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pinkchanelbag · 4 years ago

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what we want. [e. jaegar]

in order to bus to the ball tournament, you, the team manager, have to stay the night at the house of the startup point guard and your best friend, eren.

wc: 5k.

cw: NSFW 18+, female bodied reader, not proofread.

note: this is so LONG IM SO SORRY im literally incapable of pnp. but enjoy hehe.

“get down,” eren murmured into your ear.

you barely heard him above connie and marco’s obnoxious singing, but you did hear him. looking up into his face, you could see he was serious and that his eyes were staring out of the car window and at something. when you followed his gaze, you spotted the cop car, and quickly pushed yourself further down into eren’s lap, grunting with the effort.

“connie, shut up!” armin said from his seat beside you with jean on his opposite side. the poor guy got stuck with the middle seat, between the two tallest players on the team, no less. not to mention the entire body eren carried on his lap.

from the front seat, connie halted his wailing of party in the usa to whip his head back with an offended glare, but when he noticed armin and eren’s attention towards, there he saw it, a cop car, he murmured an oh shit and slapped marco’s shoulder. the power forward stopped singing himself and quickly took the hint. the car was quiet for a few moments as you uncomfortably curled your upper body downwards. your face was close to eren’s knees and your lower half was pressing into your friend’s in a way that was hard for either of you to ignore. you groaned at the position, calling out to your friends.

“next time, jean takes someone’s lap.”

“why me!?” he exclaimed. “it should be connie, he’s the shortest.”

“HEY,” connie yelled. “it’s my car. unless you shits plan on walking to the tournament, what i say goes.” it didn’t take long for the members of the starting lineup to break out into a petty argument over who should sit on whose lap, but you still sat crouched into eren’s lap, huffing with annoyance. you knew it was a stupid idea to try to fit all six of you in the car, especially during rush hour when police had a special eye out.

“you’re good now,” eren chuckled. you unfolded yourself and hit him on the arm.

“don’t laugh,” you said. he didn’t, but he continued to smile for a few moments. that was, until you started rolling your head to the left and right to stretch out your neck.

“fucking hell,” you groaned, oblivious to the way eren’s eyes lined the columns of your throat.

“yeah...we definitely can’t do this again...” he laughed. you looked back at him with an amused smile, and he knew you understood his meaning. well, it had been many years since you were anything but brazen around eren.

“you guys are gross,” armin stated with a raised brow. you simply stuck your tongue out at him. just then, the car hit an especially sharp bump in the road that a) practically bounced you on eren’s lap and b) elicited a sharp sound from the trunk. eren grunted at the impact of you landing back on his lap. you braced yourselves against his thighs.

“connie!” you shouted. “you’re gonna break my perfume bottle, you asswipe!”

“you broke my dick,” eren squeaked.

“how is a road bump my fault!? i hate you guys, i’m never driving you again!” the small guard in the driver’s seat started. “and it’s not my fault you live across the fucking city, y/n!”

you simply huffed at that, because there was little you could say. the bus would come house to house to pick you all up for the basketball tournament early tomorrow morning, and your house was so ridiculously far from the school that it would disrupt the entire trip schedule to go out of the way picking you up. you volunteered to spare the additional expenses and time and just not come, but the team had insisted that they needed their manager there. so the solution had been to stay at the home of one of the players, and it wasn’t exactly a tough decision, seeing as the startup point guard, the boy whose genitals you just smushed, has been your best friend since your first day of university.

“sorry,” you mumbled to him, but he shook his head to dismiss it. you realized that as you had clutched his thighs for support, he had sunk his hands into the plush of your outer thighs near your hips to brace himself against the pain. the hairs that fell from his bun tickled your ear as your bodies leaned over, and when he spoke you could hear it ridiculously close.

“little gentler next time?” he murmured. you felt goosebumps rise on your arms at the implication, at next time, but you simply dismissed him with a shh.

it wasn’t always like this, that was true. you and eren truly were friends, and had built that friendship based on mutual struggle through your first year as university students. but you supposed that the two of you had gotten closer in the second semester last year, when the weather was kinder and you had more classes together and more free time. more friends, more comfortable spaces and knowing your way around. and throughout the summer, you had spent many days together, along with your combined friend group, and you and eren had always been especially connected. you were best friends, probably. you’d never cared enough to think about it.

“okay, get out.” connie turned over to look into the back, in particular at you and eren. he’d skidded to a stop in front of eren’s mother’s house. quite a few members of the basketball team had already lived in the city prior to getting into university, so made no use of the student residence when they had homes of their own already. lucky for you, eren was one of those people. you didn’t think you’d be able to last the night in a boy’s tiny dorm.

after pulling your luggage and eren’s gym bag out the trunk, heeding jean’s don’t you dare be late threats and bidding goodbye to the exhausting starting lineup, you and eren finally made your way into the house.

for all the time you’d spent together in the last year and a half, you’d never been to eren’s house. because of how far you lived, you often spent the night in your friend sasha’s dorm for the night, so there was never reason to stay at anyone’s home but hers and your own. this was your first year as basketball team manager. it was also your first tournament, and as exciting as it was, you were too exhausted from the week to care at the moment.

after practically wrestling your tiny suitcase from your hands, eren nodded in the direction of a staircase.

“mom’s not home right now. c’mon,” he said, bag in each hand. his shoulder blades bulged sharply through the fabric of his team t-shirt at the effort of going up the stairs with the weight. you hardly noticed the way your eyes rested on the sight as you followed him up.

“um...hope you don’t plan on putting me in the same bed as you,” you said, arriving to the top of the stairs. eren threw his gym bag down one direction of the landing where you saw an open door to what looked like a laundry room. eren let out an amused heh under his breath.

“nah, don’t worry. you’ll sleep on the floor.”

you smacked his back lightly as you followed him into his bedroom. he only laughed again, putting down your suitcase and straightening up as you stepped aside from behind him to take a look at the room.

“oh, you are such a boy,” were the first words out of your mouth. eren gave you a look, but you only giggled and did a 360 of the room. pale blue walls lined with occasional sports posters. on one side, a wall closet with its door closed and an overflowing laundry hamper standing nearby. an unmade twin bed with a textbook teetering at the end of it, a tv, playstation, and overflowing bookshelf set up against the wall that had the door, and a window staring back opposite you with a view of the cul-de-sac. when stated in those terms, it might’ve sounded like eren was rich or close to it, but really it wasn’t as simple as that. it was actually quite a small bedroom, in a neighborhood of mostly one-storey houses filled with diverse families. you knew from what eren had told you in the past that he started out playing basketball with kids in the area, one of whom had a net set up in his driveway. years later, eren was able to go to college on a partial sports scholarship.

“i’ve had this room since i was eight,” eren huffed. you giggled and continued to look around with shuffled, timid steps. on the other hand, eren stepped into the room and laid down on his bed. he upper body and thighs rested on the mattress, his knees bent and feet still touching the ground. he brought his hands to his head and let out a groan of exhaustion. practice had been especially gruelling all week to prepare for the tournament.

“have i mentioned that you stink?” you told him, still standing near the door.

“about a hundred times. i’ll shower in a bit.” he brought his hands away from his face and instead clasped them behind his head to look at you. “you can come in, you know.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “actually, this room is kinda cute. i’ve never had a home i stayed in for so long.” you turned to look at the bookshelf, which of course had few books in it. instead it had shoeboxes, old baseball gloves, some framed pictures, and years’ worth of tokens and trinkets of eren’s life. “can i look through all your shit?” you turned to him and asked with a purposely too-bright smile. eren chuckled and gestured in a manner that said have at it, and so you began poking at the memories along the shelf. you were careful not to step on the tip of eren’s feet (again, the room wasn’t exactly big) as you glanced along the wall at the sports trophies and posters. it was a strange thing how you could see these naked glimpses into eren’s life. it was a rather casual kind of intimacy, you thought. it made you smile, being able to be closer to eren. you figured there’d been lots of girls in this room, but you got an almost childish satisfaction at knowing that while they got one busy night, you’d gotten, and would continue to get, the intimacies from eren that allowed you to see the boy for who he really was, and that made you equally special to him.

it was also strange how you couldn’t really know the way eren’s eyes followed your figure as you shifted in a semi circle through the room. you stopped halfway along your route, looking at the closet and then turning to meet eren’s gaze, asking permission. eren nodded his consent, and you opened the closet, giggling at the way he’d no doubt shoved a few stray things in the room into it in anticipation of your arrival.

“shut up,” he said, but there was no push in his voice. he propped himself up on his elbow and lulled his head over one shoulder to look at where you stood at his side. he wasn’t exactly conscious of it, but he found some comfort and enjoyment in watching you walk and move, watching your torso twist and your hips and legs sway idly. it was the same with your face, how he watched it almost as a default rest stop for his eyes. he liked watching the muscles of your existence move to animate you.

of course, jean would just call it staring at your ass.

