#today was my first chance to ride a jet ski and of course i feel groggy and beg my mom to let me stay at the cabin | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

killingkueen · 4 years ago

Text

Much More Than This

Hello, hello, hello @mrs-stiltskin! Can you believe it’s me again???

Prompt: cats, dogs, books, opposites attract

Summary: Mr. Gold tries not to pay much attention to the new librarian and her husband. He tries very, very hard. He almost succeeds.

Rated very E

A/N The First: There is some very mellow m/m as well as some m/f/m, so keep an open mind. It’s also the first slash I’ve ever written—today is the day I became a fanfic author.

2A2N: I have never met a Scottish person in my life

Edited to add AO3 link

OOO

The sky was moody and grey. It hadn’t yet determined if that was because the sun hadn’t fully risen, or if it was a sign of rain. It didn’t matter to Mr. Gold, who parked his Cadillac behind his shop. He parked there everyday, after all. And every day he took his cane and his keys in hand, and opened his shop. Mr. Gold had a strict schedule, a strict routine. That was how he liked it.

At the back door, key out and ready to be slotted into the lock, Gold paused. There were boots sticking out of the bottom of his shop. Boots attached to two squirming legs, the toes digging into the ground for leverage. If he strained his ears, he could make out faint muttering, followed by a psspsspss.

Gold stared, baffled. The boots were old, but not shabby, and along the lines of what he’d seen the dock-workers wear. He didn’t think any of the men who worked there would have the nerve to—what, exactly? Was this a robbery? If it were, he’d give points for creativity.

Whatever he was doing, he was an unwelcome change to Gold’s routine. He had a shop to open. Gold lifted his cane, knocking the handle against the wood paneling of his shop, firm and loud. As he hoped, the man startled, a muffled thud accompanied with what was now cursing as his head hit the floor above him.

The man scrambled out, his limbs kicking up dirt as he backtracked.

Mr. Gold almost smiled. This was the most excitement he had seen in months.

“And just what do you think you’re doing underneath my shop, dearie?”

The man now stood on his knees. His eyes, widened in surprise, snapped to Gold’s face.

“Glasgo’!” he exclaimed. “Isnae this a shock! ”

Gold raised an eyebrow. Not many people in town much cared where he’d come from, and a good amount of them swore it was somewhere much warmer than Scotland. Glasgow was a dreary place full of nothing of value to him, and he couldn’t say he missed his homeland.

“From Scotland yourself?” Gold found himself asking.

“Aye, I grew up in the highlands in a wee toon near Inverness.” He brushed off the front of his jacket, dusty from crawling around in the dirt. “I thooght I was stuck wi' these Americans, ye ken.” His smile widened, thrilled at the chance meeting.

That still didn't give him the answer he wanted. “What are you doing under my shop?" he asked again. What was he doing in Storybrooke, for that matter? It was still too early in the season for tourists.

The man’s eyes were too wide for his face, and very expressive. They darted away, to the library across the street, and for just a moment he looked like a kid who’d been sent home with a note from the teacher. The library. Of course.

Gold had heard the new librarian arrived last week, having come all the way from—London, was it? The UK, at least. He remembered the name he’d read when he filed the contracts with the city council: Isabelle French. He had seen a second visa for the husband, though Gold couldn't recall reading the name. He would bet his current inventory he was looking at him.

“Mr. French,” Gold said, deciding he didn’t much care what the man’s name was. He relished the look of surprise that appeared on his face for the second time that morning. It made Gold feel more on balance, knowing things people didn’t expect him to. Much more regular, keeping the townsfolk on their toes.

“Och aye, that’s reit.” A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He half shrugged. “That’s me, innit.” His shoulders straightened with—pride, was it?

The man was thin, and the baggy clothes he wore only made him look smaller. Even on his knees, Gold could tell he wouldn’t stand any taller than himself, and tall was certainly not a word he could claim. His hair was shaggy but not quite to the point of being unkempt, and he needed a shave.

He also needed to know how things worked around here.

“Mr. French,” he said again, digging his cane into the ground. It was quite easy to look down his nose at him, when the man was already so far below him. “Just what were you doing under my shop?”

“Ah,” French blinked. “I havenae adjusted tae bein' haur yit. Jet lag, I’spose.” At Gold’s unamused expression, he hastened to add, “Sae, I was oot walkin' thes morn when I saw a moggie athwart th' causey. Puir hin' was injured. When I tried tae approach it, it ran under yer shop an' noo won’t come it.”

Gold was viscerally aware he hadn’t set foot in Scotland in nearly thirty years.

“There is a cat under my shop,” he surmised.

“Aye.” He stared up at him, brown eyes wide and waiting.

“What?“ Gold asked impatiently.

“You sound almost American,” French said around a half-smile.

That’s where they were, isn’t it? He pursed his lips. “How are you going to get the cat out, then?”

“If I had something tae wrap her in, I could pull her out safely, I think.” His eyes trailed to Gold’s throat and he knew what he was going to ask the moment before he did. “Do you mind if I knick your scarf?”

Yes, I absolutely do, Gold thought. He pulled the scarf from his throat, the cold air biting at his neck and collar bone, now bare. It was soft and wide, perfect for the early spring, and long enough to wrap around his neck twice and still dangle nicely. It annoyed him, probably more than it should, that it technically was perfect to wrap a cat in.

He held it out to French wordlessly.

“Cheers,” French said, disappearing under the wooden base, leaving Gold to stare at the heel of his boots once again.

Cane in hand, Gold waited.

French spoke in a low, even voice. Gold couldn’t make out what he was saying but it sounded comforting. Hopefully the cat agreed. After a few silent moments, Gold heard a terrible yowling, like a broken siren.

Making much slower progress than before, French inched his way from under the shop, the yowling becoming louder and louder.

“I suppose the noise is a good sign,” Gold said, voice raised over the beastie.

“She’s got a pair of lungs on her,” French agreed. He was smothered in dirt again, the knees of his jeans particularly dark.

He eased himself to his knees, rearranging the bundle in his arms so he had a much firmer grip before he carefully moved to his feet. The cat was wrapped quite securely in the scarf, enough so that Gold could only see a small tuft of dark fur peak through. He took it as further good news that he couldn’t see any obvious wet spots seeping into the fabric. Mr. Gold didn’t like blood.

After a long moment, French coughed. “Where tae now then?” He was cradling the cat like it was a child, holding it firmly to his chest. His hand rubbed circles against it’s back, which did nothing to silence the shrieking.

“You’re not bringing that mongrel inside,” Gold said.

“You dinnae look like much of a veterinarian,” French fired back.

Gold narrowed his eyes. Yes, it would be a vet he’d want. “Marian Hood owns a clinic that’s across the street from the elementary school.” She was known to be quite an early riser herself; chances were she was already inside her building, getting ready for the day.

French looked at him expectantly.

Sighing, he said, “Go north a few blocks and then take a left at the movie theatre. Once you reach Marco’s Woodworking, take another left. You’ll find it eventually.”

“Right. Thanks for the help, Mr. Gold.”

With that, the man turned to leave. Gold looked to the sky. It seemed to be settling on rain, after all. Hm. Gold wasn’t going to offer him a ride; the man had just been rolling around in the dirt. Besides, he had a shop to open.

“Mr. French,” he called, just as the man reached the sidewalk. “It’s too long to walk.”

“Oh,” he said, frowning. “But I don’t have a—”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Gold started to limp to his caddy. “Get in before I change my mind, Mr. French,” he said, opening the passenger side door with no small amount of sarcastic grandeur.

The ride was broken only by the pathetic wailing of the poor creature, and the quieting shushing of the man who held her.

Gold would open his shop as soon as he dropped them off. Then his routine would be back to normal, and he’d again be ignorant to the existence of Mr. and Mrs. French.

OOO

The sunshine was bright through the windows of the pawn shop. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky when Mr. Gold opened for the day. Only blue skies could be seen through his shop windows when he heard the bell signal someone had opened his door.

Gold didn’t look up from his ledger. An air of aloof casualness always worked best as a starting point. They were the ones encroaching on his day, after all.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he said, making a mark that he would erase later as the sound of heels clicked across his floor. He didn’t look up when the clicking stopped in front of him at the counter. After a pause, a plastic bag was set down on the glass.

Something to pawn, then. Shame. He was almost in the mood to argue about rent. Gold’s eyes flickered up. Standing before him was a woman he’d never seen before. She was quite pretty. At least her profile was; she was currently scanning the shelves of their various glassware and bits and bobs.

“Do you have many books here?” She turned in a slow circle to take it all in.

“No.”

The woman looked at him. “There’s antiques here, too, right? It’s not just a pawn shop?”

“Books aren’t really what most people think of when they think of antiques.”

“No, because then they’re usually called first editions.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, and nodded his head slightly, conceding her point. “All the same. My apologies.” His regular buyers weren’t interested in books, and certainly no one in town was either.

“I suppose I’m surrounded by enough books, as it is,” she said, sighing.

Gold had a feeling he knew who this newcomer was. He should leave it alone. He had enough work to keep him busy.

“If you’re interested, I can ask my contacts. I know a person or two in the rare books trade.” He knew exactly no one but they’d be easy enough to track down.

She smiled, delighted surprise brightening her eyes. He had been mistaken before, calling her pretty.

“That’s so kind of you to offer. I’ll let you know.”

Mrs. Isabelle French, new head librarian of the Storybrooke Library, was beautiful.

He nodded, not trusting anything he could say to her. She smiled again. It felt like a bullet straight to his chest.

“Yes, well.” Her hand went to the bag, almost forgotten on the counter. “I’m afraid I’m actually here about a different matter. You no doubt know who I am already, but all the same: hello. My name is Belle French, and it’s nice to meet you.” She opened the bag, taking out a familiar scarf.

“I know it’s rude to return something without having it cleaned, especially over a week later and especially with how my husband absconded with it in the first place, but it’s a very fine material? And hand dyed, which of course you would already know.” She bit her lip. The previous surprise on her face had long since evaporated, leaving nothing but worry.

The scarf had been a gift from his son from when the lad had taken a school trip to Europe. Neal had bought it from a boutique he probably shouldn't have been in, proud to present his papa with something that met his high standards. The silk was lovely and soft. It was his favorite; the final thing he reached for when he left the house on chilly days. His son had given it to him, after all, which made it irreplaceable.

“It’s just a scarf, Mrs. French.”

He shook the fabric, wanting to see the full extent of the damage. Near the center were two dark patches, clotting the silk. And there, at the end of one side, was two more.

“The thing is, the lady at the dry cleaners wasn’t sure if it could be saved. We’re on a strict budget until I get paid, and with the surprise expense of emergency vet bills,” she risked a slightly ironic smile, “I can’t justify paying for a service that might not even work.”

“I was the one who gave it to your husband,” he reminded her. “He didn’t snatch it from me. I was under the impression the cat wasn’t yours.”

“She wasn’t.” Shrugging, she said, “She at least hasn’t been chipped nor reported missing. Rum can’t bear the thought of leaving her at the pound, and so it would seem we have a new roommate. And honestly, if we were going to pay for the cost of fixing her up, we might as well take her in. Rum always said he was a dog person through and through, but he’s thrilled we have her now. Honestly it’s worth the bill to see him this happy.”

Mrs. French shook her head, blushing at her rambling. “My point was, if you took the scarf to the dry cleaners yourself, or just bought a replacement, we’ll pay you back for it as soon as my first paycheck comes in.”

“That won’t be for two months, at least.” Government jobs were notoriously finicky when it came to billing cycles, and the town having what could be considered a minuscule government didn’t make the paperwork any less annoying.

“I’m happy to sign something.”

“It’s just a scarf,” Gold heard himself say again. “Don’t worry yourself.”

The woman opened and closed her hands, confused about the lifeline placed in front of her. No doubt she’d been regaled with stories of the cruel, evil landlord from the townsfolk. On a different day he’d be more than happy to meet her expectations. Perhaps he merely wanted to make a good first impression.

She finally seemed to settle on a smile, small and relieved. “As soon as I get the library open, be sure to come visit, alright? I’ll get you signed up for a card, free of charge.”

Was that a wink? Gold had always thought library cards were already free, but then again, the town had been without a library for as long as he’d lived in it.

“Perhaps.” With careful hands, he folded Neal’s scarf into an orderly rectangle. He knew a few tricks for cleaning silk. “Good day, Mrs. French.”

After only a moment of hesitation, the sound of her heels clicked out his door.

OOO

Gold decided the best thing to do was put the Frenchs out of his mind. Better yet, avoid them entirely, as it was clear he couldn’t be trusted around either of them.

That didn’t stop him from hearing things. For instance, Belle had moved to the UK from Australia with her father when she was in primary school. She’d met her husband when she was finishing up her master’s degree and coming off a particularly nasty breakup. As Gold heard it, things were fine until her husband was laid off and they had to move in with her father in London. Unhappy, she went looking for any job that would get them out. A head librarian position in middle of nowhere, Maine? Fine. Perfect. And wasn’t that something else, that they only officially married so he could come with her to her new job in America.

Most interestingly, Gold heard they would sometimes go to the diner for breakfast. The morning Gold walked into Granny’s, it wasn’t like he was expecting to see them, or anything. He just thought it was high time he became a patron of the most popular Storybrooke establishment. Support small business, that kind of thing.

“Glasgow,” he heard before the door had even closed behind him.

Mr. French was waving him over to the booth he shared with his wife, a wide grin on his face.

Gold was going to ignore him, of course. He was going to stare straight ahead and pretend he hadn’t heard.

“Mr. French,” he said, walking slowly over to them. “Good morning.”

“Mr. French?” his wife repeated slowly, raising an eyebrow.

A bashful smile Gold couldn’t explain appeared on French’s face. He shrugged at his wife helplessly.

“Join us for a wee bite, Glasgow? We huvnae ordered yet.” He gestured to the menus spread before them, as if Gold needed proof.

He frowned. He already let them off the hook for the scarf. It was mostly his own fault, after all, and he was nothing if not fair. They didn’t pay rent to him, either, since they were residing in the caretaker’s apartment. Moving across continents was expensive; perhaps they hadn’t budgeted enough for it, especially considering the paycheck problem. If that were the case, they could come to his shop and ask like everyone else.

“I only came in for a cup of coffee,” he demurred.

“Oh.” His face fell, like he was actually disappointed. “You can sit here with it, if you want.”

“If he doesn’t want to join us, we can’t make him, Mr. French.” The look on Belle’s face was unreadable as she stared at him over her mug.

“I liked the sound of it, alright?” His mouth pulled up at the corner. “If that’s what he wants to call me, I’m nae gonna stop him.”

She snorted, her own grin breaking free as she laughed.

Gold looked towards the counter forlornly. He was finding he did not have enough caffeine in his system yet. He supposed he could walk away and wait by the counter like everyone else did, but something kept him by the French’s table. Belle had a pretty laugh. Maybe that was it.

“Mr. French is my father,” she finally explained with an eye roll and shake of her head. “This ridiculous man is Robert McWeaver.”

“Nice tae meet you.”

“Apologies for assuming.” He should have paid more attention to the paperwork. It wasn’t like him, not to pay attention.

“You couldnae have known.” Robert McWeaver took a sip from his own mug. “What would you recommend, then?”

“What?”

“To eat. What’s good?”

Gold wouldn’t know. This was his first time stepping inside for anything other than rent.

“I’m getting the pancakes,” Belle said, eyes on the menu. “Rum’s leaning towards the full breakfast.”

“As close tae an English breakfast as I can get. They got one thing right, eh, the English?” He laughed at his own joke, mouth wide, the crows feet at his eyes giving him a distinguished, friendly look. Gold’s own just made him look old. With his loose clothes and easy smile, McWeaver was the definition of laid back, almost—cool. Someone people gravitated towards. Not that Gold knew anything about it.

But that was the most constant thing he’d heard, wasn’t it? With their wide smiles and kind eyes, it was no wonder how the townsfolk had adopted them so readily. Anyone would be lucky to be their friend, to share in their warmth.

“Take a seat,” Belle said, smiling. “We’ll put an order in, get you your coffee.”

God help him, he almost did just that.

What was with these two?

“Some other day,” he said, turning on his heel. “Ms. French, Mr. McWeaver.”

“We'll hold you to—“ the door latched shut cut off what they were about to say.

Brooding, Gold walked to his shop. Whatever those two were after, they weren’t getting it from him. Besides, there was no room in their happy lives for the heartless, asshole landlord. It was better for everyone if he left them alone. He had held himself apart from the rest of the town for years. That was how he liked it.

Not bothering to flip the sign, Gold went straight to the back, deciding to bury himself in polishing every piece of jewelry in the shop until the lot of it could power a solar panel.

He was working through his collection of wedding rings when the front door opened, bell jangling. A quick look at the clock told him he was supposed to have opened twenty minutes ago. Whatever happened to his routine?

Not bothering with his cane, he stood up and pushed the curtain aside. He promptly froze.

“Alright, Glasgow?”

“Mr. McWeaver,” Gold said, frowning at the nickname. He needed to say something before it became permanent. “Ms. French.”

“Call me Rum.” His smile was back, broad and open as ever.

Gold said nothing, just stood in between the doorway. He had expected to have more time before they came to deal. After his retreat that morning, perhaps they thought it best to get it over with.

“You, uh, left before ordering anything.” Belle placed a to-go cup and a bag down in front of him. “We got you a muffin, too, in case you get peckish.”

They stared at him expectantly. Only when their smiles started to dim did Gold manage to clear his throat.

“Thank you,” he offered.

