vittel, Mahad, and Mystras didn’t attend dinner that night.

So it was only the Imuchakk family, the children they rescued from Maader, and Parsine. And that made it awkward without the icebreaker that is their master. Which, in turn, angered Ja’far significantly.

He stomped out of the living quarters, determined to find Sinbad if it killed him.

Though, he didn’t have to go far. Because in the middle of the shop—Which had closed about an hour ago, and otherwise abandoned until morning—stood Sinbad and the others which were absent from dinner.

“Is everything ready for tomorrow?” Sinbad asked, and Ja’far noticed that the man’s hair was messed up more so than usual, as is he’d been working extra hard today.

“Yeah Sinbad, everything’s ready. Now all that’s left is getting—“ Mystras was cut off by Vittel covering the knight’s mouth, and pointing towards where the little pre-teen stood.

They all turned towards him with different expressions. Mystras looked almost as if he were caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Vittel seemed worried, Mahad was the same as ever, but Sinbad… Sinbad looked almost squeamish, but with that underlying confidence, he always had.

“Oh, hey Ja’far. What’re you doing here? I told you I’d meet you at dinner.” Said the teenager, walking over to his friend.

“Dinner just ended, dumbass.” Huffed Ja’far, deadpan.

“It did? Man, I’m sorry. I’ll talk with you when you go to bed, okay?” Sinbad smiled, a bit awkwardly, chuckling.

Ja’far was silent.

“Are you that mad at me?”

No response.

“C’mon, Ja’far. I didn’t mean to miss dinner.”

The boy turned around and still gave no response while he exited, but before he left, he stopped.

“Sin, I’m not upset that you missed dinner; I'm angry that you won’t tell me why… I thought you trusted me…” And with that, he ran off to his room.

The silence left behind was louder than any amount of yelling.

A hand was placed on the dungeon capturer’s shoulder, and Mystras’s voice filled the empty room.

“He’ll come around, he always does. He’ll be upset, but you’ll be forgiven by morning.”

“I hope so, Mystras. It’d suck if he were too mad to enjoy his birthday tomorrow.”

Sin did end up coming by Ja’far’s room that night, but by then, the boy had long since fallen asleep.

So the elder of the two walked over to the bed, listening to Ja’far’s soft breathing, and kneeled down next to his bed.

“I’m sorry, Ja’far… I hope you’ll forgive me; I’m doing this for you, after all.” He leaned over and kissed the boy’s forehead, a small smile on his face. “Now, sleep well, and sweet dreams.” He whispered, pulling back. Taking a note out of his pocket, he left it on the nightstand, then left the room as silently as he could.

And, of course, Ja’far had been awake since he heard Sin walking towards the door to enter.

Sitting up, he began mumbling to himself.

“For me? What could he poss—“ He cut himself off, covering his mouth. No. No way. It couldn’t be… But, then again, Vittel and Rurumu had been ‘celebrating’ it for the last two years….

That doesn’t mean Sinbad should know about his birthday, though. After all, it wasn’t a day he was proud of. Sham lash twisted it, turned it into the mark of his first kill, and certainly not one he wanted to remember.

‘I’m different now… I’m not the same…’ He thought, the mental image of his parents lying dead on the ground flashing in his mind. The image twisted into Rurumu, her children, Vittel and Mahad, and everyone he had grown to care for in their place.

And then his mind changed them all into him. Into Sinbad. The man who rescued him, the one who would become king, the one who cared for him and wasted his time with a brat like him lying there bloodied and gasping for air, and those gold eyes once full of warmth fading into dull, emotionless death.

Tears welled in Ja’far’s eyes, which turned into crying, and then into uncontrollable, quiet sobbing.

When the white-haired ex-assassin awoke, he noticed the note on his nightstand.

“Hey, Ja’far! Happy birthday!

For your birthday, I’m sending you on a little trip. Figure out the clues left for you, go to that location, and collect the next clue as well as your gift. Oh, and before you leave, there should be food on that box at the foot of your bed.

Alright then! First location.

When we left Imuchakk, where did we go?”

Where did they go? They went to Reim. But, they were already in Reim, so it wouldn’t make sense for that to be the answer. Ja’far pondered for a minute, getting the food which indeed was at the foot of his bed, and attempted to come up with an answer.

‘We collected our things and left, and the next place we went was Reim, so what does he mean? We stopped once on the way to resupply the boat…’ He thought, munching on the cinnamon sugared treat he’d been left when it hit him.

The boat.

They didn’t just teleport to Reim, they went onto the ship and sailed there.  

So Ja’far got up, got dressed, and headed out to the docks, looking for the Imuchakk boat they traveled on. Oddly enough, it seemed as if the living quarters were deserted; Not even the sound of his baby sisters was giggling ringing through the halls.

“Don’t worry about it, Ja’far. Just find Sinbad, and explain to him that today is not a good day, especially after the shi—Stunt he pulled yesterday.” He mumbled to himself, automatically stopping himself from swearing and flinching as if he were expecting a Rurumu chop. Which, of course, he was, but the now thirteen-year-old wouldn’t tell anyone that.

The heat of Reim was excruciating today. For the hottest season just ending, you’d expect it to be warm, but not so warm and intense that your skin would burn just by standing outside for a few minutes. However, such was the case when you have rotten luck.

And by the time he arrived at the boat, he could feel his skin crawling and turning red from the heat.

The ship was large, dark mahogany, with big sails patterned with the Imuchakk tribe symbols, but it was evident the boat hadn’t been used for some time. Barnacles and sea sludge coated the bottom, the sails frayed and ropes worn through, and Ja’far felt a bit remiss at the sight of it. True, they had a fleet of merchant ships, but this was where their journey truly began and what carried them to new countries.

The ex-assassin spotted something odd once he’d boarded, the wood creaking under his feet. Up by the crow’s nest, embedded into the mast, was a bag with a scroll attached.

‘I’ll assume for now that’s for me… How’d he even get it up there? Scratch that, I don’t want to know.’

So, he released his darts, threw them up there and watched as they wrapped around the mast, and jumped, the boat swaying under the force of it. The wind felt nice against his skin, and the relief from the heat was welcome if only for a moment before he landed safely in the crow’s nest, grabbing the bag and the scroll.