“i’m gonna go shower,” eren finally said after having his moment of rest. he heaved himself off the bed and grabbed a towel from the hook behind the door.

“can i get changed in here?” you asked, fingers scratching your jeans.

“go for it,” and then he was off, just barely missing the little oooh you made at finding a hoodie of eren’s in the closet that you’d always particularly liked on him.

in the shower, eren let the water run over his back muscles. he leaned against the wall and sighed, and found that there was a content smile on his face. he was excited for this night. being around you was fun. not just fun like entertaining, but genuinely giddy. he always looked forward to when it was just the two of you. even more so considering the way the two of you had been subconsciously pushing the boundary of physical touch between friends. tonight, he looked forward to being able to pull you against him as you watched a movie or have you braid his hair, or something. he liked being close to you in a way that was different than any other girls. he didn’t pay it much mind.

he was done his shower before long, stalking into the hall and towards his bedroom with his towel wrapped around his torso. he figured he’d grab some clean clothes and go back to the bathroom to change. when he pushed the ajar door, his jaw hung open at seeing you crouched quite close to where he stood, where he had dropped your suitcase that you now rummaged through. you looked up at him, and for both parties, the angle was nothing short of lewd. you peered up at eren in nothing but his towel and chain, hair down and wet, drops of water dotting his toned stomach and arms. if he had stepped a foot closer, you’d surely be able to see right up the towel. meanwhile, eren looked down at you kneeled by his feet, and didn’t miss that you had changed into a hoodie and sleep shorts. his hoodie.

“that’s mine,” he said dumbly. you lifted yourself up slowly so as not to lean forward any closer to him.

“yeah,” you replied, and your tone was nervous, which was a first despite your not so occasional suggestive circumstances with the boy. “where are your clothes?”

the two of you stood close but not too close, and far but not quite that far. it felt weirdly like a confrontation, like there was something you were supposed to say to each other.

“there,” eren said, nodding at the closet. he cleared his throat and side-stepped you. his hand grazed your waist as he passed, and you felt your breath hitch. what the hell?

you didn’t really process it, but rather just turned around to absently watch him. but when you saw the way his shoulder blades flexed as he reached into the shelves of the closet, you had to manually suck in a breath.

meanwhile, eren could practically feel his fingers itch at the way you’d look with legs bare and the zipper of his hoodie nicely revealing your collarbone. in an instant, he was struck with the panic of popping a boner right then and there. when he turned to leave, he had to hold back a groan at the way you just stood there.

“i’m gonna go change in the, uh...” he said, stepping forward once again to leave the room, once again needing to go around you. this time, however, he moved slower because he couldn’t help but look at you. it took all his willpower not to drag his eyes up and down your figure. he managed to simply stare at the exposed skin at your sternum.

“mmhm,” you hummed, but now neither of you moved. after a few moments, eren spoke again.

“why you wearing that?” it was a casual question, so why was his gaze so intense?

“oh, uh,” you breathed a nervous laugh. “i just always liked this. liked how it looked on you, plus it’s comfy...”

“looks better on you.” you bunched the fabric in your hands nervously, but that only accentuated where your thighs and hips curved together, and eren gulped, inching closer. “looks good.”

you looked away from his stare, but found that your vision was consumed mostly by his unbearable chest. the towel he held, along with clothes bunched in his fingers, did little to hide the v-shaped path leading to--

“can you put a shirt on?” you asked, poking his hard stomach. your voice wasn’t as joking as you’d hoped it would be, but still eren laughed.

“problem?” he asked. before you could retrieve the finger, he grabbed it in his free hand, and you were breathing manually again. and this time, his gaze was too much not to meet. and it said what you both were thinking. in fact, it was so obvious that two conversations seemed to exist: the verbal one, and the one between your eyes, the latter being the more forthcoming. you stood there for a few moments more. eren’s hand shifted to clasp your four fingers.

“you okay?” he asked. he wasn’t sure what he intended with the question, but he wanted to know the answer anyway.

“um...yeah.” and it was true. you’d never actually felt uncomfortable around eren. “...just nervous.”

eren smiled softly.

“me too.”

he pulled you into him by your hand to collide his lips with yours.

once the hand is free, you plant both of them on the tops of his bare shoulders, and his skin is so warm that it lights fire in your stomach. his one hand rests on the place above your waist and under your arm before sliding to the centre of your back to pull you as close as he can without letting go of his towel. but as your bodies shifted, so did the towel, and he had to fumble with his hand to shimmy it back up his hips. he pulled away with a woah woah woah to readjust it, hand still on your waist. you met each other’s eyes, breaths short.

“what are we doing?” he asked. not in a negative way, but rather as if he was asking for the next step.

“i don’t know,” you said with an identical tone. “is this bad?”

“uh...i don’t think it--wait, do you mean the kiss?”

“no, no the kiss wasn’t ba-”

“yeah, good ki...good, uh-”

“i mean is this-” you gestured between you and him with your eyes. “-bad?”

“it doesn’t have to be if we don’t want it to.”

“so...we want it?” you asked, and there was a slight nod of your head. eren grinned, his own slight nod back before taking your lips again. there was something equal parts tender and needy. it was evident in the way eren’s arm wrapped all the way around you to put his hand on your opposite hip, fingers tangled in the hem of the hoodie and scrunching it up just enough for you to feel his fingers on the skin of your waist. his head was caged between your arms, but he didn’t seem to mind. you could feel everything. his damp hair slicking your cheeks and curtaining both of your faces, the way his lips stroked yours, his chest against yours, the heat in your core.

you were pulled out of the daze at eren’s steps backwards towards the bed, bringing you with him. now, with his back to the foot of the bed, he laughed sheepishly. you noticed he’d long dropped his change of clothes to the ground.

“i am very naked,” he said. you burst into a giggle at which he rolled his eyes with red cheeks, and it was strange to see eren bashful over his appearance for the first time. it was endearing, intimate.

“sit,” you told him softly. he did as you told him, with legs spread but not quite enough to reveal the towel’s contents (though the bulge in the fabric was very hard to miss). once again, his free hand came up to touch you, stroking the plush of your thigh and admiring you with impatience.

“you’re pretty,” he said, and somehow it made your heart swell. his tone was so genuine, so identical to the way he’d tell you “your shoe’s untied,” or “i can walk you home.” his tone reiterated how you’d never once felt uncomfortable around the boy, not even now as you stood on the verge of a huge decision. it was just eren. there was no hesitation or weirdness. you couldn’t express in words how much you appreciated it, so instead you grinned and hooked you fingers in the waistband of your sleep shorts, slowly sliding them down your legs.

eren leaned back to give you room. despite wanting you to strip, he couldn’t wait it out, pulling you in by one hand and splaying it in the exact place where your back arches. he buried his nose close to your navel and you careened into him with your hands burying in his hair. “so pretty,” he murmured, exploring your skin. he squeezed at the back of your thighs, and grazed your ass, making eye contact with you for any sign of hesitation before he kneaded the fatty flash in his hand. he groaned into you, forehead on your stomach as he felt as much of you as he could.

“eren,” you breathed. you didn’t know what you wanted of him or what you wanted to say, but he seemed to understand anyway. he pushed up the bottom of the hoodie to plant kisses just above the waistband of your black panties--he had to keep from focusing on the darkened spot at the bottom of the panties or he’d surely cum in his towel.

you whined at the kisses and at the way they felt so much and not even close to enough all at once. his breath was hot and lips and tongue wet as they travelled up. impatiently, you unzipped the rest of the hoodie and took it from eren’s grip to let it slide off your arms. he pulled back just enough to look your black panty and bra set clad body up and down with heavy eyes. the way his mouth hung open almost primitively told you he wanted this just as much as you.

“fuck.” the single word sent vibrations straight down to your cunt. and then he brought you in again to suck at any bit of skin he could reach. he groped at your ass more before moving to your tits, and you took the hint to unclasp your bra. it was gone in a moment, and finally, eren tugged at your hand to bring you down on his lap. he adjusted the towel so that it would cover him without needing a hand but in such a way that the slightest jostle would expose him. you straddled his thighs with a knee bent on either side of the bed, and with his other hand finally free, eren gripped both ass cheeks and pulled you in to lick a long stripe along one of your tits. you couldn’t hold back the moan, practically lurching it forward and letting it burst in his ear. he rutted up into your clothed pussy at the noise. his mouth latched around one nipple and suckled like a starving man, earning more pretty sounds from you as you gripped the hair at his scalp in the most delicious way. he switched to the other breast, hands still spreading your cheeks apart and itching so so close to where you needed him.