“We weren’t sure how you liked your coffee, so we just got it black,” Belle said helpfully. “I hope that’s all right.”

Gold liked it with enough sugar to make his auntie's teeth pop out.

“Black is fine.”

He was rewarded with a smile.

“Well,” she said, rocking back on her heels. “We have a shipment of new books coming that I need to sign for, so we’ll get out of your hair. Have a great day, Mr. Gold.”

Before he could do more than nod a goodbye, they were out the door, the bell ringing after them. He watched as Rum reached out to take Belle’s hand. Gold watched as they reached the library doors and she dug through her purse one handed for the keys. Rum kissed her neck, and he couldn’t hear the squeal as she batted him away, but he could imagine it. They were like teenagers; blissfully happy and seemingly untouched by the real world.

Gold looked at his coffee, and saw the heat guard had fallen down. He opened the bag. The muffin was blueberry, his favorite.

Staying away from them would be best.

OOO

Gold soon developed a new routine. Every morning he’d stand by the front counter of his shop and wait for Belle and Rum to make their way to the diner. He never wanted to go himself, but something always convinced him; maybe if Belle’s dress was blue, or if Rum had his arm around her waist rather than looped through her own. Gold would watch until they were out of sight, then finish up whatever busy work he was doing. After locking the door to his shop he’d make his own way down the street.

When he got to Granny’s, he waited at the front so he could order coffee to go. At least he would, if he ever got that far. As soon as Gold was through the door, Rum would call out to him and insist he join their table. Belle and Rum were never ready to order anyway, which was just as well, as he liked to rest his leg before making the short walk back to his shop. And Gold was finding he quite liked the breakfast spread.

So it went in the mornings. Gold knew sometimes they ate dinner there as well, but there was no pattern to when they went and Gold hadn’t run into them on the night’s he popped in, for rent or otherwise.

Currently, Gold had already walked through the door. He was waiting at the front, by the register. Rum usually noticed him by now. He tapped the handle of his cane. The front bar was white and shiny, as it always was. The glasses behind, stacked and waiting for the waitresses to fill them up, all glistened.

Gold shot a glance at their table. Rum was facing him, his elbows on the table, head in his hands, his face rapt as he listened to whatever Belle was saying. He nodded once or twice.

Gold frowned. He wondered what she was saying. Last week, after stumbling on a story about World War I soldiers and how they bonded over their trauma, she had gone on a tangent of medics and the first studies of shell shock. The time before, how cigars were made. It was no wonder Rum hadn't noticed his entrance if Belle was talking about her current passion. She could have anyone riveted with as little as a sigh.

He stepped aside as one of the tables finished up and left, passing him on their way out. This wasn’t part of the routine. Gold was never supposed to actually order coffee to go.

He had overstepped, that was it. They had likely seen him walk in, but hadn’t said anything in the hopes he left without intruding. He could leave them alone for a single morning to enjoy breakfast as a married couple, for once. Did that mean they didn’t want him there anymore? Maybe they were both too nice to say it to his face, and were waiting for him to take the hint instead.

Gold glared at the cups, standing pristine along the wall, as if he could intimidate them into giving him answers.

That was how Ruby found him when she came out of the kitchen, finally.

“Mr. Gold,” she greeted. “Are you going to sit down?”

He ignored her.

From the corner of his eye, he saw her look at Rum and Belle’s table, then back at him. She rolled her eyes.

“Granny,” she bellowed behind her, causing Gold to jump. “Has the special been updated? Like, on the board?”

“I wrote it last night,” Granny yelled back, muffled by the distance.

“Alright.” Ruby’s eyes were on him, something smug and knowing in their depths.

“Glasgow!”

Attention grabbed by Ruby, Rum finally looked up toward the counter to where Gold was brooding.

“You’re late today,” he called with a frown. “Everything all right?”

Ruby snorted. Gold shot her a glare which she promptly ignored.

“Take a seat, Mr. Gold,” she said with a bright smile. “I’ll get started on drinks.”

Rum was still staring at him, eyes overwide and welcoming. He had such an expressive face, so open, so telling, so. Gold wondered what he’d look like below him, panting and wanton.

When Gold continued to stand there, Belle turned as well, looking over her shoulder. Her hair was down today, the sheek brown curls cascading down her back. His fingers itched with his want to bury them in her hair, cradle her head while he kissed her.

These were not new thoughts; they had always been there, just below the surface. He swallowed, trying to bury his feelings deep in his stomach, keeping them from sight.

With numb feet, he limped to the table. Belle scooted to the side, making room for him to slide next to her. He liked the mornings he sat next to Belle; he could smell her perfume, light and floral like roses. And Gold liked when he was facing Rum; half the fun of listening to Belle was watching her husband.

“We havenae ordered yet,” he was saying now, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward. “Just waitin’ for you.”

They were too sweet for him. All this time, Gold was pretending it was just good timing on his part. Oh, but it hurt his heart, to be expected.

“Sorry for the delay,” he said quietly.

“It’s no problem at all.” Belle bumped him with her shoulder. The heat of her burned. “I was just regaling Rum about a new book Ariel recommended, about Octopuses, of all things.”

“Calling them ‘octopi’ is wrong, apparently,” Rum said. “And they have three hearts. And,” he sat up straighter, taking his arms off the table when he spotted Ruby approaching from the kitchen. “And, they remember their handlers, and especially the grudges they hold against each of them.”

“How about we order, and then we’ll catch you up to speed,” she teased.

“I would love nothing more,” he said. He meant every word, from the bottom of his decrepit heart.

OOO

When Gold told himself he had to stay away from them, he meant it. It was Belle and Rum who didn’t seem to get the memo. And okay, maybe he had developed a taste for Granny’s coffee.

At least he could admit to himself now that he didn’t want to stay away. The chance that they felt as deeply for him as he did for them was impossible, the thought of them willingly taking him into their bed was unthinkable. But he could have their friendship. If their mornings together in the diner was all he had of them, he’d cherish that time fiercely.

Seeing one of them alone wasn’t something that happened often, though. Yet here Rum was, no sign of his wife in sight, fidgeting in his shop as if he were a stranger.

“What are you doing here?” Gold asked.

“What, am I not allowed?”

His accent had mellowed in the couple months he’d been in town, through necessity if nothing else. It was a continued source of amusement for Belle that their accents thickened whenever they talked to each other.

Gold put down his pen. He was going through a list of items from an estate sale down south, but that could wait. Spreading his arms across his counter, he gave Rum his full attention, patiently waiting for him to get to the point, or leave. He was used to these sorts of games. Usually he could guess what the other player wanted, though.

Gold would have thought if they wanted something from him they would have asked a long time ago, but situations changed. He hadn’t heard of Rum rescuing any more wayward animals.

Rum’s full attention was currently on the paintings that hung on the wall behind him. Perhaps it was about his pride.

“Do you need a job?” Gold asked.

That surprised Rum enough to make him look over. “A job?” he asked, frowning.

“You don’t work,” Gold pointed out. He knew what Belle’s salary was. It was enough to sustain a two person household, but barely. He couldn’t imagine there was any left at the end of the month to for savings.

“Legally, I can’t. Couldnae get a work visa. Figured it was lucky enough Belle wanted me to come with her at all.” He shrugged. “If it comes to it, I’ll wash dishes at Granny’s. Said she’d pay me under the table.”

“I see.”

“I like not working, to be honest. I’m good at being a house husband.” He flashed a crooked smile, but there something hesitant in it, like he expected derision.

“That so?”

Rum wandered closer, leaning his hip against the counter. “Yeah. I like being able to make a home for Belle. It’s a great feeling, when she comes back to a tidy apartment and a warm meal.”

An image of Rum in a retro house dress, makeup neat and apron pressed, flashed in his mind. Better to focus on that then the stab between his ribs, knowing he was going to a cold, empty house devoid of Rum and Belle’s warmth.

“Now that’s an idea, innit?” Rum perked up, eyes expectant.

For a second, Gold was worried he had spoken aloud. “What is?”

“Dinner. I’m a good cook. Come and try it.”

Gold barked a laugh. Of all the things for him to suggest.

Rum looked down, his smile fading quickly. “It was just an idea,” he mumbled.

Afraid he’d leave, Gold reached out, grabbing his hand where he lay on the counter.

“I thought you were going to ask me for money,” he tried to explain. “Or some other sort of deal.”

Rum looked at their hands. He flexed his, but didn’t pull away. “Uh, right. Makes sense.” He straightened. “So, dinner? You’ll come?”

“Of course. When were you thinking?”

He shrugged. “Tonight, tomorrow. When—Friday!” Rum shouted, tugging his hand like an electrical current had gone through them. “Come Friday.”

“Okay,” he agreed, bemused.

“Just, uh, you open later on Saturdays? And Belle does too, at the library. Friday is best.”

“Expecting a late night?”

His eyes widened, brows drawing together. “Maybe? You know, just in case.”

“I’ll bring the wine,” Gold said after a pause.

“That would be perfect.” This time when Rum smiled, it looked genuine. “It’s a date.”

OOO

He had chosen a rosé. He hadn’t asked much about what Rum was planning on serving, wanting to be surprised. And rosés paired nicely with all most things..

With one final brush down the front of his suit, he knocked on the apartment door. Seconds later it opened, revealing Belle wearing a bright dress and a brighter smile.

For a moment he was struck mute, words lost as he stared at her. She was so lovely.

“Come in, come in,” she said, not seeming to notice his state. She reached out for him, sliding her hand along his back as she guided him inside. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

The apartment was small, but cozy. The living room was big enough to accommodate a TV and a sofa, and to the left a dining table with four chairs, but not much else. Not that it kept Belle from piling books on every conceivable surface, including the floor along the walls. Gold couldn’t help but smile at that. Everything was neat and tidy, excepting the books. A perfect home, all things considered.

Rum poked his head out of the kitchen. “Hey, Glasgow,” he called. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He hadn’t been too far off when he imagined the apron. “Smells good,” he said, not having anything better to say. And it did, the heady aroma or sizzling meat and spices heavy in the air. It would seem Rum hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he was good at this.

“I hope you like it. Should be ready soon.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

Gold felt Belle’s arm tighten around him. When he looked, there was a small smile playing on her lips.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She gave him a final squeeze before letting go. She took the bottle of wine from him before walking to the table. “He wants to impress you. We both do.”

That warmed him up from the inside in a way he chose not to examine too closely right then. “That right? You cook, too?”

“God, no. But I am the master of doing dishes.”

They were interrupted by a meow, coming from the ground.

“Hello again,” he said to their roommate. “You’re looking well.” He had never gotten a good look at the cat when Rum rescued her from beneath his shop. She was a handsome creature, a long-haired tuxedo. She looked completely healed, and would have looked completely normal too, had it not been for a missing eye. The socket was closed, and almost unnoticeable if it weren’t for the brilliant blue of her other eye.

That one eye blinked up at him. She mewled again before turning around, and he expected her to stalk off. Instead, she sat on his shoes. She weighed as much as a sack of feathers.

“You can’t have him, too,” Belle said.

The cat started to purr. Apparently, she thought otherwise.

Belle shook her head. “She’s intent on stealing all the men in my life, I swear.”

Gold wasn’t sure what to say to that. “What’s her name?” He asked. That was safe.

“Oh you’ll like this,” Belle said with a conspiratorial smile. “We named her Forte, on account of her looking like a music sheet, and being quite loud when she wants to be.”

“Aye, I remember. Fortan means luck in Gaelic,” Gold offered.

“Yes! Rum was quite proud of that. He can’t usually think of puns.”

Gold shifted, lifting up a foot experimentally. Forte ignored the hint.

Fine, then.

When he looked at Belle, she was staring at him, biting her lip.

“What?”

She shook her head. “I’m happy you’re here.”

Gold managed a nod. “I’m happy I’m here, too.” He tried to flash a smile. He hoped she didn’t mistake it for a grimace.

“Good.” Her gaze was intense, scorching.

Unable to bear it, he looked down at the cat, still on his feet. Her tail brushed his legs. He heard a timer go off.

“Belle,” Rum called. “Can I have a hand?”

“Take a seat, if she’ll let you go, the little monster,” Belle said cheerfully.

“I’ll pour the wine,” he said.

She shot a smile over her shoulder, disappearing into the kitchen.

He lifted his foot again, and Forte accepted he was serious this time. She slunk over to the couch, jumping up to the cushion gracefully before plopping down.

Gold had just filled the final wine glass when Belle came back. She set a basket of dinner rolls on the table, along with a bowl of salad. “He wanted to make buttered cabbage,” Belle said. “Apparently it’s a good side dish for this in Scotland, but I put my foot down.”

“Thank God for you, Belle French.” He pulled her chair out for her, making sure she was quite settled before taking his own seat.

Rum chose that moment to appear, dish in hand. He set it proudly in the center of the table, removing the foil with a flourish. All Gold could see was a white top,even except where a fork had been run through to create a swirling effect. The peaks were a crispy, golden brown.

“Shepherd's pie,” Rum announced. “Though I couldn’t get lamb on such short notice, so it’s actually cottage pie.” He shrugged. “Still good, I hope.”

“Still good,” Gold agreed, feeling his mouth water. Sizzling ground beef, cooked with onions, peas and carrots, drenched in a rich brown gravy. Then topped with a thick layer of creamy, buttery mashed potatoes. He hadn’t had it in years.

Rum was indeed a good cook. He scraped his plate clean, full from having second helpings.

“Was there something specific you had in mind for after dinner?” Gold asked, taking a sip of wine. The bottle was empty; an easy thing to do when split between three people.

Belle and Rum shared a look. “What do you mean?” Belle asked.

“Rum mentioned a late night. I assumed that meant board games. You seem the type,” he said warmly. Gold had been looking forward to it, honestly. He hadn’t played anything of the sort since before Neal moved out. “Something tells me you’d make a worthy opponent at Scrabble,” he said to Belle.

Belle shot her husband a look, who was looking intently at his wine glass. “He told me he had lost his nerve.”

“Sorry?” His heart stopped in his chest. This wasn’t supposed to be about a deal. That’s what Rum had said.

She seemed to read the disappointment in his face. “My husband and I owe you nothing of monetary value, Gold. We have no intention of changing this.”

“All I can offer are things of monetary value.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Rum muttered, staring at the legs of wine as they cascaded down his glass.

Belle cleared her throat. “I do actually have Scrabble, somewhere. And we have a deck of cards. If you’d like, we can certainly find a game to play. But we were thinking of a group activity of a different nature,” she said, licking her lips. His eyes followed the path of her tongue, and she smiled, wide and sultry.

“Ah?” His brain short-circuited. She couldn’t be implying what he thought she was. He looked to Rum for help, but he was staring at his wine as if trying to boil it with his mind.

Belle took pity on him. “Join us for a night.”

“A night.”

She nodded.

“Of sex.”

Another nod.

“Only one?” He asked before he could stop himself.

That got Rum’s attention. His head shot up, and he put his glass down with more force than necessary, almost knocking it over. The beginnings of a crooked smile played on his lips.

“Doesnae have to be.”

“Let’s see how we like it, first,” Belle said reasonably.

Gold didn’t ask why, out of every other sorry bastard in this town, they chose him. He didn’t question their taste or their eyesight. Instead, Gold nodded. Yes, a night with them was everything he had ever wanted.

Belle swallowed the last of her wine, head thrown back as she drained her glass. Gold followed the line of her throat as she swallowed, finally feeling like he was allowed to look.

“Leave the dishes,” she said to Rum. She scooted her chair back, holding out her hands to them. “And let’s go to bed.”

OOO

From there, it was easy.

Gold followed them into their bedroom, Rum being careful to shut the door behind them so Forte couldn’t get in to interrupt. The room was just as tidy as the rest of the apartment, with stacks of books on every conceivable surface. The bed was queen size, and he liked the thought of them three of them sharing the space. He hoped they’d let him stay for a while, after.

Rum cleared his throat, drawing Gold’s attention.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, quiet, almost shy.

Gold licked his lips.

“Yes.”

Before he could blink, Rum’s hands were on either side of his face, his thumbs brushing his cheek bones before his mouth collided with his. He started sucking on his bottom lip, causing Gold to whimper. Rum’s hand slid up, brushing through his short hair while the other ran along the back of his neck before settling in the space just above his collar bone.

Gold’s own hands were clutching the sides of Rum’s baggy shirt, pulling him closer and closer. As his tongue pushed past his lips, one hand cradled his jaw, turning his head slightly so he could push inside for a deeper kiss. Rum moaned happily, trying to suck on his tongue.

When they finally broke apart for air, Belle grabbed his head, turning it so she could kiss him deeply next. He leaned into her, almost stumbling before catching himself on her shoulder. Expecting the fabric of her dress, he was met with her bare skin. Gold broke the kiss so he could see.

While Gold and Rum had been busy necking, Belle had taken the time to undress. All she wore now was her lingerie, the dark blue silk making her skin almost glow.

If Gold hadn’t been hard already, seeing her chest, her belly, her legs, would have undone him completely.

“Oh,” he breathed. He kissed her again, feeling her smile. She undid his tie, then started to unbutton his shirt, slowly leading him to the bed. Gold didn’t have his cane, he couldn’t remember where he had left it, but it didn’t matter with Belle and Rum there to guide him forward.

When he was laying down on the bed, Belle kissed him again, pushing his back into the comforter as her mouth ravaged him.

He lifted his hips so Rum could pull off his trousers, then socks, and Belle finally got him to shrug out of his shirt. She eyed his chest hungrily, like he was dessert.