However, he stopped when it was in his hands. Right in front of him was the ocean, large and bluer than he remembered it to be. He hadn’t noticed it before, but with the soft rocking of the boat and the scent of the sea, he had begun to miss their traveling. Chasing after Sinbad, Rurumu’s lessons, turning a foul-mouthed brat into a respectable teenager, the birth of his little brother, Sinbad’s laughter and smile both of which had been vanishing more and more as of late, big dinners, storming seas…. He missed it all.

Now, everyone was so busy, they barely spent time together outside of travels, and Ja’far hadn’t even noticed it.

His chest felt tight as he opened the bag, seeing little stones inside and a small piece of paper.

“Hey, Ja’far, happy birthday!

Okay, so I didn’t know today was your birthday, so your gift was rushed, but hey, isn’t it the thought that counts? Do they say that here? Well, even if they don’t, I think you get what I mean.

So, there are some sharpening and polishing stones in here for you, for your weapons specifically, they won’t do anything if you try to use them on yourself.

Anyway, have a great birthday! See you later!

-Mystras.”

That red-haired idiot. Ja’far chuckled a bit, opening the scroll left outside of the bag.

“You figured it out! Good job Ja’far!

Okay, clue two: While you guys were away getting supplies, I was busy getting the funds to found Sindria Trading company. However, even after getting the funds and founding it, I still did those plays. Where did I perform?

P.S. Keep the bag, you’ll need it.”

Ja’far stood corrected, Sinbad was more of an idiot than Mystras.

Sin did plays at the Colosseum. Everyone knew that.

And with that thought, Ja’far climbed down from the crow’s nest and started to leave. But, before he got very far, he rushed back, touched the bow and whispered two words.

“Thank you…”

Then, on hurried feet, he ran off towards the Colosseum, only to be faced with a small problem.

The sun had risen about an hour ago, and now the markets were in full swing, with people bustling about. Why was this a problem? Simple, the freckled teen stood out like a sore thumb, and people knew who he was now because of Sinbad.

To the roofs it is, he decided and continued on his way.

Except, he missed one vital thing; A shock of violet hair near the jewelers.

Now, Ja’far was used to exerting himself, but he hadn’t expected to be short of breath after a run like that. Then again, he was used to running in the cool shadows, not the heat. He wasn’t used to sweat soaked clothes, and even if he lacked a scent at all times, it didn’t mean he was comfortable.

But seeing the Colosseum from the rooftops sure was a sight. Ja’far remembered when Sinbad fought Masrur in a similar arena to this one on Maader’s island, and how he’d been helpless to do anything. And as he walked into the arena, empty and lifeless, he could almost picture the play Sin had put on.

One man, one stage, two metal vessels, and one incredible journey to tell the world.

And where Sin would stand, on that stage, was placed another bag, and another scroll.

His feet clacked against the marble, and he opened the bag on the ground, choosing to stand as he did.

Inside, were two identical leather sheathes attached to a band which could clip and unclip around his arm.

“Happy birthday Ja’far! Mahad and I were having a hard time thinking about what to do for your birthday, and Masrur was talking about how he’s afraid to hug you because your knives might cut him, so we all pitched in and got some sheaths for them!

Vittel, Mahad, and MASUN”

Ja’far chuckled at the signing, as Masrur was still learning to write his name, and smiled as he attached the sheathes to his arms and slid his knives into them. It fit perfectly. The weight, while unfamiliar where it was, felt… comforting. Like a warmth spread from them and encompassed his entire body.

Though, that didn’t exactly help with the Reim sun.

“It’s late, so formalities are over from here on out. Where did you guys first meet King Rashid?”

Well, now Sinbad was merely getting lazy. They met him at the Trading company building, even if they never truly met him there, and didn’t know he was the king… And if that weren't the answer, the only other option would be in Balbadd.

So, packing things up, he left the Colosseum and set off for the company building.

At least, that was the plan. Until he saw a dark violet ponytail swish behind a building, and his household vessel glowed with proximity to its master.

Sinbad.

“Ah—Sin!!” Ja’far yelled and ran up to try and see where his master was going. However, when he arrived, Sinbad had turned another corner. And so, he followed. At the end of the turn, the dungeon capturer glanced back at his companion, grinned, and ran.

“Huh?” Ja’far mumbled to himself, giving chase to the older teen. Sinbad was fast but not as fast as Ja’far. The only reason he couldn’t catch him, he told himself, was because Sinbad knew the streets better and was good at being shifty.

“Shit... At this rate, he might actually catch me.” Mumbled Sinbad, trying to get away from the small boy. He ran through the market, jumping over carts that Ja’far slid under, and calling for people to move out of the way for their safety. However, instead of taking this as a threat, the people of Reim seemed to believe this was a form of entertainment.

Making a sharp turn towards his company, Sinbad cursed as the people began to cheer; some for Ja’far to catch him, others for Sinbad to get away.

‘Alright, time to take a page from Ja’far’s book…’ He thought to himself and jumped onto the ledge of the building before Ja’far could see him, lost his grip on Baal’s sword, and tumbled into the establishment. There were screams somewhere, but the only thing he could focus on was the angry glares of women clad in dancer's garb.

With an audible swallow and a small prayer to whatever god was listening, he realized where he had lead Ja’far.

The red light district.

Through the streets, the architecture, and the markets Ja’far chased Sin, only stopping when he lost sight of the man, and Ja’far couldn’t remember how he’d never seen this area of town before. It seemed to be on the higher end, yes, but even in broad daylight, he saw how beautiful it was. Reim, as a country, was known for elegance, and he had taken that for granted and forgot to take it in. However, he glanced around, saw a brothel, and walked away.

Of course, Sinbad would lead him there. Once a pervert, always a pervert.

He turned around and walked back to the trading company building, face bright red with something other than the heat.

The breeze had stirred up while he walked, and it cooled him slightly. Today was exciting, so far. An excellent turn of events in comparison to his previous birthdays.

At least the building had magical tools that cooled it down, Ja’far thought to himself when he entered. They were supposed to be closed for the day, so he was surprised to find that the main door was unlocked. And, if the teen was honest, the feeling of moving from the sun into the shade was one of the best feelings he’d experienced.  

When the door closed with a slam, it took a minute for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, he could walk around in the darkness without problems. And, right there in the middle of the room, on top of a table, was the bag which he had been searching for. His steps echoed in the large room, having no other noises to block it out.