“eren,” you whined. he knew. he could feel the wet spot on his own towel now.

“mmm...talk to me,” he said into the fat of your chest. “what do you want?” he would hardly restrain himself. his dick practically ached with need, but still his utter adoration at the way your eyes screwed shut was enough to get him to take his time. “whatever you want, i’ll do it.”

his words alone had you grinding down onto him. “need you...” you said in a too-high voice, mouth close to his ear. eren’s pace didn’t change. still there was an air of expectation. “need you inside me.” you felt him breathe a deep sigh underneath you, and you could swear you felt him twitch in the towel.

“okay. okay, baby.”

he gently pushed you back, one hand still on your behind to keep you steady, the other one coming to finally move aside his towel. upon seeing his cock spring forward, you couldn’t understand how he could’ve managed to keep it tented under there for so long.

“oh, god,” you breathed. you rested the crown of your head in the crook of his neck with your head titled down to awe at his blushing tip that leaked precum. he stroked himself a few times.

“you okay?” he asked, voice strained but somehow still soft with concern. you nodded eagerly, shimmying back up his thighs. it took both of your hands and one of his to push your panties to the side and line him up with your sopping entrance. the contact made you both suck in a breath, and eren leaned back just slightly to let you inch your way down whenever you were ready.

you sunk down painfully slow onto his head, and eren grunted harshly. his hands gripped the sheets behind him to keep from rutting up into you. your hands came forward to seek purchase on his shoulders. how could he feel this good already when you’d barely gotten past the head? he was already nudging oh so gently on your g-spot, and you had to steel yourself for a moment before sinking down with more confidence. you and eren moaned in unison at the sudden movement, and the burning stretch he gave you felt unreal. you were trying to bottom out, and he was trying to be patient, but the way you were sucking at him was pushing his resolve.

“y/n...” he breathed. you hummed in understanding, and finally, you brought yourself down to touch his thighs to yours. you yelped lightly and leaned into him to take a second. “ah...doing good. take your time, pretty girl.” eren’s arms brought you into an embrace, and the lack of movement allowed him time to stave off his climax and allowed you time to get used to the way he was splitting you open. before long, you were able to wiggle your hips and sway back and forth. eren hummed deeply, helping you pull your hips up before bringing you back down. in a moment, you were doing it all on your own, and he watched how he would disappear over and over again into your leaking hole and the way your tits bounced and your mouth formed an ‘o’.

“feel good?” he groaned. you whined and nodded, but eren’s hand gripped your jaw lightly.

“yeah, feels good,” you mumbled airily, concentrating on your movements. eren dragged his thumb over your bottom lip and he couldn’t help himself when he curled it into your mouth and on your tongue. his cock jumped from inside of you when you closed your lips around the digit and began suckling on it needily.

“ohh, good girl.” the squelching sounds combined with the slapping of skin was nothing short of lewd. you bounced yourself up and down on eren’s dick as best as you could, trying to find the angle that smashed your g-spot every time. the soreness in your thighs slowed your movements every little while, and eren didn’t miss the way you whined for more that you couldn’t give yourself.

he gripped at your hips to slow you down before he started pistoning up into your with all the stamina he still hadn’t used. you made a noise just short of a scream and collapsed into his broad chest, but eren was quick to wrap you up. “i got you,” he breathed over and over. the sweat collected on his forehead with the effort of his pace. your moans were nonstop now, stringing into one incoherent babble into his ear that he absolutely adored. your stomach grew hotter and hotter until it felt like it would erupt.

“eren,” you said with urgency. he didn’t need to hear you say it. instead, he brought one hand between the two of you to rub at your clit, and it was all you could take before you practically sobbed into his neck and clenched impossibly tight around him. your arms squeezed him half to death as you saw white, pleasure rippling all over your body in waves.

“y/n, y/n,” you just barely heard eren muttering. his sloppy movements that he brought to a fumbling pace and the way he nudged at your elbows was enough for you to practically melt off his lap, pulling off his cock only to replace it with your mouth within a moment. you sucked at his tip for not five seconds before eren was jerking into your mouth and emitting broken moans, warm cum shooting into your throat. you suckled at him gently to work him through the high, collecting every drop before cleaning him off. you pulled away carefully, and eren watched as you gulped down his cum before smiling at him. he shook his head in awe.

“c’mere,” but before you could he was pulling you into his body with one hand. he brought you with him as he let his back hit the mattress. you took a few moments to catch your breaths before either of you spoke.

“okay?” you asked him. eren reached an arm up to pull down his comforter and fit it messily on top of your naked bodies. his hands came to your waist and wrapped around you as tight as they could. finally, he leaned down to kiss at your hairline a few times before laying back with a sigh.

“okay.”

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mymedlife · 3 years ago

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Guys, the pandemic has broken me. Every time we seem to be making any progress I feel like we get set back again.

Sorry for the long rant ahead, but I feel like I need to get it out of my head.

Back in the beginning, last March or so, when the state I'm living in shut down, I felt like I could do it. Daycare shut down for almost 3 months to prevent spread.

My husband's job changed his hours to 10a to 8p since everyone was working remotely so they could all be working on the same time zone.

My cofellows were generous enough to switch shifts so I could work all nights and weekends and watch my kiddo during the day. Which kind of sucked, because she doesn't play independently for very long, o was tired, hubby wanted it quiet, and everything was closed so there wasn't anywhere to go to break up the monotony.

Work was filled with frequent changes around what protective equipment we have and what is required to be worn where. I got fitted for 3 different N95s because we kept running out, despite having to check them out and have them sterilized between uses.

I had frequent discussions about how COVID is real with families who refused testing. Parents lied about their symptoms to be allowed into the hospital with their kids, including one who collapsed mid visit due to respiratory failure. Several people ended up having to quarantine because they weren't wearing their N95s during the resuscitation as it was unexpected (at the time we were only wearing N95s during aerosolizing procedures including bagging). This lead to a new rule on not stopping in to help until you have the proper equipment on (which makes sense, but but is so hard).

Early on I spent some time volunteering for the COVID hotline for my state. Most of the questions I got were people upset that things were closing. There were very few health calls.

My aunt died. My sister, a psychologist, argued with her boss she should get a raise for being a frontline worker. My other sister, who is immunocompromised, was mad that all her friends continued to party guilt free and we kept telling her to stay home. My husband began to enjoy his new schedule to the point that he would stay up until 3am playing games after work (the kid was asleep and I was working) and sleep until he had to work at 10 am. My friends talked about their new lock down hobbies, including my co fellow who spent her time creating a new lecture series for the residents. I felt like I was trending water, I started getting behind on fellowship things and I was so tired. My kiddo was happy that I was spending more time with her, and it all was temporary, right?

Eventually things started opening up again. Daycare returned. Two days later my husband was fired. Thankfully he found a job within a few months, but during that time was quick to anger and his staying up all night playing games and sleeping most of the day got worse. He dismissed anything I had to say about it and frequently promised to sleep earlier, later saying he had to stay up because the kid had a nightmare that I slept through.

During this time, many of my pediatrician friends were called to see adults due to high patient volumes and doctor shortages. Luckily I only had to see kids, but there was still a lot of mystery surrounding symptoms and the discovery of the multi system inflammatory syndrome.

My kiddo got sent home a few times from daycare for vague symptoms that necessitated a COVID test, and at one point she was at home with me for 2 weeks due to a COVID positive exposure in class. My husband's job was new so he couldn't take off time to help. At some point things shifted so I was now doing all the daycare pickup and drop-off as well as all the bedtimes (unless I was physically at work).

Following Breonna Taylor and George Floyd there were large scale protests around the downtown area, where my hospital is located. I wholeheartedly support the movement, but someone told my kid it was dangerous to go downtown, and she became fearful of me going to work. This combined with the break in at our home lead to sleep refusal. Something I had to help he with, leading to bedtime taking hours, because my husband would yell at her. Most nights I was too tired after getting her to bed to do much, which lead to more work piling up.

Job hunting was not as fun as I had hoped it would had been. I had one in person interview, everything else was virtual. Thinking about working at a place I've never seen was terrifying.

Many places simply ghosted me. Lots weren't hiring. A few went on a hiring freeze after my interview.

Every interview asked what hobby I developed during lockdown. I admittedly could have answered this question better, and explained that I survived the lockdown with a toddler and that was an accomplishment.

My home institution decided to go with my co fellow over me. When I asked my mentor why she said they felt she had more to contribute to medical education than I do. I'm convinced that in part this has to do with all the lectures she wrote during lockdown.