Belle went for his throat then, sucking and licking the skin there. He moaned as she worked lower, nibbling across his collar bone. Gold’s hands reached for her, wanting to fill his hands with her creamy skin.

“No touching,” Belle decided, giggling as she grabbed his arms, pinning them to his sides. She lightly bit his nipple, the breath of her laugh skimming over his wet chest as he gave a jolt.

Rum kissed his hip bone, before taking off his boxers. Then he was bare and achingly hard. Now free of all his clothes, splayed on his back, there was no friction, no barrier, to keep him sane. Just consistent, blazing want.

“Rum,” he groaned as Belle continued to kiss, lick and bite his chest. “Please.”

Rum shrugged out of his own shirt, was undoing the zipper on his jeans. Gold watched them fall to the floor before he stepped out of them. His eyes came up to settle on Rum’s bulge.

“Please,” he said again, voice hoarse.

Rum made eye contact. His eyes jumped to Gold’s cock, bobbing and thick. Then his hands were on the inside of Gold’s thighs, pushing his legs apart so he could settle between them. Gold saw a flash of his pink tongue before his mouth had swallowed his cock whole.

Gold yelped, his hips jerking upwards sharply. Instead of gagging (Gold had an apology already at the ready), Rum groaned. He pulled back so he could suck the head, then swallowed him down again.

Rum moaned blissfully around him, hallowing his cheeks as he sucked. Gold whimpered, desperately trying to keep his hips still. But fuck, he was good at this. After a few minutes of bobbing on his cock, Rum swallowed, taking him deeper until he hit the back of his throat and his nose was pressed to his pubic bone.

Gold grit his teeth, not wanting to come yet. But it was hard, impossibly hard, when Rum’s mouth was so hot, so good. When Belle’s hands were skimming up and down his sides, tortiously slow.

She looked down at her husband, hungrily sucking Gold off. Her eyes were blown out completely, and she wet her lips. Almost absently, she pinched Gold’s nipple. He whined high in his throat.

“He’s so good with his mouth, isn’t he?” she said, voice low. “God, that tongue.”

Gold could only whine, and keep whining as Rum sucked harder.

“I’m there,” he tried to warn him. “Fuck, Rum, I’m—“

Rum pulled back, but he kept the head in his mouth and used his hand to wank him off. Gold came across his tongue, panting. Closing his eyes, he sunk further into the soft bed, trying to catch his breath.

“Save any for me?” He heard Belle ask.

“Sorry, love,” he said, and Gold heard a smacking of lips.

“No, you’re not.” They kissed. Belle moaned; she could taste Gold on his tongue. Fuck.

“You can have him for round two.” Rum rubbed his thighs, using them for balance as he leaned forward and gave another kiss to Gold’s hip bone.

“I’m holding you to that.”

There was the soft sound of fabric gliding against skin. Gold felt the bed shift as Belle straddled his hips, legs on either side of his thighs. He opened his eyes when Belle kissed him; she was gloriously bare. His arms wound around her shoulders, a hand burying in her hair, keeping her in place.

He expected Rum to come close, but instead he backed off. Instead, he moved behind Belle. Gold felt a wave of molten heat go through him at the thought of Belle being fucked by her husband while she lay over him, panting in his ear as she took it deep and hard.

Wanting to entice Rum, Gold ran his hands down her soft sides, over her rump. He gripped her where her arse cheeks met her leg, his pinky and ring finger over her cunt lips, and he held her open, on display. She was already so wet, he had to let go so he could get a better grip.

Belle hummed, pushing her breasts into his chest and sticking her arse up, giving her husband a better view.

“Like this, Gold?” she asked, sucking on his neck. He hoped she left a mark.

“Fuck,” Rum breathed, his eyes drawn to her open cunt. “Oh, Gold, if only you had this view.”

“Describe it to me,” Gold said.

“She’s so wet and pink. Fuck, Belle.”

Her breath caught, and she pushed her arse back. Gold guessed Rum was using his fingers on her.

“You’re so wet. Did you like that, watching us?”

“Of course.” She wiggled, spreading her legs wider, bringing her knees up as best she could. Gold spread his legs again, too, helping to keep her open. “You two look amazing together. So beautiful.”

“What else?” Gold asked. He felt fingers skim from Belle’s thighs to his. Rum cupped his balls. He gasped, feeling a thumb press into his perineum, then down to circle around his anus, before coming back up.

“And here’s you, all spent. I did that. You taste so good, Gold. I want to suck you again.”

Gold moaned as Rum pressed his soft cock against Belle’s heat. She was ready and wet and perfect.

“Fuck, I can’t wait for you to get hard.”

Belle whined, trying to get the angle right to move her clit against Gold’s pelvis. “You said I got him next.”

Rum laughed. He let go of Gold so he could run his hands over the back of Belle’s thighs. “I did. Do you want to fuck her, Gold?”

He hissed an affirmative, hands leaving imprints where they still held Belle open.

“Should we wait, Belle? Let him have you first?”

“No, God! Rum! I need it now,” she begged, wiggling. “Fuck me now.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, I’ll fuck you.” He let go, eyes turning a bit more critical so he could figure out the position. “Close your legs, Gold, so I can fit,” he ordered, softly. Gold happily acquiesced, and he watched as Rum settled behind Belle, his knees pressing into the bed in between theirs.

Slowly, he guided his cock into his wife.

Gold let go of her arse, hand moving to tip her head up, searching for her eyes. “Look at me,” he murmured, wanting to see the moment she was filled up.

Belle bit her lip in bliss. Her eyes widened slightly when Rum bottomed out. He leaned forward so he could kiss her shoulder, giving them both time to adjust to the position.

“Good?” Rum asked.

She shuddered when she pushed her hips back into his, her clit sliding along Gold’s pelvis beautifully. “Oh, that’s perfect,” she breathed, eyes locked onto his.

“I’m not going to last,” her husband warned, pulling back before fucking into her.

Belle moaned, grinding onto Gold as she leaned into her husband’s thrusting hips. “Neither will I.”

One hand in her hair, the other gripping her upper arm, Gold held his breath as he watched her. She was stunning, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes clouded over with lust.

“Are you going to come, Belle?” Gold asked her. “Does he feel good inside you? Fuck, I bet he feels so good.”

Belle could barely nod. “Deep. Hard,” she panted. “Almost there.”

Her breath caught, and she clenched hard on Rum’s cock, slamming back against him, then stilling. Her orgasm triggered his, and with a grunt, he emptied inside her, hips stuttering.

Gold pulled her down for a kiss, and she went happily, boneless and sated. Once Rum caught his breath, he pulled out, flopping down beside Gold with a sigh.

Belle tucked herself against Gold’s chest, watching her husband cool down beside them.

The silence that fell on them was easy and soft, broken only by the occasional pawing of Forte at the door.

When she mewled, Rum looked up, and it seemed like he might let her in.

“Not yet,” Belle said. “I was promised round two.”

She pushed herself up, looking down so she could see where she had been rubbing herself against Gold’s pelvis. Rum’s spend seeped out of her, slicking her way.

“Fuck,” Gold breathed, unable to tear his eyes away.

It didn’t take much longer for Gold to harden again, helped by Belle’s skillful hand. She wasted no time in mounting him. She slid all the way down his shaft. She pumped her hips, delighted at feeling him so deep.

She was so wet; so hot and wet and already filled with cum and it was a good thing Gold had climaxed once already because he wasn’t sure how he would have lasted otherwise.

As it was, he was happy to watch as Belle took him for a ride. Gold’s attention was quickly drawn to her breasts, and he watched them bounce up and down. He wanted to suckle them, feel their weight in his hands. He hadn’t paid nearly enough attention to that part of her yet.

Rum moved so his head was laying on his chest, fingers circling one of Gold’s nipples as his eyes were glued to the area Belle and him were connected. As Belle moved up and down, Rum began to kiss and nip at Gold’s pecks, then his rib cage, his abdomen. He circled his tongue inside Gold’s belly button, making his stomach clench and his hips jolt. Belle’s moving hips kept him from being able to go down any further, and he sweetly got her attention.

“Lean back a little,” he requested.

That meant she stopped moving against him, and Gold moaned in protest.

“Like this?” She was spread open again, thighs wide, hands supporting her weight where they rested on either side of Gold’s legs.

“Exactly like that.” Rum latched onto her clit and sucked. She gasped, hips bucking hard against Gold’s cock.

“Fuck, Rum,” she said, clenching.

They set up a new rhythm. Belle worked herself up and down Gold’s cock while Rum sucked at the base of him, and Gold did his best not to utterly combust. Belle ground down when she got to the bottom, and Rum’s tongue flicked up to meet her.

The closer she got to finishing, the closer she stayed, and soon all she was doing was grinding back and forth on his cock, Rum latched to her clit.

Gold’s legs spread in answer to Rum’s searching hand; he felt it close around his balls and his hips jolted in response. Fuck, but that was heaven; Belle riding his cock while Rum played with him like he was a pair of ben wa balls. He moaned, low and deep and long, when Rum tugged them down, then up against the base of him, squeezing.

His hands gripped Belle’s hips tightly as he held her against him and emptied himself into her. He couldn't even moan; she’d taken the breath straight from his lungs.

With a final but heartfelt, “fuck,” Belle clenched, thighs shaking in aftershock. Gold would forever remember the blissful smile on her face as she came on his cock.

Before she could fall over, and it looked like she might, the poor lamb—Rum was there to wrap her in his arms, and help her down. Rum pulled down the comforter with no help from them, but soon enough, they settled into bed, curled into the sheets on either side of Gold. Rum kissed his neck below his ear, entwining their legs as Belle happily murmured into his chest.

“Do you need another one?” Gold asked into Rum’s hair.

He felt the smile against his neck. “I already have everything I need.”

Gold was still boneless when he finally looked at the clock; it was late but not terribly so.

“When do you want me to leave?” He didn’t want to ask, but felt he should. Besides, he didn’t think he could manage a round three. He could barely keep his eyes open, and he felt satisfied and content in a way he hadn’t in years.

Rum mumbled something unintelligible, legs tightening around Gold’s, face pressed harder against his shoulder.

“Don’t leave,” Belle murmured, moving closer herself. She blindly tried to kiss his cheek and missed. “In the morning, Rum will make tomato on toast.”

“Oh. Okay,” he said, not needing to be convinced.

In the morning, he’d wake to Forte’s tail flicking in his face and Belle wearing his shirt, Rum still curled into his side, but for now he was content to sink into sleep.

#rcij #rumbelle fic #Rumbelle Christmas in July

37 notes · View notes

hushedhands · 4 years ago

Note

okay, I sent in my ballot a couple of days ago, but I was trying to come up with a unique and interesting prompt, lol. All I got is this: is there an idea that you wanted to explore, but is decidedly non-canon in your stories? Like an AU of your own work. Something wild. Like time travel, haha. (also I stole the idea of motivating people to vote, remind others to vote, or volunteer by providing fic previews. No one has cashed in on my offer but I tried lol)

So, the only AU I can think of for Laws of Inheritance would be if Avery lived and Maxon died. Addy’s an only child, she’s been raised abroad to keep her safe because she’s the last Schreave, and America’s been running things with the advisers in the mean time. Now Addy’s old enough to move home, but she doesn’t know anyone very well, and she’s not culturally very Illéan, but everyone’s expecting her to be Queen. Sometimes there are still rebels.

Anyway, what a bummer! So instead, I’ll tell you my The Thing with Feathers AU idea. I can’t fully write a challenge of it without giving away the ending of the actual fic (there’d even be clues about the ending in who is cast in certain roles!), but I can give you a very detailed outline. Here goes:

**The Thing with Feathers Coffee Shop AU/ Lifetime Original Christmas Movie**

- Addy is the heir to the largest coffee shop chain in the world, basically Starbucks. It’s called Schreave’s I guess.

- Addy gets caught partying with her boyfriend (Martin) by the paparazzi and Maxon realizes his socialite daughter needs Discipline. He’s like, “Adrienne, you will enroll in school in the fall and you will work part-time at the coffee shop on campus (they have a Schreave’s on campus). And Addy’s like, “I don’t need to know how to make coffee, I need to know how to manage a global brand, that’s totally different!” but she’s in too much trouble, so she has to go.

- Her little siblings are the exact same, but they get to do all the normal stuff they want. Lief can ride rollercoasters and Jamesy is in the Boy Scouts, and Maisy’s the star of her private school soccer team.

- Addy starts school and she’s surprised that she actually likes it. Her brand management classes are really practical, so she doesn’t even have to buy a textbook. Most students know she’s an heiress, but some people just think it’s funny that she has the same last name as that coffee shop chain.

- On the other hand, she’s never had to work a part-time job before, and her manager (Lenore!) is very hard on her. Addy only got the job because her dad is Mr. Starbucks (okay, Schreave’s), and Lenore makes Addy do all the lame stuff (washing machinery, carrying in shipments of milk and coffee beans) and won’t let her do any of the fun stuff (drawing on the chalkboard to advertise today’s specials, learning to make fun latte foam art).

- Then one day, a cute boy walks in. I won’t tell you his name, but he’s Addy’s future husband. He just orders his drink and leaves her a really nice tip and that’s it. Lenore makes fun of Addy for making googly eyes at him while he leaves the shop. Addy is a bazillionaire, so she will save every tip he ever gives her in a coffee can (Hello, America’s penny jar!)

- The boy comes back the next day and the next day. Addy learns his order and gets it ready for him just before he arrives, and then one day she gets bold and writes her phone number on the cardboard sleeve that covers his coffee!

- He doesn’t call her or text her all day, and she’s DYING of embarrassment because like, maybe she read him wrong and he doesn’t like her?? Now she has to see him again the next day and he ignored her! BUT

- he texts her that night and they start a cute little texting exchange, they learn about each other’s families and favorite books and tv shows, and they get to know each other through that way. He still only comes by the coffee shop to pick up his order, leave her a tip, and go. Addy draws him doodles on his coffee sleeves every time. He saves every single coffee sleeve, starting with the phone number one, and will keep them forever just like Addy keeps the tips, but Addy doesn’t know that yet!

- Addy catches Lenore studying for an exam when she’s supposed to be working, but instead of dunking on Lenore as revenge for how hard she’s been on Addy, Addy just helps her study and by the end of the night they’re cool.

- There’s a football game coming up, so Addy writes on the sleeve of Future Husband’s coffee, asking if he wants to go with her. He returns to the coffee shop that afternoon (his first time ever to make a second trip in the same day), just to give her her ticket and offer to walk with her from her dorm to the stadium that night. Their first date! The game is fun, their school wins, they go eat dinner at the diner afterwards, they kiss each other goodnight.

- They go on a few more dates after that, and Addy’s feelings are getting serious, but wait! Her dad is coming into town to give her a ride to a ski resort on the family private jet for the holidays. How will he feel if Addy tells him she’s started dating someone? Probably bad, because the last time she got in trouble it was with her ex-boyfriend! She has to keep Future Husband a secret!

- But Addy’s all lovelorn and listless, even though it’s Christmas, and she misses her cute boyfriend and her shifts at the coffee shop. She knows how to make her dad’s favorite order now which impresses him. He’s very proud of her, and impressed with how much she’s grown in her semester at school, but he can tell that she’s not happy. America notices Addy all curled up on one of those window bay seats overlooking a gorgeous ski lift, texting and sighing, and finally gets Addy to admit it. She has serious feelings for a boy, but she’s a coffee heiress and it’s complicated

- It turns out America was just a normal teenage girl from South Carolina when she met Maxon by chance! It was the first time Clarkson had ever sent Maxon out on his own to handle a negotiation. Maxon was supposed to meet with local farmers about supplying the coffee shop chain with milk and produce in that region. He also met with artists whose paintings they would feature on the coffee shop walls in that area. That’s how Maxon met Shalom, who brought America along for the meeting to help carry his sample paintings. The rest was history!

- So if Maxon could marry some painter’s daughter from the middle of nowhere in South Carolina, why couldn’t Addy date a student at her school? Addy tells her mother Future Husband’s name, and America works her magic, but Addy doesn’t know it yet.

- Addy spends Christmas eve night with her siblings, playing in the snow. They go to sleep, but all Addy wants for Christmas is Future Husband.

- The next morning, guess who’s sitting in the living room of their million-dollar ski lodge penthouse? Future Husband! America snuck his phone number from Addy’s phone and convinced Maxon to use his connections to fly Future Husband to the ski resort overnight.

- Does Addy get other rich-people things for Christmas, like diamonds and expensive laptops or something? Of course! But her real present is Future Husband, who is going to spend the rest of winter break with her, getting to know the fam. They’ll even get to spend New Year’s Eve together! The fic/movie ends with the camera zooming in on a kiss under the mistletoe between Addy and her Future Husband!

**The End**

(until the sequel when he proposes!)

#The Thing with Feathers #weavemeamyrtlecrown #DemocracyHands #Coffee Shop AU

16 notes · View notes

mintseesaw · 6 years ago

Text

Felicity

Sequel to Fierce & Delicate (link in masterlist)

Pairing: jungkook x reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, husband au

Word count: 11.6k

Warnings: mature content, implications of depression, family conflict

a/n: this is unedited :( but I hope you still enjoy it. Tbh, I wouldn't push through writing a sequel if it weren't for your feedbacks and the notes fierce & delicate has received, so much love to you all! 💕

Also, I'm not sure if reading this would make sense if you haven't read the first one haha. Let me know what you guys think. Comments and likes are much appreciated. They actually motivate me to write more ☺️

“Let’s go back to the villa,” he whispered right next to your ear tickling the sensitive skin behind the shell of your ear. The goosebumps that were there earlier because of the cold breeze and disappeared as his body covered you with his warmth automatically reappeared from your arms again.