‘When I first met Sin, I’d have barely made any noise here…’ He thought to himself, picking up the bag and opening it. Inside, there was two more notes and some creams for his skin. The pale boy took the creams out of the smaller bag and out down the larger bag he had been carrying, and opened the smaller of the two notes.

“Greetings Ja’far, I hope this message finds you in good health. I have noticed the Reim sun has been causing damage to your skin, and so I asked my queen for something so that your pretty skin might stay as pretty and undamaged as it is now. When Lord Sinbad introduced me to the idea that your birthday had been coming, I decided I would give you these creams as a birthday gift, and wish you all the best on this special day. May Artemyra continue to trade with this company, and may you reach your goal of becoming Lord Sinbad’s right-hand man.

Parsine Pratemyra.”

The formal tone of the Artemyran woman was reminiscent of how Ja’far himself wrote, and it was a comfort in some odd way. He applied some the cream to the skin which had been exposed to the sun, it’s cool and smooth texture calming irritated skin, even if it stung a bit.

‘This actually works well…’ Ja’far thought, emerald eyes shutting as he sighed, the darkness around him comforting and cooling. He had been born into shadows, and it was only natural that he was more comfortable in the cold blackness than the warm sun. But, he loved being outside as well.

Because Sinbad shone as brightly as that sun, with eyes as deep as the sea when it glittered gold in the sunrise, and as long as that man was out in the sunlight, Ja’far would be there right beside him.

He sat there and thought to himself a while longer before venturing back into the sunlight. Ja’far looked at the other slip of paper he had, reading it over as he walked to the door.

“Memories are funny, aren’t they? Even if they hurt us, or make us want to forget them, they’re still there. Sometimes, even if they remind us of our negligence towards our siblings.”

Ja’far didn’t finish reading it, crumpling it in his hand angrily. He exited the building, making a note to remind Sinbad to lock it later, and going to the forest with a huff. Sinbad knew that he regretted it, even if he did activate his household vessel, and he would for the rest of his life.

With any luck, this day would end soon, and he would be able to ask Sinbad never to do this again and forget about it so they can both move on with his life. He didn’t want to remember it, he didn’t need these presents, even if the ointment was extremely appreciated, and he didn’t want to give Sinbad another reason to skip work.

But… The sentiment had been nice, he thought to himself as the stone roads turned to dirt, and maybe it wasn’t so bad…

He glanced up from the ground he had been staring at and saw Vittel and Mahad waiting for him at the entryway to the forest.

“What are you guys doing here?” Ja’far asked, looking up at the two large men.

“We’re here to give you your next location, and your gift! Happy birthday, Ja’far!” Said Vittel with a smile, handing Ja’far a very light bag.

“I already got the gift from you guys, though…”

“Oh, this is from your family. Don’t open it now, wait until you see them to open it, okay?”

Ja’far complied and put the smaller bag inside of the larger, and looked up at the two ex-assassins expectantly.

“Ahem, here’s your clue. All roads lead to home.” Said Vittel, putting his arms behind his back and speaking dramatically.

“All roads lead to home? But… My home is with Sin.”

“Exactly,” Vittel ruffled his hair affectionately, “So, where is Sinbad likely to be right now? Remember, it’s just past midday.”

“He’s probably in the living building since it’s around lunch time…”

“Then why are you still here? We’ll catch up with you, okay? Go on, go home.”

Ja’far nodded and waved goodbye to the older two, running back towards where he had started his day.

“Hey, Mahad?” Asked Vittel, once Ja’far was out of earshot.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think Ja’far has realized it yet? He still seems confused about why Sinbad did this.”

“Dunno…”

“Ah, whatever, it doesn’t matter. C’mon, we gotta go. Can’t be late for the party, now can we?”

Vittel laughed, and Mahad made an odd sort of noise as they followed Ja’far.

‘Almost there, almost there…’ Ja’far thought to himself, rounding a corner and coming face to face with the living quarters building. If you didn’t know the difference, it almost looked like a hotel without a sign. Just as magnificent, yet somewhat dull to difference it from the buildings around.

The ex-assassin walked up to the door, took a deep breath, hoped he wouldn’t regret what he was about to see.

And he opened the large double doors, to darkness. Stepping in carefully, he closed the door behind him as he glanced around. Listening, there was heavy breathing from at least five—No, seven, three adults, two children, two teenagers.

Suddenly, there was a blue glow amongst the darkness, and from that blue light, small bolts of blue lightning shot out and lit the torches, illuminating the room. There were tables with food covering them, little notes and cakes. And in the middle of it, there stood Sinbad in all his magnificence, Baal’s sword held high above his head with sparks encasing it. Next to him was Rurumu and Hinahoho, little Kikiriku standing next to Masrur, then Parsine and Mystras.

“Happy birthday Ja’far!” They cheered.

Ja’far’s face flushed, bright red hiding his freckles.

“Thank you…” He murmured, looking down at the floor. How much trouble did they go through for him?

“Did you enjoy your trip down memory lane, Ja’far?” Asked Sinbad, waving the smaller boy over to take the seat next to his. Ja’far walked over, sat down and placed the bag down next to him as the others took their seats.

“It would have been better if I didn’t have to chase you through the streets only to end up in the red-light district, Sin.” Ja’far huffed, to which there were chuckles from around him.

“Sorry about that; I was picking up your gift, and I couldn’t let you catch me,” Sinbad said with a mirthful grin.

“That reminds me… Rurumu, Hinahoho, why did you want me to open your gift to me here?”

“We wanted to see your face, Ja’far.” Responded Rurumu, looking gently down at the boy.

Ja’far pulled the small bag out of his bag and set it on the table. Gently undoing the ties, he pulled out a box. Little, Maplewood likely, and it was extremely light. Everyone stared at him as he opened the box, and tears began to brim his eyes and made choked noises.

An Imuchakk headband. A mark of family, of unity, and love.

“I-I can’t accept this… Rurumu, Hinahoho, I—“

“Ja’far, you are as much our family as Kikiriku, Pipikuni, and Totoyura are.” Said Hinahoho, smiling widely.

“But—I scarred you…”

“So? I’m sure I’ll get more, traveling with Sinbad.”

“Hey!” Sinbad interjected but was ignored.

“Are you sure you want me to have this…?”

Hinahoho and Rurumu both nodded, and Ja’far was having a harder time keeping himself from crying.