I was able to get a job, but it's at a smaller community ED where we have a few beds in an adult ED. I mentioned to my associated program director I was a little disappointed, and suddenly everyone is telling me to be thankful for what I have.

I can be thankful and disappointed at the same time.

I think the biggest thing is a fear that if I hate this job I wont ever be able to find another one.

I also kind of resent my kid and husband, if I had more support or time to focus on fellowship things may have been different.

But life goes on. The vaccine was created, things opened up, and now those who aren't vaccinated can stop masking.

The my body my choice people who previously refused to mask are pleased, and now there are barely any masks when I go out (despite a not great vaccination rate in my area).

My kid is 3 and cant get the vaccine, so we still wear them. She loves to whine about how the others don't wear their masks. "It's not fair."

No, it really isn't.

Masks are still required in the hospital, which parents complain about daily. Recently every time I recommend a COVID test it has been refused. The pandemic is over. Kids can't get COVID. And other nonsense.

Kids as young as 12 can get vaccinated. However there is real concern about post vaccine myocarditis. Now everyone who comes in with chest pain wants to complain, even if they are unvaccinated.

Things have been stressful, and my kid is picking up on that. She still has trouble sleeping and has started having tantrums. We recently had a meeting with daycare and they want us to have seen by psych to get her evaluated.

I've found that I've lost interest in most of my hobbies, not that I have a lot of time for them. Fellowship finished and I have the next two weeks off before starting my new job. I was planning on spending it sleeping, cleaning the house, getting out the baby stuff as we are expecting a new little one in a couple of months, and rediscovering my hobbies.

Today I had an awful migraine. I cant take the meds I usually take because of the pregnancy, and my OB wont prescribe anything because he is worried about masking signs of preeclampsia. My husband refused to get up to watch the kid because he was tired, so I pushed through until he was ready to get up.

I lay down to try to get a nap and I get a call that there has been a case of COVID at daycare, and they will be closing for 2 weeks. They will open up the day I start my new job.

And this my friends is what has broken me.

I was so looking forward to finally have time for self care, and now I get to play stay at home mom again with my kid who is in isolation.

After that call I got up and left the house. I'm sitting in my car at the park writing this, and while I know I will go back home eventually, I'm tempted to drive off and let my husband deal with this for a change.

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gureishi · 4 years ago

Note

#6 Saeyoung / fm. Can it be kind of angsty with a good amount of nsfw please thank you

Your wish is my command! But for real though, I got a little carried away with this one because I just loved the scenario too much. Don’t raise the bar for me, y’all—these won’t all be this long! (Maybe. Unless they are. Who knows.)

six: just cause you don’t know what to say

SaeyoungXReader, M (sex!), words: 2846

Warning: this is NSFW! Don’t proceed if you don’t wanna read smut, pls~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

He’s hurt again.

Why is he always…

You thought you’d never have to see it again: Vanderwood delivering him to you unceremoniously, his shoulder bandaged; him limping toward you, holding out his good arm hopefully as if expecting you to run to him.

But here you are again. You stand in the garage, arms crossed over your chest. His expression falters as he takes in your posture—you’re certainly not leaping into his arms.

“H-hi babe!” He plays dumb, tries a big smile. You can see cuts and bruises on his face, and you don’t miss the way he winces as he gives you what he clearly thinks is an enthusiastic wave. You don’t move. He says your name, a little more quietly, a little more tentatively.

You force yourself to take a deep breath—in and out. You want to yell, to launch yourself at him and hit his stupid, beautiful face and make him swear never to leave you again.

“Where were you?” you ask instead, keeping your voice as level as you can. You don’t do a great job—he visibly recoils and you see Vanderwood already trying to slink off into the shadows.

Saeyoung takes another step toward you and you hold up a hand to stop him. There’s a pained look in his eyes, and you don’t think it’s from the injuries.

“You told me you were going to look at some files,” you say, hearing how cold your voice sounds, seeing the way it wounds him. “Did the files bite you?”

He tries to laugh and winces again and you almost take pity on him. He’s shivering a little—it’s cold in the garage, colder outside, and he’s in a t-shirt. Someone (presumably Vanderwood) has ripped off one of the sleeves to bandage up his shoulder.

Vanderwood has almost disappeared at this point—they’ve made it to the garage door, clearly hoping to dodge your wrath.

“Hey!” You point at them they jump, standing up stick straight. It would be almost comical, if not for the situation. “So what was the plan, then? Bring him along on some stupid half-baked money-grabbing mission and just hope I’d be able to track your bodies down if you got killed?”

Vanderwood’s expression softens, just a little. You realize there are tears in your eyes and you wipe them away furiously.

“I swear to god I thought it was going to be an easy one or I wouldn’t have brought him,” Vanderwood says in their calmest, most placating voice.

“Did you know he lied to me?”

Vanderwood slowly shakes their head. “To be fair, I didn’t ask.”

“Fine.” Clearly taking this as a dismissal, they duck their head and slip into the front seat of the car they’ve left running in the driveway. You hesitate, then: “Vanderwood?” They freeze again, turn to face you. “Are you hurt?”

Again, you see warmth in their eyes—just for a moment, and then it’s gone. They look between you and Saeyoung, who’s still standing stock-still in the middle of the garage as if waiting for instructions.

“I’m fine,” Vanderwood says.

“And does he need to go to the hospital?” You’re not messing around; if it were up to Saeyoung, he’d try and mend a broken bone himself.

“No,” Vanderwood says firmly. “Flesh wounds.” You raise your eyebrows as if to say really? and they nod. “This is nothing for him. Give him a day, maybe, and he’ll be back to normal.”

Without giving you the chance to ask anything else, Vanderwood gives you a little salute and revs the engine. You look down at the pavement, pushing back your tears by sheer force of will. You wail till their car is out of sight before addressing Saeyoung again.

“If they say you’re fine, then fine,” you say, and you turn on your heel and stalk back to the bunker—you’ve left the door hanging open, and the cold air is getting in.

Saeyoung still doesn’t move.

“A-are you going to let me inside?” he asks in a small voice. For a moment, you want to tell him no. You want to lock yourself up in his huge empty house (Saeran is out, at a doctor’s appointment, so you really would be alone), leave him there, make him wait until you’re ready to forgive him.

But you don’t do this—of course you don’t.

“Come in, then.”

You leave the door open for him and slip out of your shoes, kicking them against the wall with perhaps slightly too much fervor. He follows you, so slowly, so quietly, like he’s afraid to make a sound. Again, you feel a twinge of guilt. You wonder if it’s too late to go back, to forget it all, to wrap him up in your arms and kiss his bruises and reassure him that he’s safe.

Not yet.

He follows you, silently, down the hall and into the living room. You cross your arms again and face him. He looks so pitiful. Don’t give in.

“Saeyoung, tell me why you lied to me.”

He fidgets, like he always does when he’s nervous. He taps out a pattern on his leg with one hand; his injured arm hangs limply at his other side.

“I don’t know,” he says finally, almost inaudibly. There’s a dark, hollow look in his eyes, like he’s receding into himself.

“Hey.” Finally—finally—you move closer, and he flinches when you reach for him. You run a gentle finger along a new cut on his cheek, which intersects with an old scar. “You put me through about eight hours of torture, wondering where you were and if you were even alive, after I finally figured out you weren’t just ‘looking at files’ at Vanderwood’s house. You owe me an explanation.”

He swallows; his throat is dry. “It’s the only thing I know how to do,” he says in that same toneless voice. You sigh loudly. There are a million emotions battling inside you: you want to scold him; you want to check his wounds and re-dress them; you want to scream at him; you want to hold him.

“Sit,” you say. He sits on the couch, a little stiffly, and you go to the kitchen, get him a glass of water. You know enough about the kinds of missions he used to go on for the agency to understand more or less what he’s been doing for the last day. “I thought the agency didn’t exist anymore,” you say, returning to him; he takes the water gratefully and drinks it all, a little too fast.

“It doesn’t,” he says. “This was, um. Somebody Vanderwood owed a favor to. I think they just want…a clean slate.”

“And?” You perch on your knees beside him. You don’t have to forgive him, but you do have to see what’s going on with his shoulder. He flinches, inhaling sharply, as your fingers graze the bandage.

“It’s done,” he says hoarsely. He hesitantly takes your hand off his arm and clutches it tightly in his own. “I’m—I’m really sorry I lied to you,” he stammers. “I shouldn’t’ve done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You slip your hand out of his grasp, return to the bandages. He tries his best to sit still as you unwrap them. Vanderwood was right—the wound is already healing. You’ve seen him with much, much worse.

You leave him again, gather the supples you need. When you’d first moved into the bunker, it was bare—he had no food to speak of, minimal personal possessions. Even then, though, he had first aid supplies: enough to stock several small hospitals.