“One more minute. I like it when we cuddle like this while watching the sea.”

Today is your last day of holiday in Maldives. And spending it like this, unproductive and with your husband in his arms...is much better than any of the outdoor activities you two have done in the past four days. You couldn’t recall when was the last you’ve had a day this cozy with him, on a holiday or not. And you wish to have more of this when you get back home.

Since you and Jungkook met, dated and got married, no one initiated for the two of you to go on a trip. It wasn’t necessarily needed, and out of respect to your husband’s situation back then, there’s no room for you to insist although you had the means to pay for one. But now, the past four days in this paradise that brought you refreshment, peace and elation to have it together with your husband, you wondered why you have not asked him during the early months of your marriage.

First day on the island was wasted on you sleeping all day, trying to gain your energy back as the flight reasonably tired you out. You were too drained to entertain Jungkook’s excitement to wander off to the beautiful scenery so you send him off and even coaxed him to bring his camera, assuring him you would be fine alone in the room. You were sleeping the whole time and only woke up when he had returned.

The next three days were spent doing all the outdoor activities that Jungkook wanted to try out. You knew your husband always has a thing for anything adventurous.. He enjoyed every bit of it, and even more when he saw you struggling to ride the air jet ski or squirming as he urged you to touch a stingray. Not that you hate animals, you’re just never really an animal person.

As much as you don’t find most the activities fun like he did, seeing your husband having the time of his life is enough reason for you to enjoy the vacation itself. Being with him in a beautiful place like this island is enough for you. It soared your heart that you’ve witnessed him with full of delight clearly present in his eyes. His laughs and smiles were genuine and almost never left his face. Something that surprises you��the intensity of his elation during this trip. It makes you wonder, have you been treating him good enough?

The outdoor activities may or may not be his favorite. You’re almost sure they are. To you, on the other hand, the consecutive nights of consummation that lasted until the wee hours of morning are most especially branded in your mind.

Earlier this morning was no exception. The rounds of steamy activities had caused you to wake up later than usual in the morning. It was almost noon when you too decided to get up.

After taking a semi-breakfast and lunch, you persuaded him to sit with you on the shore. Fortunately for the two of you, the sun was not scorching hot enough to burn yours and Jungkook’s skins although it could if you stay longer especially because you skip applying a protection for your skin. Tipping your head back to peak up above, you noticed clouds have unusually occupied the blue sky like it was about to rain. Maybe, that’s why.

Both of you were sitting in the sand, pairs of feet resting on the wet sand where the sea water consistently dances along the shore due to the waves crashing. Your back pressed comfortably against his chest as his arms lay across your stomach. Your hands clasped in between his fingers, silently communicating on their own.

“We can do so much more than cuddling if we go back to our villa,” he suggested maliciously.

Turning your head and having a view of his grinning face. Eyes narrowing, “We’ve been doing that since we came here, aren’t you sated?” It’s true. Post dinner on your first night here was when the consummation had started. Jungkook didnt stop initiating the move to score every night and every chance he get. As for you, who miss your husband so much, control seemed to escape out of your system every time Jungkook touches you tenderly. Not even when he tried his luck on a sunny day was he ever turned down.

On the third day of your holiday in Maldives, you two went on an island hopping. The supposed activity was not followed as the tourist guide, who was also the one driving the motorboat, made a stop on a specific island—it was left unexplored by the business industry As no commercial hotels or any infrastructure had been built, yet. And you were particularly mesmerized by the natural beauty of it, undeniably more breathtaking than the one where you were staying in. Jungkook asked the guide to dropped you off there and pick you both after a few hours seeing the astonished look on your features.

Your little wander on the island was the only time you genuinely enjoyed swimming in the water as it was the only moment you had outside without the possibility of being watched.

You didn’t notice how far away you’ve swam away from Jungkook that only when he started chasing you was when it finally clicked in your mind. You weren’t supposed to swim away because you didn’t know why he was chasing you in the first place, but you still did, as a reflex. He didn’t even try, because he already caught you despite your efforts to swim farther away from him. Squirming in his arms as squeals and giggles were uncontrollably coming out of your mouth, from taking you by surprise. His hold tightening around your waist, closing the distance between your bodies, his wet torso pressed flatly on your back.

You were still trying to catch your next breath from the activity when you felt his lips on your shoulder travelling further on your neck. The water reaching up from your torso didn’t prepare you for his next move as his hand disappeared through your bikini bottom, boldly palming your private part. Your supposed warning as an attempt to stop him turned into a helpless plea.

His tender caresses to the sensitive nub was so maddening that you didn’t how you got out of the water and laid flat on the sand. The roughness of the sand against your back didn’t seem to bother you one bit. You were too consumed with the fact that he was hovering you, sucking the sensitive spot on your neck, and buried deep inside you.

Jungkook didn’t even bother taking off the material that covers your lower part. He only pushed the material aside for his entrance and gave you no time to adjust to his size, pounding relentlessly as your whimpers and moans of pleasure were drowned by the sounds of the sea. He didn’t stop. Not even when you cried out by the delicious stretch of his rough intrusion, not even when you were having a hard time catching your next breath as he particularly stroke deeper, not even when your insides tightened around him as your peak was approaching you so intensely, shuddering from bliss on his arms. It was only when he growled out his release when he finally had a respite.

Although the neighbor island was not occupied by other tourists during that steamy moment, you shouldn’t have let it happened as someone may still have witnessed it. The thought of someone actually seeing you with Jungkook while doing it actually scares you.

“I can’t control it if you’re in my arms like this wearing that sexy summer dress,” he nuzzled your hair, “Fuck, and you smelled so good. How could you even do that.” Feeling his grip tightening around your waist, not too tight to suffocate you but enough to show you who you belonged to.

“You’re just insatiable, don’t even try to point the blame on me.” Your expectation over hearing another argument coming was cut short by the sound of his chuckle vibrating through his chest, feeling it resonate against your back. The sound of waves crashing through the shore almost drowned it, if not for your close proximity.

The calming sound of waves soothed the air between you and Jungkook. And you wish right there and then that you and Jungkook would always be in this state—hearts filled with only love and pure euphoria. Because right now, you will trade for anything just so you two can stay in this paradise forever. A dream far from reality.

“Jungkook,”

“Hmm?”

The salty air that meets your skin creates a soft motion to the hem of your summer dress against your thighs.Your attention suddenly directed at the material of your dress, finding a temporary entertainment, “Can we do this again in the future?”

“Going on a holiday? Of course, if that’s what makes my wife happy…”

Tilting your head through your shoulders, you pressed softly, “And we’ll utilize our shared resources, right?”

He exhaled, then spoke close to your ear, “Whatever you want, my love…” he shifted his head so his lips can touch your temple while his fingers toy your much smaller fingers in comparison to his.

“Thank you,” you murmured tenderly, eyes closing as you pucker your lips to ask for a kiss, which he granted delightfully.

Once he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. His eyes twinkling, “Anything else that my wife wants?”

You gave him a soft smile.

“I love you.”

As soon as you utter the words, his burning stare grew intensely. You drew back, shifting your head away from his intense gaze suddenly feeling shy from confessing your feelings like it’s the first time. In contrast to his dark eyes, his mouth twitched into a grin that his set of pearly white teeth came out in full view. Cupping your cheeks in his palms, pulling you into a sweet and passionate kiss not shying away from the tourists who are scattered around the shore.

Jungkook planted a soft kiss on your forehead, alluring you to his request. “Look at your skin, it’s turning red. Let’s go back inside.” You nodded in response, suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

You didn’t know what time it was when you opened your eyes, startled from your nap. Your eyes scanned through your surroundings as your vision becomes clearer, picking up the pieces of your last memory.

It was then that you sensed your whole body is covered with discomfort. Your head stinging from headache. Your eyes puffy and tender from all the crying you did all throughout the day. Your body felt heavy—that you felt restraint and couldn’t move like the usual. Adding up to that is this weird sensation swirling in your stomach, like something in it wants to come out.

You have guessed right because in a matter of seconds, a bile quickly rising from your throat as the pressure in your stomach intensifies. Although you haven’t yet make sense what’s happening, your body has already reacted on its own, dragging yourself up with small but determined steps towards the toilet despite feeling no energy left from you. As you feel the urge surfaces from your throat, your eyes brimmed with moisture when nothing seems to be coming out of your mouth. You stayed in that position, head hovering over the toilet bowl for a few seconds.

Only when your stomach has calmed down and the urge to vomit has subsided, was when you decided to sit flatly on the bathroom floor. A sudden wave of spell adding up to the physical ache that’s present in your head. Your throat burning from all the involuntary force that urged the contents of your stomach out of your system.

Why do you feel so physically horrible? It wasn’t because of what happened earlier, right? You contemplated, trying to come up for the cause of this little episode. If it were the food you had eaten—you actually barely ate anything today. Maybe it was because of that? Or it might be simply because you’re literally sick as you felt just exactly like it.

And then like you recalled, it wasn’t the first you had an urge to throw up. It was more than once, if you were not mistaken. As quick as you remembered the times that you did, recognition suddenly flickering in your mind. Is it what you think it is?

Taking birth controls doesn’t completely stop the probability of conceiving. But the chances of getting pregnant is very slim. How— you stopped dead on your tracks. Your eyes widened at the sudden realization.

It’s possible. Because you stopped taking them five months ago.

The next day you went to work earlier, Jungkook being kept in the dark of your presumption. He didn’t approve of your sudden decision, although he didn’t say it out loud. It was evident from his expression. He was subtle, asking why you’re going to work an hour than usual. He took it as a sign of your anger at him. He didn’t want to go against your way as not to make you angrier. For you, on the other hand, it isn’t the reason. You planned to buy a pregnancy test in a pharmacy and take it at work.

You bought three and made sure no one was in the restroom when you took all the kits. It was a good thing no one was there because when all of them showed the same result, you didn’t have the strength left in you to control the sounds of emotions that spilled past your throat.

With all that’s happened in the past week, the restless nights you’ve had over your husband’s suspicious actions made you even more vulnerable now that another circumstance is right in front of you. Crying numerous times since the past few days have reflected your inner turmoil. But it isn’t the same this time. You’re happy.

The tests could be giving you a false hope, but you can sense it, feel it even more that you’ve proven your assumption. And now, the thought of having a little creature inside your womb brings you a different kind of joy. The little bud is the product of Jungkook’s love to you and yours to him.

And right there and then, you made a decision. For your baby’s sake, you will forget all this and forgive your husband, who’s only doing everything for your own good.

It was never his fault you were broken in the first place. No, he completed you. He had picked up the shards of glasses of your broken youth, dreams and passion in life and brought it together with his love. If not for him, you’re not even sure if you’ll ever be happy in your life.

If there’s someone you should blame for the emotional damages inflicted in your past, it’s your parents. Perhaps, you shouldn’t, but trying to rationalize your situation, it’s anyone but him. He made a mistake. In spite of the pain that cost him to commit a mistake and inflict it to you in return, now that you’ve come to know that you’re possibly carrying his baby, you want to do this right. Facing them again could probably help you move on.

Once and for all, to see your parents again light up a little hope that it would help you move on. That maybe, this time, they would understand the path you’ve chosen for your life. Perhaps, seeing you far from a miserable life they had predicted you to have when you chose to marry Jungkook despite their objection would change their mind about him. You made up your mind, you will meet them.

“Where have you been?”

It was already dark when you got home. Although it was not that late, you quickly picked up Jungkook’s sentiment. His tone was not accusing, but out of a helpless wonder. He must have known. You didn’t exactly tell him you left work even before noon came. But by the tone of his voice and his stance gave away his restless state, thinking of the possibilities where you might have gone of to.

You didn’t answer. Not because you have no plan to, but because you couldn’t wait to tell him about the news you’ve found out and your decision to see your parents instead of giving the reply he wants to hear. However, this time is not the right time to do it. Not when all this hasn’t been settled.

“You were not at work,” he said. “I was calling you and when you were not answering my calls, I went home because I thought you’d be here.” Lowering his head, “I was so worried that I tried to look out for you. Please don’t do that again, no matter how mad you are. Just… tell me where you are. I’ll let you be, I wont bother you. Just please, tell me where you are.”

“I’m sorry,” you sincerely mumbled under your breath. It took all of your willpower not to draw yourself closer and console him so you could take away his anguish, his worries of the uncertainty.

“I-I...t-thought... I thought you left me.” He choked, as fear crossed his face. It made you feel even weaker.

“I wouldn’t do that.” You tried to assure him. “I made a mistake.” Sadness clouded his features, almost afraid to return your calculating gaze at him.

“I know, but it didn’t change my feelings towards you. We’ve been through worse and I’m still here, because I want to be with you.” Your toned wasn’t so comforting and soft like it used to. But it was only your coping mechanism not to cry in front of him. Somehow, you didn’t want him to show your vulnerability.

He took what he could get from you. Even by means of getting a taste of your cold facade, not letting him read your mind through your eyes. At least you were still talking to him. He expected so much worse than this.

Days passed and the household remained unusually quiet. Your cold treatment towards Jungkook scares him, that any time, you would grow tired of this setting.

He wouldn’t let it happen. You’re not going to slip away from him. Although he was patiently waiting for you to come around, he couldn’t help the ache surfacing from his chest as his presence remains invisible to you. He was unable to have a normal conversation with you, he couldn’t kiss you when he wants to express his affection like how he frequently does. His heart constricted every time you avoided his eyes, and every time you take the chance to avoid his presence. Yet, he’s in relief that you don’t try to get away from him every night. At dinner. It was the only time he’s able to see to be with longer even though your at arms length.

It was also during a dinner with him that you chose to tell him about your plan. He was trying to initiate a conversation, like what he’s been doing for the past few days. But your pregnancy was consuming all your energy that you just want to sleep after work or even at post meals. You missed your husband so much. You rarely get to see him every day as you tried to put your distance from him. Most of the time, you feel so sick, especially every morning and you didnt want to give him a clue of your state as you planned to reveal it to him when you come back. Perhaps, to surprise him.

When he stopped talking, you looked up from your food, barely touched. You realized he didn’t stop, he was waiting for your reply.

“It’s fine. Thank you for the dinner. I’m not that hungry, I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright. I was thinking you probably don’t like it. I can prepare something else, next time. Or we can have your favorites— ramen and rice cake for tomorrow? I recall you haven't had them lately.” A smile plastered on his face. You’re not sure if it was sincere because you know he’s hurt just as much as you are.

You gulped down the lump that was forming in your throat. Nodding your head, not trusting your own voice to speak without giving him a hint of your emotions.

You cleared your throat, “Listen,” Jungkook immediately fixed his eyes on you when he heard the raspiness of your voice and for the past few days, it felt like it is the first time you actually let him have an eye contact with him.

“I filed for a leave—“

His smile was immediately replaced by panic, it was evident through his features.

“Why? Where are you going? Are you— a-are y-you leaving?”

“I’ll be gone for a few days.” You confirmed, pursing your lips.

“It’s because of what I did.” He stated more to himself than to you. A sad smile forming on his face.

A sigh went past your lips. Your eyes looking everywhere but on him. He took your silence as a confirmation.

“You’re coming back, right?” He asked, needing an assurance to let his mind at peace. You’re not leaving him, permanently.

“Yes. I’m not leaving you, Jungkook, please remember that.”

“Why are you leaving?” Your heart constricted at the sight of his shattered look. You almost pleaded him to stop asking, because his thoughts—they are not true. Leaving him is something you will never do under any circumstances.

“I need to do this.”

“If—if you hate my presence, I should be the one leaving—“

“No! It’s not because of that…”

Then why are you leaving? He repeated in his mind. But he remained silent, too broken to form a reply. And you took it as an opportunity yo continue, “I’m going to see my parents.”

This time, he stood up drawing his body close to where you sit, following his movement until you were craning your neck just so you can clearly see his face.

“You don’t have to see them...You don’t have to leave. If it means seeing them, I’ll give you the space, I’ll leave the apartment.”

“Jungkook, it’s my own decision. You are not leaving because I don’t need space.”

“Then I’ll come with you.” He attempted, despite knowing he cannot influence your decision anymore but hoping, at least, you would allow him to.

Although he does not intimidate you, there’s something about his height that take away your pretense of a strength. He certainly does not scare you. It must be his powerful aura, that despite letting you be in-charge most of the time, there’s no lying he has the upper hand to this marriage. That he could sway you through submission if he ever tries to. This time was no exception, only that you’re struggling so hard not to give in. So you stood up, despite having no match with his built to prove that you can stick to your own decision.

“I don’t want them to hurt you-“

He frowns before cutting you off, “They’re not violent, YN.”

“They did it before, you were emotionally harmed because of them. What makes you think they wont do it again? Let me see them alone,” You were not meant to burst out, and you regretted it the moment you witness under your peer when he took a small step back. You sighed, realizing that you shouldn’t let this go anywhere near a fight, “Please…”

“Why do you want to see them? Is it because of what I did?”

“Yes, but it’s not what you think. I’ll try to reconcile with them for…” you stopped mid-sentence, blinking.

The frown present on his face falling deeper into a confusion when you fail to finish your statement. Is there something else he doesn’t know? “For what?”

Your eyes snapped shut for a second, before answering, “Give me a few days to fix this. I’ll be okay, and I’m coming back home.”