“Thank you…”

“Alright, time for my gift, Ja’far!” Said Sinbad, smiling, “Close your eyes, okay?”

Ja’far sniffled a bit, wiped the tears that were threatening to fall, and closed his eyes.

A cold weight was put on his head, and it started slipping down over his face. There were chuckles from all around him, and a hand moved it back on top of his head, only for it to slide down.

“Sinbad, it’s too big!” Laughed Mystras, and Sin cursed.

“Ahh, you’re right! Sorry, I had to guess the size, and I do want it to fit you when you’re a little bigger…”

“Sin, can I open my eyes now?” Asked Ja’far, curious to see what exactly they were talking about.

“Sure, but it's not really what I wanted it to be.”

Ja’far opened his eyes and glanced down at his neck, barely able to see something red hanging there. Gingerly he lifted it up, and saw a teardrop shaped ruby pendant, strung onto a golden thread-like chain that glistened softly.

“Do you like it?” Asked Sinbad, looking at his friend with slight worry in his eyes.

“Yes, but what is it?”

“It’s supposed to be a headdress, but it seems a bit bigger than I had intended. Well, at least we match now!”

“Huh??”

“Look at it, and tell me if it reminds you of anything.”

Ja’far stared intently at the item and blocked out the small talk from around him so he could focus. It looked oddly like a simpler version of…

“Valefor?”

“Mhm! That’s where you became my first follower, and it’s where I saved you. You may be a member of Baal’s household, but Valefor is closer to us. And, it’s a headdress because they symbolize knowledge, and you’ve learned so much and come so far since I met you… But I guess that’ll have to wait until you’re a little bigger.”

Even if Ja’far wiped his tears or tried to keep them from falling, it would have been futile. Those tears wouldn’t stop falling, small hands clutching the pendant around his neck.

“And you’re probably curious about why I sent you on that particular route. Well, you went all over Narpolia, didn’t you? Took courses you wouldn’t have otherwise and saw new streets. I want to show you more new streets, from all different countries,” Sinbad got up and kneeled down, looking up at Ja’far, “So, for another three years, or for forever, let me show you the world and make sweeter memories together?”

Ja’far nodded, on the verge of happy sobbing. Sinbad smiled and embraced the younger boy, soothing hands rubbing the smaller back.

This birthday, Ja’far decided, he didn’t hate.

[anodyne-sunflower]

Love me like you do (Part 7)-Balem series

A/N: Okayyyyyyy! Here we go. This is more of a filler chapter, an unfortunate casualty when making multipart fics. Lol But, I hope it’s still satisfying enough.

***

An orange glow slid along your face, making you scrunch your eyes and groan in annoyance. You were still half asleep, and as far as you were concerned, you were back on earth, lying in your modest bed and snuggled into your blankets. A warmth was next to you, a very comforting heat that you wanted to be apart of, and as you drifted softly into sleep again, your hands touched a smooth surface.

“Mmm…”

You blinked in confusion, running your fingers along it until you focused your vision. As soon as your eyes adjusted, they widened, and you squeaked, scrambling back into the bedsheets. It seems you hadn’t fallen asleep in your bed. This was a large, more than king size mattress, where no matter how far you shifted away, you were just falling into more pillows.

“What-”

You whispered out, trying not to wake Balem, as he slept next to you. You felt as if your entire body was going to give out, as if fainting was the next logical step because the last thing you wanted was to have him wake up and find you there with him. You hardly remember last night, but as sleep slowly drifted from your mind things were becoming more clear.

You remember him trying to seduce you into his bath, and you certainly didn’t forget how well it was working. It was almost too easy to give in and dive in, but you thanked whatever gods allowed you to say no. He, oddly enough, didn’t seemed phased by your denial, like he was already expecting you to run off in a fit of embarrassment. That’s when you must’ve slept, you thought. Because, you don’t remember even coming into bed. Thankfully, you were still clothed in your robe, so nothing had transpired between the two of you.

As a soft groan came from next to you, you glanced back up, watching the man as he turned on his back, eyes still closed as the sheets slipped down to his waist.

“Holy shit…”

It was odd being this close to him, and as much as you wanted to stare at his well built body, you felt wrong. With a turn of your head you focused on the wall, gnawing at your lip and tying to figure out what to do. It was painful to be cooped up in this room, but somehow being near him felt safer than out there. Last thing you needed was to run into another one of those lizard beings just waiting to bite your head off.

The sound of rustling made you panic, and you quickly sank back into the sheets, covering yourself as much as you could as you felt the bed begin to dip. From the shadow along the wall you noticed Balem has gotten up, sitting against his pillows as he ran a hand through his hair. Every nerve in your body was set to react, and you only hoped he assumed you were sleeping.

A deep guttural sigh came from him, and he began to lean over, his arm coming into your view, and for a second you truly believed he was about to cuddle you. Instead, he hovered over you, tapping the tablet on the nightstand as he spoke.

“Mr. Night.”

The tablet beeped, a screen appearing above it as Mr. Night’s face came into view. You shut your eyes again, not wanting him to alert his lord that you were actually awake. But, what a sight this must be, you thought. Balem hovering over you, half naked and you tangled in his sheets like nothing but sin took place in this room. The universe was certainly against you as of late.

“Lord Balem, I bid you a good-”

“I did not ask for your pleasantries, Mr. Night. Have my ship prepared for Departure immediately. I’ve business to attend to.”

“Yes, my lord. Where shall I have them set course to?”

“Zalintyre.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

The conversation between the two was brief, and you let out a breath of relief when he moved away from you.

“Do you believe me to be foolish?”

His words caused a chill to run up your spine, and you slowly looked over your shoulder to see him already staring at you. His gaze was annoyed, lips set into a deep scowl as he considered you with interest. You supposed now, that it was probably the worse idea to pretend to be asleep. It never worked on your parents, so why would it with some extraterrestrial being.

“I-”

He scoffed at you, resting his arm on his knee as he rubbed at his tired eyes. He was propped up against the pillows, clearly trying to prepare his mind for whatever business he had today. But, all you could do was lay there, staring at him as if he still wasn’t real and this was some crazy dream of yours.

“Alright…I’m…sorry…”

Balem turned his gaze towards you once more, furrowing his brows in confusion at your apology. He clearly had no clue what you were referring to, and every second that ticked by only made him more frustrated.