You sit cross-legged on the couch, and he’s quiet as you clean the deep cuts in his shoulder and arm, as you wrap them with fresh bandages. You don’t ask how he got these particular injuries, and he doesn’t volunteer the information.

Finally, you stand, eyeing your work. You’ve done a pretty good job.

“Now take off your clothes.”

His eyes, which had been half-lidded as you worked—he’s exhausted, you can see it written in every line on his face—shoot open. Wide open. He laughs nervously.

“Umm, d-does that mean you forgive me?”

He’s blushing. Oh god.

“Of course not,” you say, too loudly. The back of your neck feels hot. “I need to see where else you’re hurt, idiot.”

“R-right.” He looks crestfallen and you almost laugh, almost bend down and press a searing kiss to his cute lips, dry and cracked as they are. But you don’t.

“I’m serious.”

He gulps and tugs off his shirt. It gets stuck on his head due to a combination of his bandaged shoulder and the one roughly torn-off sleeve. He struggles a little and it’s so adorable and sad that you can’t stand it, so you help him.

“Thanks,” he says in a low voice. The shirt is off.

“Shit, Saeyoung…”

His shoulder is the worst of it, but there are little cuts and bruises everywhere. A dark bruise, already purpling, runs up his side. You touch it as gently as you can and he shivers.

“Does it hurt?”

“N-not exactly…”

You feel his eyes boring into you and when you look up you can’t help but shudder—there’s a very familiar dazed, needy look on his face.

“Babe, not right now…!” The pet name slips out before you can stop yourself. You feel yourself melting a little, scorched by his gaze.

“I’m so sorry I lied,” he whispers and he makes his voice sound husky in a way he knows always sends a shiver up your spine. “I won’t do it again.”

Oh god.

Tentatively, he runs one hand down your side, skating over your hip. Fuck.

“Will you promise me never to do that again?” you ask him, trying to keep your voice stern—but it still comes out breathy and desperate.

“I swear,” he says. He’s getting more confident, bolstered by the yearning you can’t keep out of your voice. God, how you’d missed him. His slips his hand under your shirt, skating up your ribcage. You let him.

“What do you swear?” you ask. He takes your hips in both hands then and tugs you roughly onto his lap. You wriggle, straddling him, and he gasps, closing his eyes and tilting his head back.

“T-to never lie to you again,” he says. His hips are shaking. “To not do stuff that might get me killed anymore.”

“Even if Vanderwood asks you to?” He moans softly as you grind your hips against him; realizing you have all the power, you fumble with the button of his pants—unhook it, undo the zipper.

“No matter who asks m-me—ahhhh.”

You palm him through his boxers and he moans, wriggling beneath you. You take his good hand in yours and guide it to your leg, up your thigh, under your skirt, around your hip. You brush a hand over him again, feeling the way he’s straining against his underwear.

“And you’re really, really, really sorry?” you ask. You grind your hips against his erection and he mumbles something incoherent. He’s got a death grip on your thigh.

“What was that?”

“I-I…yeah, I…d-don’t know what else to say…” he mutters. You flutter your hips back and forth and feel his legs shuddering beneath you.

“Then don’t,” you say firmly. “Just touch me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand springs to action, trailing up your inner thigh and ghosting over your already-wet underwear.

“Don’t tease me right now,” you say. He audibly gulps and then moves one calloused finger over your clit, through your underwear. You see sparks and your vision goes blurry. There’s a burning heat inside of you now—you feel swollen and needy.

He flicks his finger over you again, falling into a rhythm. He’s gentle yet persistent. You scrunch your eyes shut and fireworks burst behind your closed eyelids and you have to grab the couch for purchase, avoiding his hurt shoulder. Your toes curl.

“Goddammit, Saeyoung…!” you whimper, and he moves faster, stirring the burning, blinding feeling inside you. You can’t help the way your hips are shaking and you can tell it’s driving him mad, too; he moans, deep and low, as you brush against his trapped erection again, and the sweet sound tears you open.

It’s as if you’re floating just above your body, watching from outside yourself. You feel the warm ocean of sensations cascading around you; you see yourself from above as your eyes fly open, your arms trembling, barely holding you up as you crest into him.

The feeling recedes in bits and pieces, trickling away, and you pant as you come down.

“Th-that was so hot,” he whispers. His eyes are dark, his pupils huge; through both of your underwear, you feel him twitch.

“I’ve never come quite like that before,” you murmur, inches from his lips; and then you kiss him, searing hot like the longing you felt when he was gone, hard like the way you wanted to hit him when you saw he’d gotten himself hurt again.

There’s a moment—a brief, flickering moment—when you think about sliding off his lap and walking away, leaving him trembling and desperate. You could.

But you want to feel him inside you too badly—want to see the look of utter relief and release on his sweet, bruised face.

You slip from his lap and tear your underwear off, not bothering with the rest of your clothes. He gazes up at you, adoringly, as if waiting for confirmation that you’re going to allow him the satisfaction he so desperately craves.

You bend over him and slip his boxers down; he sighs with relief as he springs free of the constraining fabric.

“Stay still.”

You straddle him again and brush against his tip, just barely touching. Another little spark bursts behind your eyes.

“P-please…” he whispers, and you see he’s long gone already; he looks almost drunk, his eyes unfocused.

So you oblige him. You slide onto him, sinking him deep into you, and moans a string of incoherent syllables. You lift up your hips, using the couch for support, avoiding his hurt arm, the cuts on his chest.

He’s unraveling before your eyes and it’s beautiful to watch. You slide your hips up and back, down and forward, slowly and then faster, faster, and he whimpers, and you feel a little shudder deep inside you as he thrusts back against, pushing himself deeper. He’s gasping for air and you clench your thighs around his hips and take control again, moving in a figure-eight, excruciatingly slow.

He groans and suddenly his arm is around your waist and, in an instant, you’re on your back on the couch, his face hovering over yours. Then he’s inside you again and the thrill of the moment gets to you and you moan along with him, clutching desperately at the fabric of the couch.

“S-Saeyoung, your arm—” you gasp. He holds up his injured arm and wiggles it in the air, showing you that it’s safe, and you laugh, clenching as he thrusts into you, and he’s completely undone.

He closes his eyes as he comes, head thrown back, and you skate your fingers over the exposed skin of his neck.

Eventually, he stills, panting—he lowers himself, collapsing against your chest. You wrap your arms all the way around him and nuzzle your face into his hair.

“So,” you say softly. “Was that your way of distracting me from scolding you?” He opens one golden eye and peers up at you.

“Did it work?”

“Saeyoung!”

“Ahhh! Sorry!”

You playfully bat at him and he rolls off of you, pulling himself up, running a hand through his sweaty, messy hair. His eyes are clear now.

“You can’t use sex to get me to forgive you whenever you do something bad, you know,” you tell him.

He waggles his eyebrows at you. “Can’t I?”

“No!”

“I know.” He sounds serious now, and he carefully knees beside you, taking your hand. “I am genuinely sorry I lied to you,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “I am sorry I got myself in another dangerous situation and made you worry. I promise not to do it again.”

“Good,” you say. You press little kisses to each of his calloused fingertips. “Now go change and get emotionally prepared because Saeran’s going to be home soon and he’ll be even madder at you than I was.”

Saeyoung yelps, shoots up from the couch, winces, and stumbles to the bedroom, pants still bunched around his thighs.

You’re serious about the promise—you mean to hold him to it. But it’s so hard to stay mad at him, you think, stretching and collecting your underwear from where it’s gotten wedged between two couch cushions. He’s just too easy to forgive.

#mystic messenger #mysticmessenger #mysme #mm #request #gureishi writes requests #otomefoxystar #saeyoung choi #707 #saeyoungxreader #707xreader #spicy spaceship

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prorevenge · 4 years ago

Text

Bridezilla Karen ends up looking like a pauper at her own wedding.

I (F48) have known “Pat” (F48) for decades. As far as I can remember, she was fixated on having 5 children and a picket fence dream life. I slowly cut ties with her in college because she was an opportunist and I didn’t trust her. She is both manipulative and forceful. Her idea of cute rubs me the wrong way. Pat likes to walk like a penguin when she wants to elicit pity, and she usually does this when she wants to evoke the underdog narrative. I’ve never seen someone act so despicable and ridiculous at the same time.

I moved on with my life. Happily got rid of her for years. Pat eventually found me on facebook. I accepted her friend request out of politeness.

Pat has become the epitome of a permissive mother. Her (5) kids do as they please and she never calls them out. She tried to force a relationship between me and her daughters and made them call me Auntie. Pat tried to drop them at my house uninvited. Her phone calls were insistent, she tried to monopolize my time and she began to show up at my job. I created some boundaries so she tried to find loopholes. It was a nightmare.