“You don’t have to go.” Jungkook mumbled, in an attempt to change your mind despite reading your eyes. You’re determined and there’s nothing he could do for now to bend your decision especially when he’s trying to make it up to you.

Your close proximity with Jungkook allowed you to reach for his muscled arm. His eyes grew wide at your sudden contact with him. “It’s not your fault.”

“Do you really need to leave?” Voice wavering from the pain filling in his heart with the thought of not having your presence for days.

His body reacted on its own before it even registered in his mind, closing the distance in between the two of you. He was expecting the worse when he came to realize what he did, that you will drew back from his touch. His heart quicken its beat as you stayed in his arms, finding temporary comfort through your submission.

He lowered his head, nuzzling your hair through his nose. He missed your scent. “I’ll be here when you come back.”

You were gone even before Jungkook wakes up. It’s clear that he didn’t want to let you go. And letting him see you leave the apartment under his watch would be too hard for you and for him. So you decided to leave even before he wakes up.

Hours later after the train that you’ve boarded on left Seoul, you arrived to the city where you’ve spent most of you life with. The first thing from you mental itinerary is to meet your parents.

You already called your mother, beforehand. When you opened up about your desire to see them, she initially offered their home. However, you didnt give her an answer. Because knowing her, she’ll only persuade you to stay longer than you intend to especially since she is aware Jungkook is not going with you. Good thing though, she was coaxed to decide for the place of the meet up. She sounded so delighted over the phone, having in mind that your initiation to talk to them could possibly mean a reconciliation with them.

And of course, your mother will choose a luxurious place. Not that you were surprise though.

When you got inside the restaurant, a staff escorted you to the receptionist, where you gave her the reservation’s name which is your mother’s. The staff maneuvered you to table while formally mentioning that she is already on the table waiting only a minute before you actually got here. You didn't know where the male staff is taking you as you let him lead the way. But the moment you spot a familiar figure, her back facing your direction sitting on a table placed on the far end corner of the VIP area, you already knew where you’re going. From your direction, you could clearly make out her hair curled in perfect waves. And just by the mere sight of her figure, one could mistaken her as a lady in her early thirties.

You were right. Because when she casually turned and fixated her eyes on you, it proved your affirmation seeing how she barely aged after two years without a proper contact with her. Not only that she look youthful compared to her actual age, she could be likened to you as her sister more than a parent.

“My darling!” She exclaimed, gathering me close to her so she could plant kisses on both of your cheeks. Her face in heavy make-up, yet it it only accentuated her features, making her more astonishing in sight. As your eyes unconsciously skimmed her body, you noticed her fashion style didn’t change a single bit. She never wears anything except dresses from high-end brands. A pair of diamonds decorated on her ears, golds on her wrist and ring finger and what seems to be a million dollar worth necklace clinging to her neck. She’s, no doubt, a wife of a tycoon—regal, beautiful and expensive. Perhaps, it’s from her where you inherited your fine features.

“Mother.” You greeted her curtly as you two took your seats. A smile plastered on her face as she instructed something to the waiter while taking a glimpse of the menu. You guessed she was already ordering for the two of you.

Nothing much has changed.

When she seems to be done ordering almost half of the menu with the amount of time she consumed, she waved off her hand to the waiter signalling him to leave you two alone.

“It’s been long, my dear.” Similar to what you just did, you saw her eyes traveled up and down your visible length.

“I know.”

“How are you my dear? I haven’t seen you since you got married...” Her smile slightly fading as she intentionally left her statement incomplete. You’re sure it meant something the way she let it linger. However, it’s too soon speak out your thoughts especially if they intend to contradict hers, you want to make this work in your favor.

Clearing your throat, you straightened your back as you showed concern to your father’s absence. “Where’s dad?”

“My apologies, your father can’t make it. He’s abroad for business.You didn’t answer me, dear.”

Nodding your head since you are aware he’s never not busy so it doesn’t even surprise you.

“I’m doing fine, and I’m happy if that’s what you’re worrying about. I have an amazing husband who sees to my well being.”

“My child, I thought you’d want to ask for forgiveness for defying us. Otherwise, I don’t see the point of this meet up.”

You froze, what did you just hear? Your hand on your lap suddenly clenching into a fist out of her sight.

Shock crossed to your face. You couldn’t believe what you’re hearing from your mother. You had a tiny hope in you that they would change. And now, you don’t know anymore. Perhaps, Jungkook is right. You shouldn’t have made a move to do this in the first place.

“Mom…you’re not serious.” It took so much of your will power to keep a straight face when all your anger towards your parents is slowly resurfacing.

“I see, you’re not financially struggling. I’m sure it’s you who helped him find a decent job, anyway.”

“What are you talking about, mother? Jungkook was accepted because he deserves to get the job—”

Her eyebrows lifted, shrugging as if she didn’t buy what I said. You watched her more intently and then something clicks. They knew how you’re doing all along?

“You had us followed, haven’t you? Perhaps, investigated if you’re more desperate.” A bitter smile forming in your mouth. You’re not prepared for anything like this.

And your cruel mother didn’t even try to deny it.

“We want to know if he can take care of you. That kid even had part time jobs? His present job isn’t enough, is it?”

“That’s enough, mom. Don’t mock my husband. Stop your men from following us. If you want to know how I’m doing, I’ll gladly provide the details, myself.”

She shrugged her shoulders, lips pursed and warily observing you through her perfectly groomed eyelashes.

You were about to speak again when the waiter appeared, serving wine and then the main courses.

You took the opportunity to continue when the waiter left.

“I would’ve married your best candidate if I love him, you know.”

“Love is not everything, dear, you're living in a fantasy.”

“Would you have accepted Jungkook as my husband if he’s rich like Namjoon?” She didn’t answer, and took a sip from her glass instead, “Actually, it doesn’t matter anymore because you’d still force me to marry a stranger, right?”

“Namjoon is a good man—“

“Im not referring to his personality, mother. The fact that you want me to marry off with someone without my consent, I couldn’t grasp the thought of my own parents letting me live in an emotionless, miserable life.”

“Your father and I were a product of arranged marriage—“

“Don’t I know that? You fed me with that fact all my life.” You refrain from moving, as you watch her direct her narrowed her eyes on you.

“Careful YN, I don’t like your tone.”

“What? You want me to apologize? I wouldn’t. And certainly, I wouldn’t apologize for choosing Jungkook over my parents.”

“How dare you!“ She stood up from her seat, eyes widening in complete fury.

“You really didn’t know? Not even have a clue how the consequences of ruling my life did to me? You still believe you’re the perfect parents for raising me the way you did?”

“I’m telling you to stop, YN. Don’t make a scene here.” She gritted, warily scanning the room with fear of others possibly hearing your words. Mortifying.

“I had hoped that the past years have made you change your ways of how you see me. How treating me as a daughter would change to letting me live and respecting my decisions. But now that I’ve spoken to you, I realized I made the right decision of not allowing my husband to come with me.”

“This is how you repay us after all what we’ve done for you?! You still chose that kid?! That kid who used to work at cheap clubs and grew up in a rubbish community? For all we know he only married you for money. Getting involved with someone like him is unacceptable to this family. You’re a disgrace.” She hissed, her sharp eyes turning darker as if she wanted to hurt me from her mere eyes.

“You can call me whatever you want, mother. But you have no right!” Your voice suddenly raising from your calmed tone that your mother’s eyes grew wide in utter surprise because you’ve never raised your voice to your parents, “no right to insult my husband.”

“YN!” She exclaimed in disbelief.

“I respected you and dad so much despite everything what you did to me. If you can’t accept him as my husband then just respect him as a person. He doesn’t deserve any of your judgment and disgusting treatment. Do you know why I asked to see you? Because I want to forgive you and tell you how happy I am living with the life I wanted.”

“We wanted the best for you and you never deserve to be with someone like him.” Cautiously taking a sit. Your mother may be right, you were not taught to disrespect anyone especially your parents. Defending your husband doesn’t count as disrespecting them when all they’ve done is treat him less than how I human should be treated. Especially if Jungkook is here, he would never try to defend himself against your parents.

“The best for me? I used to see a psychiatrist, mother, all because I was mentally unstable. Is that what you want for me? To seek for medical help because my parents did the right thing? Or...tell me, is it my fault that I became emotionally horrible living with my dear parents? Is it my fault I became desperate to follow my own dreams without you trying to manipulate my life? You should’ve been the first person to feel how your own daughter feels. How treating me as a pawn more than your own child could ruin me. Jungkook is the one who saved me from you.”

For the first time in your life, you saw her slowly cowering back. Were your eyes deceiving you? They must be. Because your mother always has her chin up whatever the circumstances are. She remained silent. And you wish you can read her mind so you know if her softening features are genuine or only for a show.

“We didn’t know that you’ve been through that because you didn’t tell us.” Her hand clutching her hand bag so tightly didn’t go unnoticed to you.

“You never listen to me, how could I tell you? I always try but you listen to everyone. But me.” Is that guilt you’re seeing on her face? You must be imagining things. It would never happen. You continued to speak as she didn’t dare respond yet again.

“You didn’t deserve my forgiveness, but I’m giving you that so I can move on. For my peace, and for my baby’s sake.”

You need to leave now because this is already going near what you’ve purposely anticipated for. Quickly standing up from the chair. And before you turn your back to her, you caught a glimpse of her expression for the last time. Shock.

“What do you mean? YN? Are you pregnant?”

You didn’t answer her, you didn’t turn back to her despite hearing her frantic calls of your name as you walked straight out of the restaurant.

You called for a cab right after you exited from the establishment even though you’re not sure where you’re going. You told the driver to drive around as you let your emotions calm down. Unconsciously drying off your face from the tears that spilled from your eyes as you dialed Jungkook even before your mind has registered what you just did.

You slightly panicked and you’re ready to end the dialing when you heard his voice.

“YN? Hey...how’s the journey? Are you okay?”

You quietly swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to dissipate the raspiness of your voice. You shouldn’t have called him while you’re emotionally vulnerable. He could easily sense it

“Hi… don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“YN? Are you crying? Are you sure you’re okay? You met your parents, didn’t you?” You heard a shuffling in the background, and now you’re wonder what he’s doing before he answered the call. It’s still within work hours.

“I did.” Referring the talk you just with your mother. He quickly picked up what you mean.

“It went bad?”

Silence.

Then you sighed before speaking up, “I did the right thing,” defending you from her, you silently thought.

“Please stop crying, I wish I insisted to go there with you.”

Although you couldn’t see him, his face flashed before your eyes. The tone of his voice giving away his sulky expression.

“No, I’m fine.” It’s true, even though you’re emotional. The talk went horrible in contradiction to what you actually expected. But it felt good to finally let, at least, your mother know what you’ve been through without inhibitions. She could just shrugged it off, for all you care. It doesn’t matter anymore.

The conflict may have not been resolved and you’re nowhere near giving them the forgiveness, but it made you accept where your priorities in life lie now. And for one, it’s moving forward with Jungkook and your baby.

“When will you come home?”

“In a few days.”

“Please, hurry. I miss you so much.”

As you watched the changing view from the window, you whispered softly, “Okay. I miss you too, Jungkook. I have to go.”

After the ride, you were dropped off to the busy streets of the city where you instructed the driver to. You use your idle time to wander off the familiar places you used to go to. You also didn’t forget to visit the libraries and read some random books to help ease your mind from so much worries. It did. Spending days alone allowed you to think clearly although you’ve gone bored most of the time. Somehow, it became a form of refreshment and a little soul-searching going in the nostalgic place despite growing up here. This place had only witnessed your complicated past that tinted your soul and didn’t cause any of it.

Three days later, you went back home. Jungkook was asleep on the couch when you got inside, the TV is on like he fell asleep while watching some show. He was still wearing his dress shirt, tie nowhere around his neck. Did he eat already?

You missed him so much. It was only three days without seeing him. But being away from him made you realized how much his presence means to you even though you two had been talking while you were away.

Brushing his bangs away from his eyes, your face neared close to his, giving him a small peck on his cheek. The gentle movement made him startle a bit and making you jumped back in return for waking him up too soon.

His eyes fluttered open. His eyes growing the size of a saucer when it was you he laid eyes on, not expecting to see you although he was waiting for you with full of hope you will be here tonight. So it brought him too much raw happiness that you finally came home to him.

“I missed you,” you purred against his lips as he continued to plant small kisses on your lips, showing you how much he feels the same way.

“Jungkook,” calling him so sweetly. How he longed to hear your voice in flesh. Talking to you through the phone is nothing compared to hearing your voice here in front of him. It does nothing but made him miss you more and intensifies his desire to touch you, kiss you, and make love to you.

He hummed in reply, daze enough to make out a word.

“Can we use your vacation leave now?”

That’s how you two ended up here. That night, you have packed your things. Jungkook did the same. The next day, you arranged your flight which was set on the same day at night.

Nothing productive happened after going back in your villa aside from cozily resting on the sofa, a random television show playing in the background which you don’t even pay attention with. Your attention divided into his head resting on your lap and his animated recollection of what has happened in the past four days in this beautiful paradise. He really had a great time during this vacation. Is this his first time going on a trip out of the country? When you were still dating him, you learned that he rarely allows himself for recreational activities aside from hanging out with his friends. And it pains you to even think he never let himself had a great time for himself because he was too busy taking care of his family.

You didn’t dare ask about it because you didn’t want to spoil his happiness. Seeing him in a state of pure elation warms your heart.

Later that night, you took a shower as Jungkook prepared a private dinner outside. An hour and a half later, a light make up adorned your face, hair left untouched after it was blow-dried letting your locks fall in natural waves. Halfway through putting on a lipstick, you saw Jungkook appeared on the bathroom’s doorway through the mirror. He was wearing a striped short sleeve button down top, a pair of tailored shorts and a pair of white sneakers. His outfit made him look youthful more than a married man. So attractive and beautiful. Lucky for you, no one will see your husband in this attire or else you don’t know if you will enjoy the dinner knowing that women will feast their eyes on your husband.

His shoulder leaning on the door frame, as his eyes feed with the view. When he looked back up from scanning your body, he was met with your gaze.

“Your back is showing.” He commented as if the fact is not noticeable.

An eyebrow was lifted and he saw it through your reflection in the mirror, waiting for another statement to make his implication much clearer.

“It’s windy outside…” he trailed, sizing up the look on your face which silently tells him to go on.

“I know that.” You simply replied.

You heard him sighed as you make your final touches, dusting a highlighter on your cheeks before turning to face him.

“You don’t like my dress?”

“You look beautiful as always.” Dipping his head so he could nuzzle your hair. He was avoiding your stare.

“But my dress...” Tilting your head to the side, searching for his expressive pair of eyes.

“It looks good on you, baby, so much, men will surely ogle on the mere sight.” He admitted almost too painfully. You drew back from his arms.

“I’m not changing.” You declared with finality.

“I know Jagi, and you’ll be the death of me.”

You tiptoed with your gladiators on to give him a chaste kiss. He was quick to catch your waist, turning the kiss into a little make-out session.

It was you who pulled away. Or else you’re not going anywhere near the door of the room.

Jungkook requested for a private dinner from the hotel. You planned to give your anniversary gift to him around this time, so you asked the waiter who will be serving you two tonight to keep it so Jungkook wouldn’t have a clue about it, hence the purpose of surprising him.

Walking hand in hand, letting him tug you softly wherever he’s taking you. As you walk, you pass by the perfectly aligned cottages. You noticed there weren’t that much of tourists outside. Perhaps, the lack of live activities in the island during the night forced most of them to just stay in their villas.

Although you were slightly shivering from the cold breeze, it was not enough to slow you down from your pace. The journey took longer than expected. You thought the table you’re occupying for the dinner would be close to your villa. Jungkook muttered something which you failed to hear clearly as the sounds of crashing waves were far louder than his voice. When someone who was wearing a familiar uniform of the hotel employees approached the two of you, you guessed that the lone cottage not far from where you both stood is the one you’re going to occupy.

The male staff greeted the two of you and noticed he has a good American English accent. You politely smiled then followed him suit as he maneuvered you and Jungkook to the cottage. Even from afar and the dim light that the post lamp near it have provided, you could make out the differences of it from the ones you’ve seen earlier. It was specially decorated.

You guessed right. Because when you went closer to it, you couldn’t help yourself but admire the beautiful setup. You thought Jungkook would only take you on a simple dinner, although he mentioned it being a little private. You tug his hand in an attempt to get his attention as he was giving instructions to another staff. It was the one you asked to keep your gift so Jungkook wouldn’t have an idea about it as he has no idea you prepared a present for him.

He grins when he saw the look on your face, evidently showing how surprised you are.

“Do you like it?”

“You didn’t mention it’s a candlelit dinner.”

“That’s the whole point of a surprise.” The smile plastered on his face tells you there‘s something else you’re not aware of.

“What else did you prepare for this dinner that I don' know about?” Peering curiously at him. Jungkook didn’t have the chance to reply as the waiter coaxed you towards the table.

“Mr. Jeon, Mrs. Jeon, please do take your seats.” Jungkook nodded to the waiter and gently drag you to the flower decorated cottage. As you neared the table, your eyes caught the red petals beautifully scattered on the center of the table around the lavender scented candle.

Jungkook pulled the intricately designed metal chair for you. It was then that you noticed a single rose lying on the round, empty plate. You took it and drew it close to your nose so you can smell it properly.

“Thank you,” softly whispered. When you had taken a sit, Jungkook made a half turn to occupy the chair across mine.