“You are wearing my patience, little-”

“I meant for sleeping on your bed, I don’t even remember falling asleep to begin with.”

Your memory was still fuzzy, and you only guessed the entire whirlwind of a day you experienced yesterday was the cause of it. Your dreams were no better, nightmares plagued your thoughts, and you were more than tired from a lack of good rest.

Balem, at least as much as he could be, appeared amused at your words. And as you slowly began to sit up, he just shrugged his shoulder, clearly not as concerned about last night’s events as you were.

“I brought you to bed with me, little bird.”

His confession made you flustered, and you stared a bit taken back, as he said it so nonchalantly. He seemed to catch on to your confused look, and he rolled his eyes as he looked you over.

“You fell asleep.”

He pointed towards the lounging chairs near his dresser, and you started to remember vague details about curling into the corner of the large black lounger. It must’ve been sometime after he got in the bath, but you were sure of it now. The feeing of a stranger’s arms wrapping around you, your body snug against a strong chest that smelled like vanilla and spice. It was comforting in a way, and now that it was all coming back to you, your face flushed.

“You carried me?”

He didn’t seem the type, in fact, in your mind you thought if you had given in to his seduction he would’ve thrown you out of his room in a heartbeat after. Yet, here he was making sure your personal comfort was tended to.

Balem’s eyes traveled the entirety of your body, fixating on the exposed skin of your shoulder where your collarbone dipped perfectly. He wondered what you tasted like, wondered what sounds you’d make if he just got the chance to kiss along that smooth flesh and make you his. And as you distracted yourself with the thought of him catering to you, he leaned over, crawling on top of you and making you sink back into the sheets of his bed.

“Would you prefer I leave you to sleep like some commoner?”

You were too busy trying to control your labored breathing you didn’t answer him, you just closed your eyes and hoped he’d stop his current assault on your every sense. But, Balem only furthered his seduction, smirking as he brushed his lips across your cheek, making you let out a long sigh that pleased him to no end.

“Would you care to know what you said in your sleep?”

There was no doubt you had said something completely unwarranted last night. Something that had managed to keep him endlessly amused until he could mention it to you the next morning. You were already a complete mess under him, and you didn’t feel knowing was necessary, so you simply shook your head.

His chuckle made you shiver, and you could feel his breath ghost along your flesh, making goosebumps rise. He placed his lips next to your ear, whispering out his knowledge.

“My name, little bird.”

His fingertips slid along your cheek, eyes darkening as they had the night before. You already knew what he was thinking, and it made you hold your breath in anticipation. The sad part was, you wanted him to do it, to lean down and kiss you. Your lips tingled, as if they too were ready and willing for this man to just have you in every way. And as he slowly dipped forward, you felt your heart race, blood pounding in your ears, and mind screaming for you to stop him, yet…you weren’t sure you could.

Your lips parted, body reacting on its own accord, and you were just waiting for him to slip his tongue in and make you admit how badly you needed this despite what your moral compass said. But, all that came was a soft brush of his lips on yours, making you whimper pathetically.

“My Lord.”

The doors to his chambers opened, and Balem turned to look back at the two serving girls entering his room completely unannounced. You noticed the way his eyebrow twitched, his anger levels rising at having been disturbed in the most intimate of times. But, you didn’t care to ease his rage right now. You realized how compromising this position appeared, and as the two girls looked at you both you shrugged the edge of your robe back up, blushing madly as you sank further into the sheets in shame.

Balem was settled between your spread legs, one hand upon your thigh, and his other resting next to your tousled hair. The sheets covering both of your most intimate areas didn’t leave much to the imagination, and you could only guess what these two women were thinking.

“My Lord we-”

The First Primary was seething by now, his rage directed at these two poor souls who would dare interrupt him now of all times. And you couldn’t stop yourself from flinching as his tone rose, scaring the two as they fell to their knees and bowed before him.

“I should have your heads for this!”

“We’re sorry, Lord Balem…we just brought the-”

If there was one thing that managed to unnerve you it was his loud, booming, voice that threatened to kill anyone who got in his way. Even for the smallest of things, and in attempt to ease the suffering on your ears and the girls, you ran your fingers along his forearm, trying to distract him from their monumental screw up.

At the feeling of your soft fingertips against his muscles he turned back to you, squinting down at your face as he tried to figure out what you were doing. Either way, he seemed to lose complete interest in decapitating the two women, and he whispered back in contempt.

“Enter my chambers unannounced again, and I will hold you both accountable.”

“Y-Yes, my Lord.”

At their shaky apologies, he scoffed, looking down at you and making a promise before he got off the bed to get dressed.

“We’ll continue this later.”

Both serving girls dressed him quickly, and you could tell the younger one was visibly trembling before him. She seemed much like you in that moment, both entranced and scared of this enigma of a man.

“As requested, Lord Balem. We’ve brought the dresses you ordered.”

The older one from the night before held them out to him, the entire wardrobe of dresses cascading in numerous colors down her arms as she awaited his approval. Balem seemed decently pleased with them, and he shuffled through the pile as he nodded.

“They’ll do. Dress her, and make sure she’s acquainted with her duties.”

He didn’t bother looking back at you, he grabbed his rings from the glass bowl on his dresser, and placed them back on his fingers as the doors to his chambers opened. He walked out, cape flowing behind, and all you heard was him somewhat greeting Mr. Night.

As soon as the doors shut, the older woman turned to the younger, smiling and rubbing her shoulder in comfort. “Go, I will take care of this.” The young serving girl hugged her in thanks, and immediately left to perform other duties.

“It’s nice to see you again.”

She smiled at you, walking over to the bed and giggling when she found you hiding underneath the covers in embarrassment.

“Come now. Did I not tell you yesterday that he always gets his way? Lord Balem is a man who’s very good at getting what he wants.”

“We didn’t do anything!”

You slid from underneath the blankets, blushing softly as you moved some strands of your hair away. She didn’t seem convinced by your statement, and she only smiled smugly as she laid the dresses down on the bed.

“Don’t be so modest. You’re not the first to share his bed, miss.”

“Yeah yeah, you told me that already.”

You really just wanted this conversation to end, but as she sifted through the dresses you knew she’d be here for a while.

“So nothing happened?”