My husband and I hosted a party for the community center (not the real name) new members. The community center is actually a very informal initiative and my husband and I mainly serve the homeless population. We prefer to help strangers instead of catering to potentially narcissistic acquaintances. We don't mind lending a hand but we have encountered truly dishonest choosing beggars.

There are other services, like one of the members who helps women get their wedding and prom dresses for free.The community center location “headquarters” is actually a farm owned by an elderly couple. There is a barn, a venue and a very nice green field with an artificial lake and some fowl. They charge for the use of their facilities (weddings , etc.) but not for community oriented stuff.

Pat had always been salty at her husband for demanding that she go back to work after baby #3. In the meantime, he worked three jobs. She demanded he get her pregnant to fulfill her dream of having 5 kids. He didn’t agree, because he was already nearly 45 and felt like he might never be able to retire. She got away with bringing new babies into this world anyway. Her fascination with being pregnant comes from all the attention she gets. She had at least one miscarriage in between each kid.

Pat latched on to our group. She never missed any of our activities. I hated having her in my house, but it was an open invitation that included virtually everyone and she was very active as an event organizer. I didn’t like the way her kids behaved. We have a designated area for parties and entertainment, but her kids ended up inside my bedroom. We ended up having to keep watch of them and enjoyed zero of our own party.

I called her days later to get my point across (regarding their overall behavior) but she completely cut me off and began talking about herself and said her kids wanted to come visit again and use our pool. I never answered that. I didn't want to say “no, I will not have your brats over”.

She also called me as summer was approaching specifically to let me know her middle daughter was bored and wanted to spend a WEEK at our home. I politely declined, citing that me and my husband have to work and cannot entertain guests. .

Pat paid no heed. Her kid called me on the weekend,calling me “auntie” and attempted to coax me by saying “Mom says you invited me to spend SUMMER with you”. I quickly clarified, and offered an explanation to avoid hurting a kid’s self esteem. Nevermind. Her daughter just hung up on me.

Pat’s facebook also showed some red flags. Some cryptic rants here and there were visible, along with friends’ comments and complaints on how she asked a particular person to watch her kids only for a couple of hours and ended up leaving them all day. Another of her friends criticized her “girls night out “ because Pat had just asked them to be patient and wait until she could pay back some money that she owed them, yet she had money to spend on Friday night outings. I thought those very public comments on private matters were more like a cry of lost patience.

Unpleasant things began to happen. Like the time she volunteered to wrap the Xmas presents for underprivileged kids. We all wanted to create a mix of less costly gifts with really nice ones. Surprisingly, some nice and eye-catching toys and games went missing but turned up under her Christmas Tree (courtesy of her mother in law’s FB posts). No one could prove anything but it was hate-inducing. Or the time my daughter called me in tears to pick her up after she attended Pat’s daughter’s birthday (Casey). My daughter had been ignored all night because she didn’t gift her the expensive gaming stuff Casey practically demanded. My daughter did ask, but I said no. We would buy her a very nice and thoughtful present according to her taste. So when I went to pick her up my daughter was sitting alone in the living room while Casey and her friends stayed outside.

Stories about Pat and her family multiplied. The owners at the farm (community center) decided keep their their gates locked unless they had guests or events because Pat got in the habit of driving in whenever she pleased and it was either her kids screaming and disturbing on-going weddings, throwing rocks at the koi in the lake or harassing the geese in the yard. Or how she stiffed another soccer mom with the lunch bill and then pulled the struggling financially card. Or how other parents hated her because she created unnecessary hostile competition.

When my daughter turned 13, I allowed her to wear my grandma’s ring. It's not an expensive piece of jewelry, but it's vintage and girls nowadays wanna look boho. My Granny gave it to me when I became a teenager so I passed it on to my kid so she could wear it on her birthweek.

It was weird that she became quiet and distracted after that. She also didn’t want to go to school and my husband and I became suspicious. She never opened up, and my other kids had no clue.

We went to her school but her teachers assured us nothing had changed in her environment. My husband and I suspected she was being bullied but our kid gave us no tools to support her. My kid is very sunny, and very compassionate. She has never had any problems with other kids. I called her best friend’s mom. Natalie, my kid’s BFF, told us what was going on. Casey (Pat’s eldest) and my daughter had become “close”. I knew this and wasn’t too thrilled. I found the age (Casey was 17) gap not exactly inappropriate but I’d rather see my daughter spend time with friends in the same age range. Casey is very beautiful and a gifted student. She is also very conceited. To make this story short, she asked my daughter if she could try on the ring and refused to give it back. She later claimed that she lost it but “would look for it” so my daughter was distraught. My daughter kept asking for her ring and as a result, Casey shunned her and spread the word that my kid was trying to steal HER ring. Some kids at school took Casey’s side. So now Casey just wore my kid’s jewelry to school like nothing happened. If that doesn’t qualify as taunting I don't know what does.

My guilt comes from not being able to get my daughter to open up and feel safe telling me the truth. I talked to her and she burst into tears. I was both pained as a mother and furious that some teenage b!tch was doing this under our noses.

I went straight to Pat’s car after school. I asked to talk as Casey was about to go in. So I grabbed Casey’s hand and asked to see her jewelry. Casey froze and she tried to make a fist, so I became relentless. Casey yelled “Mom!” and Pat struggled to get out of the car. I slid the ring off (Casey has tiny hands and wore the ring on her index finger). First Pat yelled at me. After I confronted her with the engraving on the band (my grandma's maiden name), she argued it was loaned to her daughter by my kid. Then she said she bought it. I paid no heed. I did warn them that I knew Casey had become an abusive friend to my daughter.

Pat called me to tell me off. She said she was trying to raise an assertive young woman and I had just messed that up by being “overbearing”. She never apologized for her thief of a child.

Pat's husband ( Hank) is what can be described as a doormat. Pat wore him down to a knob. He had no choice but to “obey” her to keep the peace. She was a bully who actively withdrew affection when he didn’t follow her wishes, even in public. So she got kids #4 and #5 after a relentless campaign that included leaving him for two months. Her pregnancies were a nuisance because she expected to be treated like the only lady who has even been pregnant. She strolled around in a wheelchair almost immediately after getting pregnant and she would “get very sick” on weekends, so her kids were often sent to friends and family so that she could “rest”.

Pat systematically bullied Hank. She would leave town and take the kids with her. Poor Hank would look distraught, drinking on his porch or just looking really lonely. This is how she got off the hook and was able to leave her job. Hank had virtually no voice, so he struggled to keep the marriage together. Everyone liked him, but hated her equally. Hank loved to talk to other people but seemed concerned that Pat would be upset. Over time, according to my husband, Hank began to show signs of depression and mental distress.

Our friend, Lenah, runs the wedding/prom dress initiative. It's not complicated. Dresses are sourced from donations, ebay, trunk shows, etc. Unusually beautiful dresses are retained so that more than one bride gets to wear them. In some cases, a bride will pay 50 bucks, but most of the time, the dresses are donated to the bride.

Pat was involved in this. Lenah kept her in because they never had any issues and her task was limited to just shipping the dresses out.

Pat decided to renew her vows and her bridezilla Karenzilla attitude became the icing on the cake. For starters, she bullied another couple into giving up their wedding date at the farm because she “needed her renewal to match her exact wedding date”. They were not impressed with her harassment, so they booked another venue. As a result, the farm owners were pissed because Pat was already costing them money after she had successfully negotiated a cut in their rate “because she couldn't afford it but will repay by doing maintenance work around the venue” (she never made good on her word).

Pat became attached to a particular dress that was already assigned to another bride. Lenah made it clear that she would need to pay for her own dress. So Pat played it cool and shipped the wrong gown instead. She was adamant that it was the right dress, despite all the notes on Leah’s agenda. The other bride was truly gracious about it. She was obviously disappointed, but never made a scene.

What bothered me most is that I picked that dress and bought it for 40 bucks at a garage sale (not my money, Leah’s money). It was a vintage dress, ankle length, white with lots of lace and a huge bargain. Again, when confronted, Pat “did a Casey” and used the “this is mine” strategy. We felt so bad for the other bride that we did our best to get her something nice to wear. The other bride was a true fighter, she had pulled out of welfare, earned her high school diploma and was working to get on her feet by trying to earn a certificate as an acrylic nail technician. So, her reward was to have some Karen steal her dress? Pat never admitted to messing up, but just by the fact that she claimed it was her dress, we knew.

Lenah never allowed her in her warehouse again. Their last phone fight ended with Pat bringing up the other bride’s past (like it mattered) and “this conversation is over, it's my dress and you are mistaken”. That was weeks before the other bride’s wedding.