The waiter then started serving the courses. Your eyes quickly traveled to his when you realized they were serving an Italian menu. It’s your favorite. Before you even had the chance to speak your thoughts, a soft, romantic melody suddenly plays. Your head going sideways trying to locate where the sound is coming from. The faint sound of the crashing waves drowning from the music that lingers sweetly in your ears. He didn’t leave your gaze. He grins seeing that you’re struggling to form a statement as your mouth was left ajar. You didn’t expect that he would do it anything special.

Still in daze of his effort to pull a special dinner, you whispered softly, “You did all of this…” It wasn’t a question, because he really did.

“Happy anniversary, Jagi.” He purred softly. Even with the dim light, you can see his eyes twinkling from adoration. “We’ve been celebrating our anniversaries for years and we’ve never done this before. I want to make this one memorable for you.”

“You didn’t have to...but—thank you. I-I...I don’t know what to say, I’m not expecting anything like this because being with you is enough for me.”

His hand reached out to yours, kissing your knuckles and the wedding band worn on your ring finger.

“Anything for you.” Your heartfelt interaction was cut short when the waiter came back with the wine, pouring to each of the wine glass. Muttering a ‘thanks’ when he finishes, leaving the two of you alone, again.

The two of you started eating. You mentally reminded yourself not to eat too much so you wouldn’t feel sick after the meal, especially now that you’re aware it’s a full course meal.

The primo was already served, and although the palletto is mouth watering, you didn’t finish half of it in discretion. Jungkook didn’t seem to notice it, because you already asked the waiter for the second course.

“How is it?”

“It’s good, and it tastes just like the ones I’ve had in italian restaurants.” You were referring to the Filletto al pepe.

“The chef must be good to be able to cook authentic Italian cuisines.”

He smile shyly. “Actually, he’s an Italian.”

“Oh. So, that’s why.”

Like the first one, you ate half of the portion of the second course. You’re on the fourth one when he noticed your wine was left untouched.

He lifted his eyebrow in question, “You don’t like the merlot? I thought that’s your favorite kind?”

“It is. I just felt like not having an alcohol tonight.”

“What do you want then? I’ll ask the waiter for something else.”

“Just...water, please.” He stared at you for a few seconds, before asking you again, unconvinced.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

During this time, you two were able to talk about a lot of things. And sometimes, he just stares at you lovingly while listening to you talk endlessly. It was several minutes after finishing the courses when he stood up and laid out his hand in front of you. He didn’t even speak but you knew what he was asking for. He wants to take you on a slow dance. The intensity of his gaze almost melts your heart as you took his hand and then he gathered you in his arms. Hands clasped over his nape, his around your waist. His hold on you allowed him to sway not only his body but yours as well to the soft melody.

Not long after, you slightly pushed him away. It’s time to give him your present. His eyebrows forming a line from your sudden withdrawal.

“I have something for you.”

“You do? You didn’t bring anything when we went out though...”

Instead of replying, you turned around to seek for the waiter, when you spotted him, your hand made a gesture to easily give off a signal for him to take out the box you’ve asked for him to keep.

When you turned back around to face Jungkook, his face was scrunched up in full confusion.

“What was that? What did you tell him?”

“The present. He kept it so you wouldn’t know.”

His eyes were wider than usual, still comprehending what you just did. In no time, the waiter came back with the box decorated with a ribbon on top.

You thanked him as he passed it to you.

You pushed the box forward towards Jungkook and whispered softly, “Happy anniversary, my love.”

His eyes going back and forth to you and box as he took it. It was the size of a shoe box and he was wondering what stuff could the box contain.

“Open it,” you encourages as he seemed to be thinking critically what you got for him than actually seeing it for himself.

He slowly untie the ribbon and pulled the cover to reveal its content. He fell even more confuse as he only saw strips of colorful papers that filled the box full. He scurried his fingers through it like he was on a hunt, determined to find the real gift. When he couldn’t seemed to find it, he slightly tipped the box, discarding the strips away. On the last few fistful strips, he saw a small, rectangular, white object. His eyebrows formed a straight line, trying to think the relevance of this tiny stick to be considered an object for a present.

It was then he took it in between his fingers and scrutinize it closely that it finally dawned him. His mouth dropped open.

He snapped his head so hard in your direction from utter shock trying to get a confirmation.

“Is it… is this true, YN? You’re pregnant?” You could see his eyes welling up.

You nodded a few times, “Yes.” You replied lowly. But he heard you, and the moment he did, he pulled you in a deep kiss. His hands were travelling everywhere he could touch you, your hair, your face your arms and then he palmed both your cheeks to kiss you again. He was over the moon. He didn’t know how to handle it, and the only way he could express it so sweetly is through his kisses.

Planting a soft peck on your forehead, finally freeing your swollen lips from his. His arms pulling you closer against his body like he was protecting you. Perhaps, from the cold.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” He dazed, dipping his head on your head to plant multiple kisses all over. “Tell me it’s true, that I’m not dreaming.”

“It is, Jungkook. We’re pregnant.”

Once again, he captured your lips. And you’re not aware how long he was kissing you, but by the time that he pulled away, you took in his dark hooded eyes and felt a hard pressure on your stomach. He is hard.

Just like the other days, you didn’t stop him from his advances even if you two were still technically outside. He was squeezing your butt cheek while dominating your mouth. His tongue long entered your mouth to have a taste. You were left panting when he lowered his mouth, aiming for your jaw, your shoulder and then your neck, the spot where he chose to suck the skin. It was maddening and you’re already losing your sanity. You didn’t have any sip of the wine but you felt just as intoxicated as what an alcoholic drink can do to you after having glasses of it. Perhaps, you really are. Only from your husband’s kisses and desirous touches.

As a matter of fact, you’re not aware how and when you ended up in your villa. Your aching desire clouding your mind that you probably lost your mind to keep track of what’s happening. If it weren’t for him dragging you towards the privacy of your rented room with your body going along wherever he leads you, you wouldn’t have been in your right mind to process your way to the villa.

The moment he pulled you inside, and closed the door behind you, it was like his patience suddenly ran out as he pressed you against the wooden surface, covered your cheeks with his palms then crashed your lips in a searing kiss. His grip let him dominate the kiss and you were not complaining about it. In fact, it turns you on even more when he takes the lead, controlling your needs, teasing you, taking you over the edge, and more.

His lips left yours and you let out a sound of whine, disappointed by the lack of attention from his lips. His name was on the tip of your tongue, about to call him when you felt his lips trailed wet kisses through your jaw down to your neck on your sweet spot.

Your hands find their way to his hair, gripping his locks between your fingers as an outlet to let your desire speak for you aside from the sweet mewls that were coming out of you.

“Jungkook,” you whimpered just as he not so gently sucks your sensitive skin that you felt a faint burning sensation. He knew what he was doing for his tongue started tracing his mark. It didn’t help ease your discomfort over the prolonging desire you want him to aid. In fact, it only intensifies your need like a sprinkle of water through a burning flame.

His lips went farther down your naked shoulder, easing off the strap not wanting a single barrier going on his way. His hand travelling from your waist towards your clothed mound. The only layer covering your breasts is the cotton dress you were wearing and he used it as an advantage, baring your other breast for his eyes and mouth to feast. Dipping his head, his tongue flicked your peak, sending a tingling sensation down where you ache the most. Your fingers tightening their hold through his hair.

“Jungkook please,” you were growing more and more irritated. You want him now.

He was quick to tend to you, kissing your lips, hands cupping your face. “What do you want, baby?” Brushing his lips against yours, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“I want you!”

His dark eyes stared at you, fighting back the urge to smirk at your needy state.

“We won’t hurt our baby, right?” connecting his forehead against yours, kissing your nose as if to help ease your panting.

You shook your head, not trusting your voice to speak. You craned your head up to press your lips to his.

And then you suddenly felt his hands found their way on the back of your thighs, pressing his palms against your clothed skin to urge you to jump on his arms. You did and wrapped your legs around his waist and knotted your arms over his nape. No one dared break the contact on your entwined lips as he expertly maneuvered his way through the bedroom. Your elevated position allowed you to dominate his lips, and it gave you the sudden confidence to push your tongue inside his mouth. It didn’t take long for he placed you on the mattress. You cried out of the sudden lost of contact to his lips. Your sexually deprived state draining your energy and left you with a thread-like strength that you failed to pull him closer.

How does he even have so much control in him? There’s no doubting that he doesn’t want you as much as you do to him because you can see it in his eyes. Dark and burning with desire. His lower lip in between his teeth as he unbuttoned his top, his eyes never leaving yours. You could almost make out an amusement playing on his features even though he wears no expression, like he’s enjoying your frustration. You impatiently watch him unbutton his tailored shorts, the constraint of his hard member creating an evident bulge on his front. And now that he’s left almost naked with his boxers on, it became too painful to look at the evidence of his desire without having any contact from him.

He must have decided to end your misery because he started climbing on the bed, crawling his way over you and parting your legs so he could rest his body on your middle. The moment he did, you reached out, cupping his face to crash your lips on his. It was then you felt his hard member, pressing so painfully against your abdomen that you could feel your core aching and leaking from the intensity of your need. Your whimpering sounds being swallowed against Jungkook’s mouth.

“Help me undress you, baby.” You did just as what he told you to. Desperate to feel him, anything to relieve the throb on your center.

“Up,” he instructed hoarsely, arching your back so he can remove your dress over your head.

“Beautiful.” His eyes scanning through your naked torso. Admiration and lust evident on his face as he feasted the view.

“Jungkook,” pulling his arm, “I want you, now.” your demand came out as a helpless plea.

“I know, baby.” he chuckled, although his face was dark with desire.

Pushing your hips up so you can rub your center against his bulge. Your body slightly trembling from the delicious contact.

His hand snuck in between your bodies, aiming for where you want him to touch the most. He pushed your panties aside, discovering how much you want him.

“Fuck,”

A loud moan emitted past your lips when his thumb flicked your clit. Another finger experimentally slid inside you. The simple ministration almost made you lose your mind. And no later than a second, the pressure stopped that you couldn’t help but to let out a cry from so much frustration.

Jungkook pinned your waist flat against the bed, the little distance between your bodies allowed him to pull your underwear down to your legs past your feet. Then his fingers hooked his boxers down until it reached his thighs to free his hard and swollen member, and glistening with arousal. He’s so huge that a sight of him alone made you clench your insides so hard out of too much need.

He rubbed his veiny length up and down before pushing your knees up a bit so he could have a better angle.

Aligning his steel hard length on your entrance, you bit your lip in anticipation. Your eyes met his when you tilted your head up. All this time, his eyes were on you. You were so focused on his hard length that you didn’t notice he was watching you all along. He chose that moment to thrust his hip roughly and you heard him curse under his breath. Your eyes clenched shut, crying out from the forceful intrusion. It should have hurt you for he’s huge and you can only take so much of him. But the evidence of your desire allowed his length to slide in easily, stretching you to the extremes, and relieving the ache of your prolonged desire that pain felt so surprisingly good through your sensitive muscles inside. Tears spilling from your eyes. He was quick to wipe them off. Kissing your lips tenderly and murmuring an apology.

“No. More please,” urging him to move.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please...Jung— Oh!“ halfway through pleading through his name, he started thrusting in and out of you that a series of delicious moans started pouring from your mouth. The pace was not too fast, but not too painfully slow.

He caught your lips, holding your chin in place. “Is this okay, baby? You’re not hurt?”

“Jungkook, more…” Ignoring his question as you seemed to be so focused on the delicious stroking of his member inside you, wanting more than what he’s offering.

Submitting to your plea, his thrusts quickened. Lifting the back of your thighs a little bit so he could go deeper. The same position allowed him to touch a sensitive spot several times. In and out. Until you could feel the impending snap of the knot tied by a thousand strands of your pleasure.

“Oh, Jungkook!” His name falling out deliriously on your mouth repeatedly like it was the only thing that mattered. The sounds you were emitting seemed to intensify his pleasure of being inside you that it urge him to go even faster, deeper. And the longer he does, the louder you get, screaming only his name and nothing else.

You can feel it, you’re close.

A growl rumbles out of his chest when you squeezes him so tight that he could taste his own orgasm. When he particularly stroke a sensitive spot where a thousand nerves are located which can trigger your orgasm, once, twice… and with the third stroke that you finally felt the twisting of your stomach, waves of pleasure hitting every core of your being. Your mind losing its own consciousness, vision blurring as the world has gone mute for a few seconds. Screaming his name one last time as you arched your back, wrapping your arms over his back tightly, needing his embrace as you ride out your high. He continued hammering his hard length inside you, prolonging your orgasm and chasing his own. Your eyes moistened from the overstimulation, almost painful, yet pleasurable enough to let him jar you over and over until you were writhing beneath him, coaxing his release to hit him sooner. It worked.

You heard him growled your name as you felt him stiffen beneath you, an indication of his approaching peak. The moment it did, he attacked your lips, muffling his own sounds of pleasure. He doesn’t like you hearing his moans because he thinks they are unmanly. But you love them. It gives you an assurance that you can please him like he does to you.

He rested his body on top of yours for a bit, his head nuzzled on your neck, panting from doing all the activity by himself. His hands firmly planted on the bed on both your sides so as not to put all his weight on you. His chest pressed flat on yours, allowing you to feel his heart beating so fast against his rib cage. You let him in this position, wiping the beads of sweats that covered his temple and forehead. You kiss the side of his head, your fingers stroking his hair in a comforting manner. He likes it when you take charge on the aftermath.

Your fingers lightly scratch his scalp, soothingly. Your other hand on his back, feather lightly rubbing his skin that is covered with a little moist of sweat. You tilted your head a little, purring closer to his earlobe.

“I love you.”

He lifted his head, meeting his half opened eyes. The corner of his mouth curled up in reply. He suddenly close the distance, capturing your lips. “I know baby, I love you, too.” He gently murmured against your tender lips. Then he kisses the tip of your nose before rolling over to his back, taking you with him. You ended up on on his side. His arms immediately covered your naked back from the cold. The new position gave you literally no space in between your bodies. His warmth comforting your body. You’re not sure if he’s still awake as your nose is buried on his neck that it didn’t let you see if he is. But you’re too tired and comfortable to move an inch.

“Babe…” you faintly whispered as your fingers traced the skin of his arm, if he’s asleep he probably wouldn’t hear you. He didn’t say anything.

Until he move. His arms tightening around you.

“Jagi, give me a minute or two,”

“What?”

He lifted his head to meet your eyes. “I thought you wanted more.”

You hit his chest playfully, but he caught it even before you do, taking it closer to his mouth to kiss the palm of it.

Not even a few minutes later, he flipped you both so he’s hovering you again. Jungkook pressed his hips against yours and you felt it. He’s turn on, again.

Squeals come out of your mouth as he attacked your neck, biting and sucking the skin playfully as if he’s some kind of a blood sucker creature. You thought you’re not ready to take him again after the intense one you just had. It was like you were not sated enough when he unsolicitedly slid inside you. You’ll always love the feel of him, filling you completely. He made you lose your mind, and didn’t stop after you exploded for the second time of the night.

You let him had you again, this time it was excruciatingly and painfully slow. You could make out a faint light illuminating from the blinds through your heavy eyelids when he finally stopped. His body falling with a thud on the other side of the bed, exhaustingly. That’s the last thing you remembered before sleep consumes over you.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook!husband #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts angst #jungkook husband au #bts fluff #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #felicity #fierce & delicate

980 notes · View notes

fernwehbookworm · 5 years ago

Text

Woke The F*ck Up- Chapter 23

April 26th, 2018

Instead of flying back to London, Lena books her and Kara first class tickets back to National City. Kara was probably the best distraction Lena could have right now. They were able to settle in the large chairs and have breakfast while everyone else was boarding. Kara quested a movie on their private viewing screens. Kara was shocked to learn Lena had never seen Fight Club. Kara excitedly started explaining the plot and then quoting lines along with the actors. About halfway through Lena leans over and whispers in the ear that Kara doesn't have the earbud in.

“Is this even realistic? I mean, who would start something like that? And then it just spirals into crazier and crazier things.”

Kara shifts slightly in her seat before clearing her throat. Nervously, she rubs her hand on her jeans and makes a face. Lena watches her fidget and raises an eyebrow at her and that seems to make Kara settle.

“I actually, may have, slightly, joined a Fight Club-like thing.” Kara says softly, not to be overheard by the wandering flight attendants or the other passengers.

“You what?!” Lena says a little too loudly, causing heads to turn.

“You what?” She whispers harshly.

“I...I was in a pretty dark place, Lee. I mean I know you didn’t cope with the break up well, and you know I started drinking. It was just something stupid I did. Most of the money I didn’t need for bills went to charities.” Kara pleads with Lena to understand. Lena sits there and stares blankly at the movie.

“You, the vigilante superhero, went to underground fight clubs, for money,” Lena says slowly. Kara bites her lip and nods.

“Wow… I mean… wow. I don’t really know what to say. That’s… wow. Were you good? I mean of course, you were good. I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do with this information.” Lena sits back in her sit and furrows her brow. Kara chuckles softly.

“I was very good. Undefeated, in fact. But Alex found out and flipped, then she dragged me to therapy and I never went back.”

“Aren’t you afraid of repercussions. I mean those things are like really illegal. The people who run them don’t like people just walking away.”

“Nah, I was careful. I always wore a mask. Not the Powergirl one. This one covered the lower half of my face like a ski mask.” Kara pops some more cashews in her mouth, relieved to get that off her chest.

“I never got jokes about airplane food. I mean I guess I never had it before you but this is great!” Kara pops some cut fruit in her mouth and hums contentedly.