She raised her well done eyebrow at you, picking out a gold satin dress from the pile and holding it up as she eyed you carefully.

“No.”

“That mark on your neck would say otherwise.”

Her cheeky comment made you slap your hand over it, and you scowled in annoyance at yourself and at Balem. He no doubt did that on purpose, and you had completely forgotten it even existed. Trying to weasel your way out of this wasn’t going to be easy.

“He…tried to…”

“Did you spurn his advances?!”

She failed at stifling her laugh, putting the dress down and cupping your chin as she observed your features. She pushed some hair behind your ear, angling your face as she nodded to herself.

“Well, yes but-”

“No wonder he’s in such a mood today. More than usual. Though I suppose our interruption didn’t help much.”

“No, no…” You tried to swat her hand away, but she kept at it anyway. “Your interruption was welcomed.”

“Mmm.” She smiled, pulling you up off the bed and towards the bath. It didn’t take much for her to undress you and start scrubbing at your skin. It was far too awkward and even more degrading than you anticipated, but she hardly seemed phased by it. “Afraid you might like it?”

You looked up at her, grateful when she finished washing your hair and helped you from the bath. You slipped back into the robe, scowling when she started waving that quick changer technology around you. Only this time it aided in curling your hair and instantly drying it.

“No, of course not…”

But, there was maybe some truth to her statement, not that you’d admit it out loud to her. “What’s your name anyway? I’m sorry I didn’t catch it before.”

She waved the pole around you, the gold dress now clinging beautifully to your curves and sleeves dipping off your shoulders. If possible, this dress was even prettier than the one before. But, you still felt far too overdressed.

“It’s Nevaeh, yours?”

“Y/N.”

“Then it’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Y/N.”

Nevaeh gave a slight bow, taking your hand and curling her arm around yours as she led you out the doors, eager to show you your new role here.

****

A/N: As always, if y'all can provide feedback HMU 👏🏻

[everythingbooks2018]

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Cover Designer: Jennifer Bosco Cover Design

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#propertyofparrishforever #jackandreina #brandedbythebulldog

.•´✶Blurb.•´✶

It’s not a wicked world that drives a man to sin, it’s a deranged mind. Baptized in dirty water by Satan himself, I’ve spent my whole life fighting the good fight, searching for the light in the darkness of insanity. Now, the light I’ve basked in for so long is finally dimming and the time has come for me to take my final bow before the curtain closes on my sanity.

After making a deal with the district attorney and providing my club with full immunity for the crimes we’ve committed, I have twenty-four hours to remind my wife, Reina, why she fell in love with a bastard like me before I turn myself in and break her heart.

But twenty-four hours isn’t enough.

Not for me and certainly not for the Devil.

Tragedy strikes, and my world implodes. It’s lights out for Jack and Reina and a man can’t survive without his sunshine. Engulfed in darkness, consumed by the crazy, I’m a weapon of mass destruction, ready to wreak havoc on the wicked world.

Word to the wise—proceed with caution, motherf*ckers.

The Bulldog is back!

.•´✶Excerpt•´✶ © Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante Bosco.

“I didn’t realize you would be joining us today, Mrs. Parrish,” the district attorney, Matt Ritzer, says, tearing his eyes away from me to glance thoughtfully at my wife. Turning my head, I watch Reina lift her head and stare at the man looking to lock me up and throw away the key. Without responding, she tucks a golden strand of hair behind her ear and for a split second I forget we’re in a room full of attorneys and federal agents. I forget we’re teetering on the edge of a sentence and imagine fisting those locks as I bend her over the table and fuck her raw.

Raw and hard.

Wild and reckless.

Like a ruthless savage, branding her over and over so that long after those iron bars close in on me, Sunshine feels me between her legs.

“I go wherever he goes,” she says calmly, forcing me back to reality. Without looking at me, she reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. “Until you take him away from me and I no longer can.”

To the room full of suits, her voice is strong—her words cunning but I hear the despair laced with every syllable and I feel her hand slightly tremble against mine. It forces my gaze downward. Dripping in faded ink and silver rings, my fingers intertwine with hers. Pale, dainty and perfectly manicured—that’s my Sunshine.

The beacon of light in my dark and cruel world.

Lifting my head, the voices around us fade and I just stare at her profile, cementing her delicate features to my failing mind. I remember the first time I saw her face, the first time she acknowledged my existence. Her dull eyes called to me, beckoning me to dig deeper and discover the heart and soul of their owner.

Her soul was broken, that I knew but, her heart—I never expected it to be as generous as it’s been and I sure as fuck never thought I’d be the bastard she gave it to. She saved me the trouble of stealing it because come hell or high water I would’ve taken it, anyway.

I’m selfish like that.

Always taking what I don’t deserve.

Dirtyin’ up the clean.

Tainting the pure.

Corrupting the innocent.

Playing God with everyone who comes into my life. Reina never stood a chance with me as her acting messiah but, fuck if I don’t love her. For every bit of wrong I’ve done in my life, I must’ve done something right for her to stick with me.

You can say it’s because she loves me but, I’m no fool and I’ve lived enough life to know love isn’t always enough. Another woman would’ve run for the fucking hills. Another woman would’ve committed my mentally deranged ass. And another woman wouldn’t be sitting next to me holding my hand as I break her heart and destroy our lives all for the sake of brotherhood.

It’s more than love.

It’s salvation.

It’s knowing you were born to complete the other half of someone. It’s finding the remedy to heal your fractured soul, to piece together the broken parts and make them whole.

“There’s always visitation,” my lawyer whispers to her. That’s when she breaks her stare with the district attorney and turns her eyes to me. I watch them fill with tears and I lean into her, lifting my free hand to her face. I pull her closer, touch her forehead to mine and give her what she needs to hear.

“You,” I murmur, taking us back to the beginning.

Back to basics when two words defined a lifetime.

After a beat, she nods slightly and returns the gift, giving me what I need to serve my impending sentence.

“Me,” she assures.

Always her.

Clearing his throat, Ritzer commands my attention. Releasing a growl, I pull back and slice my gaze to the man sitting across from me.

“We’ve gone over the deal legal counsel has proposed and are willing to negotiate the terms,” he says, sliding a stack of papers across the mahogany table. Before I can lift a finger, my lawyer reaches over and takes the proposal.

Still holding Reina’s hand, I lean back in my chair and watch intently as my five hundred dollar an hour lawyer skims the deal.