Pat went all out on her wedding decor. She spent way too much. She hired a caterer for some food (mainly mimosas and appetizers), but the wedding invitation included a request for specific dishes for her Sunday brunch wedding. Either she ran out of banquet money or was on a complete moocher mode.I picture the penguin walking upon practically asking everyone to supply her wedding reception grub and I cringe.

There is nothing wrong with potluck weddings. In fact, they can be a nice addition to a very cozy and family oriented wedding reception. But, don’t you need to at least be close to your guests in order to ask for such a thing? Even I got an invitation. I told everyone I wasn’t going because I was very uncomfortable being told what to bring and was probably expected to give them a cash gift on top of that. Some of the older ladies in our group agreed. Some said they would not decline in advance because she is a bully and they didn’t want a confrontation.

Lenah called me the night before Pat’s re-wedding. Lenah was there to close the Saturday night bingo and Pat was awfully friendly, but that’s what she does whenever things are going her way. Lenah peeked into the garment bag and saw the exact same dress while Pat was caught up supervising the wedding decoration.

The thing with Karens is that they expect everyone to suck it up, or make their dreams come true, or they simply underestimate everyone and think we are all fools.

Lenah is a very straightforward person with a “so sue me” attitude. She told me she would just ruin the dress. After all, it was hers, so she could do whatever she wanted. If Pat wanted to take legal action, and should things get ugly, she needed to prove ownership. However, the dress was the same, the marks inside the hem and the tags were the same. Even the tag numbers that were punched to identify each dress for logistics purposes matched.

Pat had the dress altered, with some extra beading and dyed to a deep cream color. But it was obviously the same garment. Lenah and I snuck in before the venue was closed for the night. All brides are allowed to stay in a small bedroom for a small charge, so that they don’t need to drive in on their wedding day. Honestly, the makeshift chapel was gorgeous, I don’t know how she paid for it but it was full of flowers and presumptuous details. I naively brought in some ink to spill on the dress, but Lenah said she wanted “something more awful, like a nasty surprise”. Ink would be too obvious and if she saw it ahead, she may be able to snag another gown from somewhere. No, the ideal thing was to have her trust the dress was fine. So Lenah locked herself in a bathroom stall and completely cut out the back panel. She patiently put it back on its hanger and zipped the bag. We left through the emergency door with the back of the dress stuffed inside Lenah's purse. I completely hate people who target and steal from anyone they (Pat and her kid) calculate to be in a weaker position.

The wedding was scheduled at 9 AM. Pat called me at 7 AM, but I ignored her calls. I picked up by 8 AM, both curious and wondering if she suspected anything. Pat was frantic.She was crying that her dress was “missing by half”. I purposely made her explain, being annoyingly dense and continually interrupting like she does, and stalling the conversation. She asked me if I could lend her my wedding dress. I said no, sorry. She then asked me if I would help her get a dress. I was satisfied to remind her that the town's bridal shops were closed on Sunday and the others that would open were almost an hour away. The farm is already almost one hour away from our town.

If Pat could get a shop to rent a dress, she would need to try the dress on, and get it steamed. Even if the dress was ready to wear, it would easily take more than two hours (roundtrip). She tried to ask me to go pick a dress (who would pay for this??). Even if a shop were open and brought her a dress, it would add to the cost. Also, these shops open at 10 or 9:30 at earliest. By time they got to her, it would be time to wrap up the wedding because she needed to clear the venue by 12:00 for the next event.

She broke down and mumbled some stupid stuff I didn't understand. So Pat hung up on me and called Lenah instead.. She asked Lenah to bring her “anything she had available”. Lenah and I ended up delivering the most outdated, moss smelling, oversized dressed. Pat’s disappointment was a mix between angry and emotional. She also tried to wear her knee length silk bridal slip as a wedding dress but it was too obvious and it really looked cheap. She tried to get her daughter to give her her own dress to wear with an open back zipper (due to fitting issues) but Casey refused, asking if she was supposed to attend the wedding naked (she got a point, plus Casey is petite).

The dress needed a petticoat to plump up the skirt, which wasn’t available. So it dragged all over the floor and Pat had to keep pulling it up. Pat walked down the aisle with one hand on her bouquet and another one grabbing her dress. The dress looked limp and weird with the arrangements of pins (they didn’t show) that caused the sleeves and neckline to pucker into messy rims. She spent the ceremony looking uncomfortable and out of place. Very few people attended but that was not part of any revenge, that was just how people reacted to her entitled attitude.

The dress looked awful. The reception portion of the wedding had all this princely decoration, a very nice cake and a bridezilla with a dress from hell. I didn’t stay, but I was told, she was so disappointed she spent her wedding sulking. There was no dance, no actual speech. She had to change into a shirt and leggings because the dress was too uncomfortable. Everyone talked about how Pat put on her flip flops and walked around aimlessly until she ordered the ushers to start folding up the chairs within one hour of the reception. So she practically kicked everyone out and the cake was never cut.

Pat wasn’t the same after this.She was not as loud and avoided everyone. I think she was disappointed that nobody ran to her rescue, not even her family who came from out of town.

Her husband finally cracked under all the pressure and sought some help. He was slaving away and coming home to clean the house while Pat used her kids as an excuse to spend like crazy. Hank also had to do kid homework because Pat never had time or never had patience. She also refused to get a partime job so her kids could attend an afterschool and get help with their school stuff. Therapy seemed to help Hank because the last time Pat left with her kids, he didn't seem distraught. He would be riding his bicycle and could be seen more relaxed while mowing his lawn. Hank told my husband that he had contemplated suicide after their third kid. When Pat returned, he maintained the routine but was interested in going out by himself and doing things for himself. We began to see Pat alone all the time. Hank was seen less and less in the same car and eventually moved in with his parents. He filed for divorce on the grounds of emotional cruelty and I don't think he won. Instead (I’m not sure of this because this is what I was told) there was some sort of a settlement or agreement that she would not get close or interact with him unless it has to do with the kids).

I also don’t know if Pat even actually suspected who/what happened to her dress. She slowly pulled away from the community center and became less active in social gatherings. Pat also removed me from her facebook as well as mostly everyone else from school and the center.

TLDR

Bridezilla stole a wedding dress from an underprivileged woman. The actual dress owner destroys her big day.

(source) story by (/u/forestcabin123k)

#prorevenge #by /u/forestcabin123k #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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gagmebucky · 4 years ago

Text

hiiii i wrote this awhile ago but took it down because i was 👉🏼👈🏼 embarrassed about it (because i do not have the skill to pull off peter parker) and sorta still am but everyone’s been so nice to me about it i thought the best way to repay the kindness by posting it for those who did like it 😅 (originally inspired by spider man 2 with andrew garfield but loosely set in the 2018 issue of the amazing spider-man.)

in which the guys are making fun of peter and accidentally see a video of him fucking you. (includes avenger!peter x girlfriend!you, peter’s pov, voyeur!steve and voyeur!bucky, a sex tape featuring d/s dynamics, bondage, praise kink, exhibitionism, unprotected sex.)

do not repost.

—

Despite being twenty-one years old; a proper adult who lives with his high school sweetheart, a photographer doubling as a seven-year veteran vigilante in the dangers of New York, Peter Parker is still considered as a super-powered amateur to his seasoned peers.

Nonetheless, given his success in countless battles in the state, country, world and even galaxy-wide, he more than qualifies to hold the title of Avenger; it’s official now. A laid-back induction ceremony and his very own identity card: a sturdy rectangle, shiny with full clearance and all. Yet, as an official member, his teammates still treat him like he’s that same goofy, out-of-his-depths sixteen year old.

To be fair, yes, his style of heroism isn’t the most serious. He favors levity in the face of danger, a cheeky flare with smart quips and an infuriating grin. Even after taking a beating from the worst of foes, his demeanor never wavers because in the end, he wins. The villains are slayed and the people are saved, even comforted by the boyishly confident way he works.

But beyond that persona, he has grown into a skilled warrior. On that note, he wants to be regarded as such—at least, to a certain extent. The jokes and teasing, poking fun at his age or the shenanigans he gets himself into, don’t bother him. No, his playful wit handles it with relative ease, and he’s a good sport about it. The only thing that he’d want to see change is some recognition that he isn’t a naïve kid anymore and is fully capable of taking charge when needed.

With his recent acceptance into the gifted pantheon, he’s intent on making that known. The jesting can continue but he wants it to be with an understanding of his capabilities. Luckily, a perfect opportunity has presented itself to showcase his abilities: a training session.

He’s late. And yes, he knows that’s probably not a good impression to make.