“Darling, it’s first class. Of course, the food is good. Are we really just blowing past the illegal fight club?”

“There’s really not much else to say. I mean I did it, won a lot, then I quit. Did you need to talk about it more? Sorry, that wasn’t supposed to sound sarcastic. Really, if you need to talk about it more then please let me know. I just promised I wouldn’t keep secrets anymore so I thought you should know.”

“No, you’re right. I guess there really isn’t anything to talk about. It was just a shock I guess. And you’re sure no one will know?” “I’m positive.” Kara settles back in her seat to watch the end of her movie. Lena just stares blankly as she processes this new information. Somehow it all made sense in all the crazy that had become Lena’s life. Lena flags down the flight attendant for a whiskey and a pen and paper. She had to clear her head in the best way she knew how.

Once back on the ground it was easy for the pair to grab their carry-ons and Lena to rent a car. In no time they were at the nearest five-star hotel and Lena was checking in under an assumed name. Kara immediately crashes on the couch, complaining of jet lag, and Lena gathers some stuff to take a shower. By the time she finishes, Kara is snoring softly on the couch. Lena smiles softly at the sight before grabbing an extra blanket from the closet and draping it over Kara. The bed calls her away from the peaceful sight as her eyelids grow heavy.

The next thing Lena is aware of is Kara gently shaking her shoulder. She’s still dressed in the clothes from the day before. Lena peers at the alarm clock on the nightstand and groans as it reads four-fifteen.

“Hey, Lee. I’m going to take a Lift to the gym, I have to teach a class. Also, there is a tournament tonight that I have to finish getting ready. Just text me later.” Kara whispers softly. Lena can barely register the words but nods and grunts. She’s already falling back asleep when she thinks she feels Kara’s lips pressed to her forehead but she can’t even be sure or react before she’s deeply buried into sleep again.

Lena doesn't rouse until nearly eleven. Her new assistant had sent a personal shopper out to get Lena clothes for her and her impromptu trip after Lena had asked Eve to book the tickets. The sharp knocking woke her and she stumbled to the door to let the preppy blonde in. She dropped the arm full of bags while Lena went to grab cash to tip her.

“Is there workout clothes in there?” Lena asks.

“Yes, Miss Luthor. Miss Tessmacher mentioned that you have been frequenting The Power House when in National City.”

“Perfect. Thank you…”

“Haley” The woman supplies.

“Thank you, Haley. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

“Anything Miss Luthor. I am a huge fan.” Lena smiles and nods as she goes through her normal reactions to those statements.

“Thank you. Oh, but Haley, please don’t tell anyone I’m here.”

“Of course Miss Luthor, we all sign non-disclosures due to who we shop for.”

“Good to know.” Lena waits and her eyes flick from Haley to the door and back.

“Oh, right. Yes. Goodbye Miss Luthor. Let me know if you need anything.”

Haley disappears back out the door and Lena begins to sort through the clothing. Lena made a mental note to send another tip to the girl because she did a wonderful job. Lena sends a text off to Kara that she’s up and then begins to get dressed. She receives an enthusiastic reply to come to the gym when she's ready. Lena just laughs and shakes her head at the absurd amount of emojis, and how much she missed seeing them on her screen.

In twenty-five minutes Lena is walking in the front door to the Power House and it is chaos. Very few people are actually working out. Most stand in groups talking and laughing. It looks like the crowd is spilling out from The Box. Through the doors, Lena can glimpse a boxing ring set up.

“Hey Miss Luthor,” the girl at the desk says. Lena recognizes her from last time.

“Hi, Taylor. Where’s Kara?”

“I went ahead and checked you in and Coach K is through all that trying to get the tournament started. Good Luck.” Taylor waves Lena through the crowd and Lena groans. Taylor just laughs and then helps the next person check in.

Lena struggles through the growing crowd of hot, sweating bodies to reach The Box. It takes a good five minutes to reach the door and another five to reach Kara. She stands on a raised platform with a table and a giant bracket behind her, concentrating hard and sending her employees scattering to one task or another. Lena smiles as she watches Kara just be in her element. She also feels slightly aroused at the way Kara commands the chaos around her. Bright blue eyes lock on Lena and it steals her breath away. Then Kara smiles and Lena’s feet carry her forward.

“This is insane!” Lena yells over the chatter.

“Yeah! But it’s great! We hit our fundraising goal an hour ago and we haven't even started yet.” Kara shouts back.

“That’s great! But what is all this for? You never told me?”

“Oh, right!” Kara hops off the platform to stand next to Lena instead of leaning over her. Kara stands closer than normal so she doesn't have to shout but it makes Lena’s breathing a little shallow.

“This is an Ameture fighting tournament. We are raising money for a scholarship to send a student in need to college, full ride, to Nation City University. Winner still gets five-thousand dollars. We already made enough for the yet-to-be-determined student’s first year. That was the goal and now we have a head start on the second year. Tomorrow the applications open up and Winn and I will be working with a couple of admissions officers to sort through them.”

“Wow Kara, that is amazing!”

“I know, I am so pumped. The winner also gets a chance to fight me At the end. But now, I need to get things started. You can go sit with Winn if you want or in the bleachers. If your hungry there are concessions being sold in that corner. Enjoy the show.” Maybe it was adrenaline, or a lapse in judgment, or something, but Kara kissed Lena on the cheek before disappearing into the crowd and climbing into the ring, pulling a mic from her back pocket and turning it on. Lena is frozen in shock and she gets light headed as she forgets to breathe.

“Lena! Come on, have a seat. It’s one of the best in the house.” Winn calls to her from where he reclines in his own seat. Lena swallows hard and nods.

“Actually, I’m going to go grab a hat from Kara’s office. I’ll be right back.” Lena weaves her way back through the crowd, Listening as Kara begins her announcements.

“Welcome Ladies and Gentleman and Everyone in between!” A loud roar makes Kara pause. Lena slips into the office and grabs one of the Power House ball caps Kara keeps in there and makes her way back after pulling it snug over her head.

“I would like to personally welcome you all to the Power House!” Another roar.

“Before I get us started, I want you to all know, we have reached this year's goal but please do not stop you from donating! We are want to continue to build this scholarship up!” Stamping feet join the cacophony of noise. Lena jumps up next to Winn on the scoreboard platform.

“Now, without further ado, our first match up! Okay, I’m sorry, a little further ado, just for the general public knowledge. There are no Men’s and Women’s categories today. Points are based on form and execution, not hits. Not knockouts. This is an educational gym and these are first time fighters. So please take it, easy folks, this is a charity event. Now our first fighters. Jumpin’ Judy in the red corner is squaring up against Slammin’ Sara in the blue. Let’s make some noise!” Kara grins so wide Lena thinks it must hurt. Kara leaves the ring and the referee takes her place and the two women take their corners. Kara takes a seat next to Lena.

“Don’t you have to judge or whatever?” Lena asks.

“Nah, see over there,” Kara points to a table on the other side of the room that Lena had missed, “Those are my four of my coaches. They are doing the scoring. I get too invested sometimes. Best if I don’t judge.”

The bell dings and cuts off any further conversation. Lena watches as Kara is immediately absorbed into the fight. Lena watches as her eyes focus intently and she sits forward. Kara is in her element. After one particular hit Kara turns to Len to share her excitement and sees the raven-haired woman staring at her.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Lena shakes her head. “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. The more I learn about you the more I realize how shallow our relationship was.” Kara’s expression softens.

“We just had limitations before, that’s all. It’s like one of those Zero Entry pools. We walked in but didn’t get much past our knees before the whistle was blown for a break. Now we have a chance to actually go swimming when we’re ready.”

“Right. When We are ready.” Lena confirms, a cheer erupts and Kara refocuses on the match.

The rest of the day is filled with Kara cheering for both sides of every match, the noise becomes a constant buzz as Lena listens to Kara’s sideline coaching. Lena cheers with the crowd and makes idle chatter with Winn as Kara is constantly out of her seat to put out one fire or another.

“All right, this is the last match. Then I fight the winner. I need to go change but sit tight.” Kara bounces back over in giddy excitement that makes Lena smile.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Lena says in a voice just the right side of sultry. Kara blushes and nods before bouncing away again.

“So, when is the elephant in the room going to be addressed?” Winn asks.

“It’s been addressed, but we are just leaving it there for now. We are taking it slow this time.” The bell rings and the final match begins. Somehow the room grows even louder. All of it is hard to follow for Lena. Punches fly and most land in one shade or another. Both the competitors are on their fourth match and the weariness shows. Blocks are sluggish and the footwork looks less sure. But that is just the big stuff that Lena has picked up from hearing Kara talk all day. At the end of the three minutes, the bell rings and the final score is tallied. The judges tell the referee and Kara arrives back on stage, changed into an outfit similar to the one she wore in the first fight Lena watched. Lena’s breath catches at the sight of those abs and the pure confidence oozing off of her. Lena tries to subtly cross her legs to ease the feeling shooting through her. The ref holds up the hand of winner, a small but fierce woman named Addison. Kara had told Lena earlier that she was on the police force but loved coming here. Kara took ten percent off her membership every month, she did the same for the rest of the firemen and police who came here to work out.

“Congratulations Addison! You are today’s champion. Now, you can walk away now, or, take a thirty-minute break and take on me! If you get just one successful hit, you and a person of your choosing get a free year-long membership. What do you say?” Kara holds a hand out to Addison for her to shake, the woman takes it.

“You’re on Coach K.,” she says a little out of breath.

Lena resigns herself to at least another forty-five minutes sitting in a plastic chair, but then Kara is in front of her and pulls her away from the platform and Lena quickly forgets the small annoyance of discomfort. Kara laces her fingers in Lena’s and pulls her through the crowd and into her office.

“What are we doing?” Lena laughs.

“I need to warm up, and if I know you at all, you need some quiet.” Kara opens her secret entrance and descends down.

“Kara I’m fine. I am used to loud venues, you know.” Lena laughs but follows anyway.

“Yes, but then you like to hide in your dressing room until the ringing in your ears fades.”

Lena doesn't have a comeback for that. Except that it used to be accompanied by drinking and maybe something more to take the edge off. Instead this time she settles for grabbing water from Kara’s fridge and sitting at Winn’s central command and watching Kara. She starts with a series of stretching, reminding Lena just how flexible the Maiden of Might is. Kara seems oblivious to what she is doing to Lena and engages her in idle conversation.

“So I was thinking we could go get dinner after this, maybe a movie. Something quite. I mean, I’m a social person but this has been a lot today. I just need to relax.”

“Um, yeah. Sure. Or order in and just watch a movie at my hotel? We can get that Chinese place you love and extra pot stickers.” Kara started to jog around the room.

“Sounds perfect.” Kara starts short sprints bending and touching each line of the five evenly spaced out on one side of the room before sprinting back to the first.

“Is this even a fair fight? I mean you are a professional.” Kara drops to do push-ups, sweat starting to bead on her skin. Lena takes a long drink of water.

“Hey, I’m not heartless, she’ll get her free membership. But it’s good publicity for the gym.” Kara grabs a jump rope and begins a fast-paced rhythm. Lena averts her eyes, this was doing nothing for the rational part of her brain saying to take things slow this time. Luckily, Kara hangs up the rope as Lena finishes the water.

“Ready?” Kara asks.

“Uh, yeah. If you are.”

“I was born Ready,” Kara says with a wink before gesturing for Lena to go back up the stairs.

Some of the crowd has dissipated but it’s still very crowded. People still make way for Kara as she approaches the ring. Lena resumes her perch next to Winn and Kara takes the mic into the ring.

“All right everybody! This is it! I encourage you to record this and share it with friends. This May be Atomic Addy’s debut fight! Here she is, the Winner of the First Annual Power House Power Racket! Atomic Addy!” The woman hops up next to Kara, still slightly flushed but mostly recovered from her previous fight.

Kara hands the mic off to one of her judges and shakes Addison’s hand before the separate to their corners. The referee counts them down before the bell rings.

Addison is wary of Kara, slowly shuffling forwards with her arms in a guard like Kara had taught her. Kara bounces from foot to foot and looks like she’s just talking to Addison, encouraging her, coaching her. But Lena can’t hear through the noise of the crowd. She does see phones held up as people record.

Addison throws one punch that Kara dodges with ease. Kara says something and Addison squares her shoulders more.

Addison begins a quick series of punches, not going for power anymore, just a quick tap. Kara must have reminded her that she doesn't have to go for a knockout, just one hit. Kara dodges most and deflects the last. Kara takes a slow swing at the other woman’s head and she ducks it. Addison sends an uppercut towards Kara’s stomach but Kara jumps back enough to avoid it. The two women square off again. Kara says one more thing and Addison nods her head in confirmation of something. Lena thinks Kara says something like ‘Give it everything,’ but she can’t be sure. At least until Addison begins firing punch after punch at Kara, each faster than the last, Kara managing to block every one, until a block glances off her hand and hits her shoulder, spinning Kara away and too off balance to block the punch already following to hit her ribs. Kara is quick to recover, hardly phased by the impact, but both fighters still. It’s over. Addison stands painting, hands still up in a guard. Kara drops hers with a laugh and holds out a hand to shake. Addison grins and shakes it to the cheers of the room. As soon as the cheering stops the adrenaline of the day seems to fade and Lena is exhausted. She gets Kara’s attention and points to her office. Kara nods and Lena retreats there. She collapses in Kara’s leather rolling chair and sighs into the quiet.

After a few minutes, she calls the Chinese restaurant so that hopefully it won’t take it too long to get there after they leave, but she left instructions to leave it with the front desk just in case. After another ten minutes, Kara peeks in with a small smile, changed into sweats.

“Ready?” Kara asks.

“Yes, food is ordered.”

“Good, ride is out front.” Kara tosses Lena a helmet, which she just barely manages to catch.

“Don’t you have to clean up?” Lena asks, replacing her hat with the helmet.

“Nah, I promised Scott, Zach, Valerie, and Susan overtime pay to do the cleanup and next Friday off.”

“Oooo, look at you. Delegating like a champ.”

“Hey, I can afford it now. Which is something I don’t think I ever thought possible but between the gym and my art I can pay time and a half to my employees to clean up. And I can go eat food and hang out with my… friend.” Kara hesitates on the term but Lena decides to let it go. For now.

“Sounds great. I’m proud of how far you’ve come, even if you are still basically homeless.” Lena teases.

“Hey! I like it down there, and it is very convenient.” Kara holds the door open for Lena.

“I’m sure it is.” Lena lets Kara get on the bike then climbs on behind her.

“I hear the sarcasm but I’m ignoring it. I have potstickers on my mind.”

“Potstickers? I thought you said Kale.” Lena teases and Kara gasps.

“Don’t tease me, Lena. You ordered potstickers, right? Right?!” Lena just shrugs at Kara’s pleading.

“Maybe, maybe not. You’ll just have to see when we get there.”

“You better hold on then.”

Kara flicks down her visor and kicks the bike into gear. Lena squeals and tightens her arms around Kara’s center. She feels Kara chuckle as she weaves through the traffic.

“Yes, ma’am. I am sure. That is Andromeda. The fighting style matches the little footage we still have of her. Plus Kara Danvers has the background to do it.”

“Excellent. Miss Danvers needs to be taught a lesson. No one just walks away from my fight club.” Roulette sneers. Either the fighters left too broken to continue or moved up in her service. Personal bodyguards, hired hitman, escorts, and the like. Andromeda just disappearing after the amount of money she had taken was like spitting on Roulette's pride. It would not be tolerated.

“Find out where she lives, find out her routine. She will not be easy. Make sure all my best men are available for this.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The man nods his head and exits the room. Roulette settles in her padded chair in the dark back room of the fight club. Everything has to go perfect. Andromeda must be taken by surprise.

April 27th, 2018

Alex was nervous. Her palms were sweating and her stomach was fluttering. Her mouth was dry and she was very aware of her tongue and how it didn’t seem to quite fit between her teeth. She couldn’t believe the text message she received this morning. She paced for about half an hour thinking about how to respond and after responding she went for a very long run just to do something. The day had seemed to stretch out before her like an endless maw until just this moment as she stared at the handle of the bar door. Now the day seemed to collapse in on itself and shrink to the small point of the threshold.

Sam waited on the other side of that door. The woman Alex had a major crush on and hadn’t seen since Lena’s rescue. They did live on different continents and all. But they had texted and called their conversations always edged on the flirty side of suggestive. Well they had slept together once too. And that may be the problem. Alex knew what lay hidden under Sam’s expensive clothes. She had spent hours mapping out her skin with kisses and tracing patterns in a trail of goosebumps. Because Alex knew what that was like she couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she couldn’t stop thinking about why Sam was suddenly in National City.

With a deep breath, Alex squares her shoulders and runs a hand through her hair. She tucks her helmet under her arm and opens the door. Alex scans the room for the woman she came here to meet and finds her in a back corner booth, sipping red wine. As if feeling Alex’s eyes on her, Sam looks up. When their eyes lock, Alex’s breath catches. Then Sam’s lips curl softly in a small smile and Alex is gliding across the room to sit across from her.

“Hello, Alex,” Sam says as she slides into the booth.

“Hey, Sam.” Alex sets her helmet on the seat beside her.

“Aren’t you Danvers sisters a gay dream. With motorcycles and leather jackets. Makes me wonder what’s in the water of that small town you come from.” Sam sips her wine and Alex’s mouth goes dry. Thankfully she is saved from responding by a waitress asking for her drink.