“I thought he said it was solid?” Reina whispers.

Squeezing her hand, I don’t respond. Instead, I clench my jaw and wait for someone to tell us what’s going on. The room goes silent as my lawyer continues to flip through the pages and then it happens…

The voice of my maker calls in the distance.

You’re fucked Parrish.

“Fifteen years?” Reina shrieks, releasing my hand. Her outburst drags me away from my mind and the two words that we weren’t expecting to hear.  “No one said anything about fifteen years,” she cries, turning her attention to me.

Not willing to see the heartache reflected in her eyes, I cowardly keep my attention focused on my attorney, hoping he pulls a rabbit out of his hat or creates a miracle of some kind. Jeffrey Holden has gotten rich over the last two decades but he’s also kept my ass out of prison.

Every dog has its day, Bulldog.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I struggle to fight the voice inside my head. That vile bitch who loves to drag me down to hell any chance she gets.

“Jack,” Reina croaks next to me, demanding answers. Blinking, I slice my eyes back to hers, watching as she angrily wipes at the tears falling down her cheeks. I know the thoughts running through her head because they’re exactly the same as mine.

Like me, she’s calculating the age our son will be when I’m released and already mourning the years I’ll miss of his life. My chest starts to ache as I picture the boy I’m leaving behind and the grown man he’ll be in fifteen years. I’m losing out on all the moments I never got to share with his brother who was taken from the world too soon.

Then, there’s also the promise to teach him all the things in life a boy needs to learn in order to become a man that going away will force me to break.

Reina’s also thinking about my daughter Lacey, wondering if her mind will withstand this latest blow to our family and acknowledging the fact that the baby, she’s carrying won’t know its grandpa. Again, I close my eyes and allow myself a moment to recall walking my daughter down the aisle, kissing her cheek and giving her hand to the man I trusted most in the world. My throat constricts with emotion just as it did on her wedding day and one cherished memory bleeds into another, taking me back to yesterday when she shared her sonogram photo with me.

I finally let myself look at Reina—really look at her. I memorize her features and pray to whatever god will listen that while I’m alone, rotting in my cell my mind will allow me to remember all the many expressions her beautiful face has gifted me over the years. May I always recall the sound of her laugh and the sweet fucking sounds she makes when she comes undone.

You’re going to lose her, Parrish.

[teachingenglishuniverse-blog]

Notebook Identity by Saranya

4, 5, 16, 24. They’re solid and bold, their black outlines jumping out at me as if I’ll forget them one day. And a part of me knows I will.

           Something happened. I wish I could tell you, but I keep on forgetting. I’ve given up on trying to remember, so I’ve even told the doctors to stop reminding me. All I know is that I’m in a hospital and I have to remember the numbers 4, 5, 16, and 24. There are a lot of things I don’t know anymore. I just keep waking up to the same numbers.

           There’s a reason why my body is covered in white and there are straps holding down my legs. Those things don’t scare me. The random strangers who walk in do. They tell me who I am and why I’m here. They tell me about a life I used to live, but I know it’s a lie.

 It all started with 1. From what the women in white have told me, there was an accident. What kind of accident, it doesn’t matter. At least, not to me.  I tell them that it doesn’t change the fact that I’m here. They don’t bug me about it for the rest of day, and I sit contentedly waiting for the numbers to pass.

           Weirdly enough, the same thing happens on the next day. This time I tell them to get me a notebook, so they don’t forget. It feels as if I’m repeating myself day after day. Of course, I tell them this, but all they do is smile at me. I ignore them. At least I have something to write down my thoughts.

           When 3 is circled on the big board in front of me, I tell the women who come to meet me that I need a notebook. They tell me things about who I am and what happened, but the notebook I forgot I had tells me to ignore them. It only looks like my own writing when my pen forms words on the scratchy paper. I’m not the type of person to forget things like this.

           4 reminds me of something. I don’t know what, but when I wake up, a lady comes into my room and tells me that I am expecting a guest. It looks like I’m in a hospital. An accident. I was in an accident.

           Before I get to collect my thoughts, someone walks in. She is clearly upset, clutching a half-used tissue paper to her chest. Why? Beats me. I ask her who she is and I don’t get an immediate reply. “I’m your wife,” she says after a long pause.

           I feel like her words are supposed to matter more, but I don’t lie. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but I think you’re in the wrong room.” Her eyes widen and she disappears when I call the white women to come. I am not in a hospital to be yelled at by a stranger about my responsibilities and preoccupations. She’s clearly delusional, but I don’t forget to write down the encounter in my notebook.

           My notebook tells me that the lady yesterday smelled like tulips. I believe her relative showed up today. He seemed pretty upset, yelling words like ‘filth’ and ‘scum’ at me. Not very nice words to be saying to a stranger, but since he was a kid I let him go. He, too, seemed to be as delusional as his mother. “If you don’t want to own up to the hell you caused us, then you don’t need to be my father anymore,” he says. Well, that’s what I’ve been telling you all along. I stay quiet because I think it’ll make him leave faster. I’m right. He leaves and hands the tulips in his arms to a woman in white. I continue to look at the numbers in front of me as my notebook tells me to. They’re boring.

           I’m not exactly sure why I always ask the white women to get me a notebook. I think it’s because I keep on forgetting, like the women in white. I even forgot about that boy from yesterday. Short brown hair. Angry eyes. Tattered blue jeans and white all over his torso. The women tell me that he looks like me. I just laugh and tell them that’s because they forgot how he looks like.

           It only occurs to me when 6 is circled that I have no idea who I am. My notebook seems to tell me one thing and the white women tell me something different. I’ve apparently been telling them day after day to stop bugging me about what happened, but every day they tell me the exact same thing. No matter how much I don’t want to hear it, they act as if one day I’ll wake up and suddenly change my mind. There is something wrong with me, I think.

           7: Still nothing. A part of me is scared for what kind of news I’ll get from the white women. Maybe I’m dead. Maybe I’m being forced to live out every day of my life over and over again to atone for my sins. I don’t even know what kind of sins I ought to atone for.

           When I wake up the next day, two people stand over me. They look a lot less like death and a lot more like messengers. When I wake up, they stop talking. They ask me where I am. Of course I’m in the hospital—what kind of question is that? I close my eyes. There was an accident. I look at the board in front of me—8. I close my eyes again. There was an accident.

           “You lived life too fast,” one voice said.

           “You didn’t live fast enough,” said the other.

           I realize then that I am living on the edge of a precipice. Looking at the ceiling but bound to the bed. How fast am I going? It doesn’t matter, there’s no destination.

           A woman walks in—she tells me she’s my nurse for the first time. I feel like she’s told me that before because she’s wearing white. She tells the men that I need rest and I thank her as they say goodbye. A part of me wishes I knew who they were. They never introduced themselves, but I’m sure I wouldn’t have believed them anyway.

           “Here’s your notebook,” the nurse says. I feel so lost. Why do I need a notebook? I take it anyway and see writing I don’t recognize. There’s so much that my head starts to turn and my eyes start to burn. I rub them and the nurse’s eyes widen before she calls a doctor. I look down. There’s something red on my hands.

 The number 11 is circled on the board in front of me, only a few days before 16, which is weirdly bolded. The only other ones are 4, 5, and 24. I wonder what they mean.

           The board says 13 when I wake up. A woman in a white is sitting on a chair beside me. I ask her who she is when she wakes up.

           “I’m your doctor,” she says.

           “I’ve been in an accident,” I tell her.

           “Here’s your notebook.” She hands me some papers. I open it up and read my own entries while she sits patiently beside me. I get to the last entry—8. It’s blood-stained. The doctor tells me that my eyes are beginning to deteriorate. I tell her I feel fine and she leaves.

           The days leading up to 16 are a blur. People come and go, saying things about me as they see fit. I write them all down because I don’t know who I am. At the same time, I don’t believe them. I don’t know who I am but that doesn’t mean that others can decide my identity.

           My words tell me that I was suffering from problems. They told me about how much of a loss it was to lose me. I don’t feel lost. They tell me that I loved my family and I did my very best to help them. I have no family. They tell me that I had no way of stopping whatever happened, that they wish they could have done something. I don’t see their point and I don’t try because they are the words of strangers.

           And I don’t, at first.

           16. The boy with the short brown hair came again, this time at night. He has sad eyes today. I wouldn’t have noticed it was him if the white women didn’t say that a boy who looked like me was going to come. Of course it was him. I didn’t need them to tell me that.

           He looks malnourished. Not enough sleep, not enough time. Dead.

           “I didn’t want to come back, but I know she would have wanted me to,” he starts. I don’t know who he’s talking about, but I don’t really care so I look out the window. “I’m sorry I said those things. I was just angry and I was scared of losing mom.” He starts to cry, but I don’t move. I want to call one of the women to come get him, but a part of me pities him. He tells me that he doesn’t want to lose me too, that he knows what the doctors have been saying and what everyone else has been saying. He tells me lies I’ve heard already and don’t want to anymore. I tell him I’m sorry and he leaves without another word. I have a feeling I won’t be seeing him again.

           The next day there are more strangers. They give me flowers and tell me they’re sorry for my loss. They tell me that she was a wonderful woman and that she will be missed. They scare me. I don’t know what they’re talking about or who this woman is. They expect no reply from me, and more and more filter in throughout the day.

           I get called names. People tell me that I used to always flip at others for saying stuff about me. I don’t know who they’re talking about, but I listen anyway, recording everything in my notebook. The doctors tell me I’m going to die, but I feel fine. The strangers tell me I’m going to be okay, but sometimes I feel like dying. The time doesn’t feel right, I don’t feel right. There’s something missing. I was in an accident.

           The board in front of me tells me that I have five days before the last circle. I don’t know what it means, but the doctors told me that I was going to be better soon. They would fix me and then I wouldn’t need the numbers anymore.

           But I had started to find solace in them. The way they were crooked and bent at all the right places so that it could be legible, broken lines to form a whole, so close to remembering but still so far away from what used to be. My words, spoken by others and written by me.

           Five days before 24. A woman who called herself my doctor came in and told me they were going to do a big operation when 24 arrived, and that’s why they have it circled. She told me it was going to fix all of me, even my eyes. I haven’t been able to see or feel a lot of things recently. I don’t know why. I feel fine. A bit cold, that’s all.

           Today is 24. It feels like I’m on the precipice again. My notebook doesn’t lie to me, and neither do my numbers. Even though everything feels normal—even though I feel like a vegetable, just lying down and watching people pass by—everything feels so much clearer. A last glimpse of the world.

           “You were in an accident,” the nurse tells me. I know. But then she tells me that I have severe post-traumatic-something, and that I have a notebook to record everything that’s happened in the hospital. Something about 24 hours. I don’t remember hearing about this before, and take the notebook given to me. I don’t recognize the words, and I tell the nurse that the notebook isn’t mine. She insists that I take it, and I read it over.

           The words tell me that I have a family. They tell me that I will be loved and missed, and that I was lucky to find people who cared so much. They tell me that there was nothing that could have helped me recover. I was a tyrant, scum, filth. I had a long life ahead of me, but I lived it too fast and altogether not enough. I loved the smell of tulips, and my son was the spitting image of me. I treated him too harshly. I was stubborn. I was angry. I had no future. I was going to die. They would be glad.

           I tell the nurse that these words aren’t mine, and they’re not hers to give to me. But she tells me to write something, and my words look exactly like the words in the notebook. I tell her that this is not me, that the shadows who came in told me these lies and I had to write them down. She looks at me for a second and then tells me that guests are not allowed on this floor of the hospital.

           I tell her that I have a wife and a son, and that I lived too fast, took a wrong turn too many times. She tells me that they died in the crash, and I was the only one left. There are only nurses and doctors here, my women in white.

           The numbers don’t mean anything anymore. My notebook doesn’t make my identity. I throw it at the wall, and sheets fly everywhere. I tell the nurse to take away the board with the numbers. She ignores my request and I watch as more white women come and get me.

           The next time I wake up, I look straight in front of me. A presence to my right starts to tell me good morning and that I was in an accident, but I can’t move. I am strapped to a machine that is attached to my brain and I am surrounded by holograms. I begin to remember what happened. I permitted a company to implant a thought into my mind – that I was not the one that killed my family. But something is wrong. Why am I remembering this?

             I try to break free but they sedate me. I close my eyes even though it’s already dark, waiting for the numbers to come back to me.

           4, 5, 16, 24. I can’t see the numbers anymore.