“Whiskey, neat. Thanks.” Alex says and shrugs off Sam’s raised eyebrow.

“So what brings you back to National City?” Alex asks Sam.

“No small talk huh? Well, Ruby is at a two-week long summer camp and Lena was supposed to come home but I received a text yesterday that she had decided to come here instead after the trial. I figured I might as well use up some of my vacation time and come be with my best friend. I also thought I would stop in to see the woman I can’t seem to get out of my head.” Sam says very plainly as she shifts to cross her legs. Alex almost jumps at the feel of a foot stroking her calf under the table. Thankfully, the waitress drops of Alex’s whiskey just in time for her to take a big gulp of the burning liquid.

“Is Lena expecting you anytime soon?” Sam shakes her head slowly.

“No, she doesn't even know I’m here yet.”

“Want to get out of here?” Alex asks.

“Very much so.” Both women polish off their drinks and Alex leaves plenty of cash on the table before grabbing Sam’s hand and eagerly pulling her towards the exit, all her earlier nerves forgotten now that she knows Sam wants her too.

“I think I was too hard on the two of them. Especially Kara.” Sam whispers, her finger tracing patterns on Alex’s stomach, using her chest as a pillow. Alex has one arm wrapped around her while using the other to prop up her own head.

“What do you mean?” Alex feels Sam take a deep breath.

“Back before I met Kara, when she kept canceling on Lena, before we knew what she was doing, I said some not nice things to Lena. About Kara.” Sam pauses and Alex waits patiently for her to continue.

“I said that Kara was just using her for the fame and the free trips and then was bailing because she had her fill of it. I wasn’t supportive at all.” Alex is quite a moment.

“I don’t blame you. You hadn’t met Kara. All you saw was your friend being hurt, over and over. And with Lena’s fame, I’m sure there are probably plenty of people who would do just that. You had to protect her. Do you still feel that way?”

“A little I guess. I mean, I’ve met her now and she's like this ray of sunshine. But I still worry that she’ll build Lena up again to tear it all away again. Maybe its the mother in me. I don’t know. I want to support them. I do. But that doesn't stop the worrying.”

“I constantly worry about Kara. It never stops. She went to a dark place after everything with Lena. She’s had the darkness buried deep in her for a long time, since her parents, and then my dad, she buried it deep. Now I worry it’s too close to the surface. My only comfort is that they are doing it right this time. Taking it slow and getting help from Kara’s therapist.”

“That is true. But the way Lena has been talking, I think they will snap soon. Like pulling a rubber band further apart until it either breaks or springs back together. Hopefully, it’s the springing back together.” Sam’s hand has been slowly tracing lower and lower as she and Alex spoke, unaware of the fact until she feels Alex’s breath shorten and feels the soft tufts of hair just peeking out from the sheet.

“Can we...umm… stop talking about my sister now?” Alex swallows hard.

“Hmmm, thinking of ways we can spring together?” Sam teases. Alex rolls over and immediately begins to kiss her way downwards.

“You have no idea,” Alex growls out.

“Show me.”

April 28th, 2018

“Babe, hurry up! We are supposed to meet Kara and Lena in ten minutes!” Sam calls from the kitchen island, waiting for Alex to choose the right leather jacket to go with her all black outfit, something Sam had already teased her about.

“D-did you just call me babe?” Alex peeks her head out from her closet.

“Suppose I did. Is that a problem?”

“N-n-no. No, of course not. Just seems like a couple-y thing to do. Something maybe we should talk about?” Alex pulls a jacket from the closet and walks toward the woman who is looking fantastic in borrowed clothes.

“Maybe, but I also am not ready to have a conversation like that. But your reaction to ‘Babe’ is too good to pass up on.”

“Is it the same at how turned on I am to you in my shirt?”

“Probably.” Sam settles her arms on Alex’s shoulders as Alex’s settle on her hips. Alex leans in for a kiss, only to be stopped by a hand on her chest.

“We are going to be so late if I let you kiss me,” Sam whispers.

“Ugh, fine. But I will try and bring you home with me tonight.”

“Well, Miss Danvers, I don’t just go home with anyone.”

“Oh, you want to be wooed? I can woo. Us Danvers are natural charmers.”

“Now that, I can believe. Come on. Let’s go. Lena is going to kill me for being late.”

Lena did not kill Sam for being late. She was too engrossed in how Kara stood behind her, one hand on her hip, the other guiding her hand, as Kara showed her how to throw darts. Lena is trying to pay attention to Kara’s words, she really is, but Kara’s breath on the back of her neck raises goosebumps and makes Lena shiver.

“That was great!” Kara exclaims and a spattering of clapping pulls Lena’s attention away from the joy in Kara’s eyes.

“Well done, you just may be able to beat me next time.” Sam teases.

“Sam!” Lena rushes to hug her friend, Sam laughs and squeezes her back.

“It’s good to see you too Lena.”

“I’m so glad you came.”

“Me too.”

“Okay- you, me, shots.” Lena drags Sam towards the bar to catch up with her best friend. Tonight they had no worries about tomorrow and Lena was going to take advantage. Alex watches Sam walk away, eyes raking over her from head to toe. Kara nudges her.

“So Sam is in town.”

“Yup.”

“And she’s been here since yesterday.”

“Yup.”

“And didn’t text Lena until this afternoon.”

“Yup.”

“And is wearing your clothes.”

“Kara… leave it be.”

“Leave what be? I’m just pointing out facts. And I haven't seen a grin that big since after your first date with Maggie.” Kara says innocently as she sips her club soda. Alex groans.

“Look, don’t make this a big deal. We are just enjoying each other's company. We still live on different continents.”

“I won’t. I won’t. I’m just glad you are doing something besides working.” Kara takes another sip before her eyes bulge out at Alex’s laugh, realizing what she said.

“Yup, doing something besides work. That is for sure.”

“Alex!”

“Hey, you started it. Oh yes, Sam brought me alcohol.” Alex excitedly reaches for the glass in Sam’s hand and Sam deposits it in her hand with a kiss on the cheek. Sam ignores Lena eyeing the action and elbowing Kara in the process.

“Okay, so what’s the plan tonight?” Sam asks the table.

“Darts here, pool at the next bar, then the Karaoke bar.” Kara excitedly explains.

“Great, so I can be plenty drunk for karaoke,” Alex grumbles.

“Exactly.” Kara ignores her sister’s negativity.

“But not too drunk for after karaoke.” Sam whispers in Alex’s ear, sending shivers down her spine. Alex glances at her sister but Kara is already distracted again as she helps Lena at the dart board.

Kara may be the sober one tonight, but that would not stop her from singing the opening song to High School Musical as a duet with Lena, who was not so sober. But Kara was having a great time. Alex seemed to be having a better one as Kara tried to ignore where her sister’s and Sam’s hands were in the dark of their booth.

Now who'd have ever thought that

We'd both be here tonight

And the world looks so much brighter

With you by my side

I know that something has changed

Never felt this way

I know it for real

This could be the start of something new

Kara saw Lena’s eye twinkling with happiness and what Kara distinctly remembers as lust. It makes Kara’s skin heat all over in a way she knows is not from the stage lights. Lena sings in perfect harmony with Kara and Kara is in awe of her talent, as always.

And now looking in your eyes I feel in my heart

That it's the start of something new

It feels so right to be here with you

And now looking in your eyes I feel in my heart

The start of something new (The start of something new)

The start of something new

A late night spattering of drunken applause follows their last note. The pair bounce back to the bar to get more drinks then back to the booth. Sam and Alex break apart from their lip lock to acknowledge Lena and Kara’s wonderful performance. They leave shortly after that and Kara does not ask questions. Lena finishes her drink before asking Kara to leave as well. Lena orders a Lift on the way to the door. The stand outside and a slight chill in the air makes Lena shiver.

“Oh, I left my jacket at the table,” Lena says as she rubs her arms.

“I’ll get it. Stay close to the door and don't get in the car before I get back. Can’t have you getting lost.” Kara teases as she guides Lena to lean against the wall next to the door, Kara glances up and sees the little red light on the security camera over the main entrance.

Kara wonders back inside towards the booth they had been sitting in. It’s already occupied by new patrons who hadn’t seen the jacket. Kara tries the bartender who directs her towards a back hallway where the manager's office is. She knocks but there is no answer so she tries the handle. It twists and opens. Lena’s jacket is hanging on the back of the chair and Kara steps inside to grab it when she feels a prick in her neck. Too late she registers the squeak of floorboards. Too late she notices the looming presence behind the door. Too late she turns to swing a punch at the person drugging her. Too late she sees the face that looks almost familiar before darkness descends.

#Supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #singer #Vigilante #au #fanfiction #WTFU

12 notes · View notes

kristablogs · 5 years ago

Text

The truth about Area 51 UFO sightings, according to a local expert

What's the real story behind the mysterious lights over Rachel, Nevada? (Phil McDonald/Deposit Photos/)

Reprinted with permission from They Are Already Here: UFO Culture and Why We See Saucers by Sarah Scoles. Published by Pegasus Books. © Sarah Scoles.

Arnu arrives at the A’Le’Inn in a big SUV, pulling up and saying hi to the hungover twentysomethings rocking in rocking chairs out front before he greets us.

“You ready?” he asks, and we pack into his Tahoe and head right back out on the Extraterrestrial Highway.

Arnu has owned property in Rachel since the early 2000s. Back in its boom, when the tungsten mine near Tempiute Mountain was still digging wealth out of the planet, around 500 people lived here. Today, it’s a small town—just around fifty residents, who meet up at the collective mailbox when the Postal Service arrives. Young people, Arnu says, tend to leave. There’s no TV reception. There’s just a squeak of cell phone service. Few places exist to build a career, none to go to college. Some people work at what they simply call “the test site,” an umbrella term that could refer to any of the secret-squirrel operations nearby—the Nevada National Security Site, the Tonopah Test Range, or Area 51.

Around ten people also work at the A’Le’Inn, by far Rachel’s biggest employer. They’re always hiring, because people are always leaving. But people are always showing up, too. “Sometimes they come up here because they are interested in Area 51,” says Arnu, “and they just get stuck.”

That’s what happened to Arnu, decades ago now. It all started with online research into Area 51, reading a website run by a former programmer and airline worker named Glenn Campbell. In the 1990s, Campbell ran the Area 51 Research Center and two UFO newsletters—The Groom Lake Desert Rat and the just plain Desert Rat. The newsletter logo featured a sentient rodent with safari shirt, walkie-talkie, and binoculars, underneath the tagline “The Naked Truth from Open Sources.”

Recalling this, Arnu speeds along the straight road. “He was one of the first that brought the attention of the general public,” he says. But Campbell was mysterious, evasive. “I wanted to know what’s really going on here. Are there UFOs are there no UFOs?”

So Arnu took a day trip, traveling from his home in San Francisco. And when he arrived, he found a place that was fascinating as much for its terrestrial qualities as its celestial hypotheticals. “I had never really experienced the desert in this way,” he says. “And it was just like, ‘Oh my God, this is a whole different world.’ ”

He thought of it, thinks of it now, in terms of motorcycle trips—a hobby of his that he just calls “riding.” “It’s always my thing: I want to see what’s behind the next turn, the next hill,” he says. And despite how this highway feels—unchanging, flat, forever—if you veer from it, turns and hills and the secrets behind them abound.

Release date: March 3 (Courtesy of Pegasus Books/)

Arnu went back home knowing he would return. The presence of the place loomed over him, shook him. Soon enough, the labor market gave him a chance: His company downsized, so he took a severance package and car-camped around Rachel.

Soon after that, Arnu started his own website, mostly a blog detailing his daily exploits: As he summarizes it, Today I went out to this gate, this is what I found, check out my pictures. More important than anything he wrote, though, were the comments sections.

“It’s like people were only waiting for a place to congregate,” he says. He soon started a forum—still going strong today—dedicated to such interaction. “We’re geeks,” he says. “We’re loners. But at the same time we also want to discuss what we do with like-minded people.”

He moved to Vegas in 2002 and then bought the property in Rachel, working remotely a lot so he could spend a week at a time in the remote desert.

“And here I am,” he says. “Years later. Still unraveling the mystery of Area 51.”

Arnu looks through the Tahoe’s windshield and points at a prominent peak ahead of us. If you can get to the top, you can see inside Area 51, which would then be 26 miles away. This high spot is the only one left with that view, the military having gobbled up all closer vantage points in a series of land grabs. Here’s what the base looks like from up there: Dark, if you’re doing it right, because the interesting stuff happens at night. But all of a sudden, way across the valley, a runway illuminates itself, a long line of lights dotting the landscape. “You know something is about to happen,” Arnu says. Aircraft bulbs streak along the runway, as a Whatever speeds to takeoff. And as soon as the Whatever is airborne, its lights blink out of existence, and so do the runway’s. The Earth becomes as optically opaque as it was before.

It’s not that they appear. It’s that they disappear.

Nevertheless, the base continues to give away information invisibly: Pilots talk on radios, and if the chatter is not so secret, you may be able to catch a monologue.

Arnu has a radio scanner, which he now turns on, mounted to the dash of his Tahoe. It runs through many Hertz in search of such communication. As the display rolls across frequencies, I prepare to tell Arnu about what we saw last night, feeling silly and like every other overexcitable person who’s ever visited the region.

I know from our prior emails that Arnu doesn’t ride the alien train. Sure, creepy stuff happens here. Sure, there are strange lights, technologies we can barely fathom. But they don’t require invocation of the extraterrestrial: They’re just the government, doing things the world isn’t privy to—the growing up of projects perhaps born classified, just like it always has here.

That started with the U-2, which flew twice as high as a commercial jet, and much higher than anything else at the time. Workers commuted daily on passenger jets—a secret service people call, in its modern incarnation, “Janet airlines”—partly so that permanent residences would not reveal the scale of efforts here. U-2 pilots, though they worked for the CIA, wore civilian clothes and pretended to do weather-related research, according to the book Area 51 by investigative journalist Annie Jacobsen.

Later, Area 51 hosted the Oxcart spy plane project, the U-2 successor that also flew close to the sun but showed up dimmer on radar. Jacobsen writes that FAA and NORAD employees were instructed “not to ask questions about anything flying over 40,000 feet.” And when commercial flights crossed paths with an Oxcart, and a pilot did report it, the FBI would meet the plane at the gate, asking passengers to sign nondisclosure agreements.

Rachel is the closest town to Area 51, a top-security Air Force testing ground in the southeastern Nevada desert. (Alexey Stiop/Deposit Photos/)

Around the country, people nonetheless spotted spy planes and reported them as UFOs. Says a CIA report from 1997, “Over half of all UFO reports from the late 1950s through the 1960s were accounted for by manned reconnaissance flights (namely the U-2) over the United States.” Many, including UFO skeptics, dispute this take, but it doesn’t seem absurd that the government would use UFO reports to understand how conspicuous its technology would look in less friendly skies. And it doesn’t actually want people to see skylights and think “spy planes.” So it is sometimes in the feds’ best interest to let people attribute the phenomenon to something mysterious, unearthly, not them. And—bonus—because many people thought UFOs were woo-woo and not “real,” whoever heard about these UFO sightings would likely dismiss the very real U-2 or A-12 their kid had just seen. The government’s secrets could stay secret. If you wanted to create a theory about why the military hasn’t come out swinging against some of its pilots’ more modern sightings, you might consider this part of the past.

“ ‘Oh, well, these people just saw another UFO,’ ” mimics Arnu. “In actuality they may have seen something super-secret ... If you make people look like fools when they say they saw something, if they say they saw something super secret, what better way to discredit them?” Given the government’s history of passive deception, and active secret-keeping, here, is it any surprise that people suspect it could be hiding something more inside Area 51?

But I want to know what Arnu, who sees this stuff every day, thinks of my sighting. So I describe the on-off lights, their hovering, and my theory that this was some kind of hide-and-seek exercise.

Arnu frowns in concentration. “Were the lights kind of orange?” he asks. “A bright orange color?”

“Yes!” says Carolyn from the backseat. Arnu nods and then goes on to describe exactly what we saw, detail for detail, as if he were there.

“That was flares you were seeing,” he says. A plane chases another plane, and the chaser sends off a (fake) heat-seeking missile. The chased plane drops flares, which burn so hot that they distract the missile, which then chases them instead of the jet’s exhaust. These planes drop flares in patterns—disc shapes, sometimes—to send the missiles clear off course.

Hearing this incident repeated back, with more meaning, makes me feel the way people do when they discover their seemingly singular experience is, in fact, universal: equal parts relieved and disappointed.

Arnu’s first UFO sighting, turns out, was also flares. He had been camping right where we did, in the gravel parking area. “I looked over Tikaboo,” he says, referring to one of the peaks, “and all of a sudden, I see this disc-shaped object of orange orbs hanging in the sky.”

It’s all true, he recalls thinking. They’re coming to get me.

But they weren’t and they didn’t. He was just primed: He thought he had witnessed a UFO because that’s what he expected to witness. “Your eyes see what you want them to see,” he says.

He then begins to talk about YouTube videos of cars disappearing on the Extraterrestrial Highway. They’re not disappearing, he says: They’re coming down from summits, hitting dips.

“We saw that!” I say, and describe how I scared ourselves into thinking that the guards had set a trap.

“That’s why I’m such a skeptic,” says Arnu. “Because I’ve seen it. And I know for a fact what they’re describing is very explainable.” Talking to Arnu feels like seeing a therapist who understands, even when you don’t, that your problems are all because of your mom.

1 note · View note

scootoaster · 5 years ago