In his own defense, it isn’t technically his fault. He forgot that you, his personal alarm clock (amongst other things), left early this morning because you volunteered to help his aunt move. Four years of mornings and nights, he’s gotten used to—and prefers—your languorous wake-up call.

Without your reminder, he regains consciousness fifteen minutes after the scheduled time and ends up scrambling to the compound. In a flurry, he throws on his suit—unknowingly backwards, he realizes later—trips at least three times over his own footing before he finally springs out of the balcony with webbed bursts.

When he reaches his destination, Captain America and the Winter Soldier are unimpressed; mid-simulation, it powers down. Both super-soldiers whirl around to face him, fixing raised eyebrows at his disheveled arrival.

He adjusts his now front-facing suit and shuffles forward into the space with as much confidence as an interrupter can have. “H - hey, guys,” Peter greets sheepishly and manages what he hopes is a charming smile, absentmindedly fidgeting with his phone. “Lookin’ good for a couple of geezers.”

Unfortunately, Steve Rogers is not charmed or disillusioned from the tardiness. “You’re late, Parker.” His arms fold, and he shakes his head when punctuating his disapproval with an echoing, “Again.”

Thankfully, to his right, more relaxed and cool, Bucky Barnes steps up. “C’mon, Stevie. Y’can’t be that surprised,” he chimes in matter of factly, contrasting against his friend with amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. “What’d you expect with Parker?” He gestures at the younger superhero. “Kid’s gonna be late to his own wedding.”

(Beside the point, but worth noting, he will not be late to meeting you at the altar. That is, of course, if you accept when he pops the question. Which is going to happen relatively soon, considering he has the ring in his nightstand drawer.)

The consult seems to relax him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right and—Peter, you—seriously, man?!” Steve sputters the last bit when he glanced over to see him blatantly check the notification that’s vibrated in his hand (on the device that is ruled to be stowed away during training). “Now the phone?!”

Even though he shouldn’t, being on thin ice with Cap and all (pun not intended), Peter’s gaze flickers down to see your contact name appear on the screen, and he can’t resist. While Bucky guffaws a laugh at his audacity, he’s swiping up to pull up your text thread.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:37AM: spider boyyyyy you’ll never guess what i found in a box labeled ‘peter’s junk’ ;;;)

peter, 10:37AM: those magazines are NOT mine and i don’t know how they got there.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: not quite but close, naughty boy

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: for a man who depends on keeping secrets and a penchant for home movies, you might ought to keep a lock on your phone unless you want someone to see me like this...

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: (video attached)

Immediately, he recognizes the pornographic thumbnail. One glance, and he’s remembering the first couple of times you guys explored the exhibitionism side of things. It was at the end of his freshman year of college and taped on a phone he thought he had lost. But he must've forgotten it at his aunt’s house, and she tossed it in the box until you came along.

Although there’s been plenty more made, he recalls that one being a shared favorite, his especially. When long-distance duty calls, it was his go-to media. The angles, your face and body beneath the lights, the sounds it caught, you once asked if he considered switching to cinematography instead of photographer

Subconsciously, his teeth run over his bottom lip, feeling that blazing spark of desire igniting in the pit of his gut, partially at the memory and partially at what’ll happen once you guys can re-watch it together; his thumbs start typing away with that message.

“Peter!” Steve’s exasperated voice snaps, but to no avail—the real gall of the youngster, or the effect of you. His weight shifts toward his best friend, and he nudges him with his elbow. “Kids these days!” The hundred-something year old’s gaze cocks a brow back over. “Is that why you were late? Blowing off training to text your girlfriend?”

The text delivers with an audible bloop. Finally, his concentration gives, and he can look up, though his expression is clueless from the last minute. “Huh?” His brain registers what he missed, and he winces. “Sorry, Cap. My bad.”

Bucky chuckles. “Give him a break, Steve,” he faux comes to his defense, a teasing quality underlying his tone. “He’s young and in love. It’s not his fault he’s pussy-whipped.” He cracks him an antagonizing grin as Peter rolls his eyes. “He can’t go an hour without sending those little weird pictures with heart eyes, or she might not know he’s thinking about her.”

“As if you know anything about romance, old man,” he fires back and presses past them with squared shoulders, correcting him quite seriously: “And they’re called emojis, by the way. But that’s not what I was doing, if you want to know so bad.”

The brunette tilts his head thoughtfully, and small hackles arise for reasons he doesn’t understand, or pay attention to. “You know, I do want to know really badly,” Bucky decides and poses a question to his left, “Wouldn’t you, too, Steve? Aren’t you curious what his girlfriend sent that was so much more important than training?”

The blond mimics his actions and clicks his tongue. “Yeah, I am.”

Peter’s eyebrows pinch while his skin tingles and the hair on the back of his neck stands straight up. “What—” Before his senses process it, one of the super-soldiers plucks his phone out of his hands and darts back beside his best friend. His jaw drops as he tries to follow after him. “Bucky, you asshole—”

“Some spidey senses, huh?” The Winter Soldier lifts it high over his head, utilizing his six-foot stature against his five-ten like elementary school bullies do and older siblings to their juniors. “Haven’t ‘cha heard about sharing with the class?” He laughs and practically stiff-arms him to squint up at the screen. “Aw, he can’t wait to see her. What’s it been, more than two hours since you two saw each other last?”

Conceding to the height difference, Peter stops his physical efforts and diverts it to someone reasonable. “Cap, you gonna help me out here?” he addresses the entertained onlooker in the most friendly voice he can manage.

“The kid’s got separate anxiety not just from his girlfriend but phone too, Buck,” Steve drawls with a lopsided curve of his lips. He side-steps Peter to stand next to Bucky, and for a second, he thinks he’s on his side despite the tease, but he simply adds a stern, “So be careful. You don’t want to break it, or Parker will have a fit.”

Peter crosses his arms and scowls. “Ha, ha,” he retorts dryly, only somewhat amused by their banter. He tilts his head up at them, and the duo look thoroughly pleased with themselves. “You know, you guys are kind of dicks.”

“No, we’re your mentors, kid,” Steve corrects with a wink and rests his arm on his friend’s shoulder. “This is a lesson. No phones—” He jabs his thumb back in reference to the device’s unlocked screen: “—when you’re supposed to be training.”

“Yeah,” Bucky chimes in upon glancing up from his phone. “And a little advice, women don’t like clinginess. Try being a little more stern and see how that works for you. If you’re able to manage that. But I won’t hold it against ya if you can’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter patronizes with a bob of his head, biting back a response pointing out the hundred-something year old’s inexperience. Instead, he focuses on the electronic readily loaded up with some private content. With that, he decides to do the rational and mature thing and ask nicely. “Noted. So, uh, can I have my phone back now?”

To his shock, Bucky merely flashes a smirk and his thumb scrolls half-heartedly over the thread. Thereafter, he leans toward Steve and raises his cell for him to see. “Oh, look, it’s a video,” he teases. “What could Y/N send that would take priority of training?”

There’s an unspoken let’s see then a metal finger taps the play button. Before Peter can think, much less react, Captain American and the Winter Soldier are watching how he effortlessly renders his pretty little girlfriend into a cute nonsensical yet eager mess—

In his point-of-view shot, the ratio holds in portrait view in a bid to capture every bit of you. Above you, the camera focuses on you and your beautifully debauched state beneath warm lighting where it’s unalienable that the camera was made for you.

Your eyes are dilated brightly, desperate with desire as your lashes flutter up at him. A sheen coats your features and glistens like glitter at the highest points of your face while the shape of your face is framed by your stretched arms.

Your wrists are bound over your head, splotched with expertly sprayed strong, white webs. The mesh sticks them together in a criss-cross, comfortable but nearly impossible to break out of, fixed in place atop his headboard. The tautness tugs a mild strain on your figure so your breasts are jutting out like an offering, and it’s obvious he’s taken advantage of it. Darkened marks adorn your glowing complexion, peppered across your décolletage with imprints of his teeth; including your nipples, sucked swollen and tender.

The angle trails down until it reveals the sight of him mercilessly pounding inside of you. His better-than-average girth is sliding in and out of your tight channel; slicked in shared translucent essence, creaming around the base, your inner walls visibly clinging to his cock with every backward stroke. His hand splays on your mound, using his thumb to abuse your engorged clit. He easily keeps the sensitive nub pinned under his control despite your wildly twisting hips.

Like the display, the soundtrack is equally obscene. Loud, your stuffed depths gush and squelch as skin slaps rhythmically. Your breathy, wanton moans overshadow both, drawn out whimpers, almost nonsensical other than the syllable of his name. A melody of neediness, you sound so fucking pretty, (depraved, like a whore, you once told him during your little film marathon with a sly smile), and for him specifically.

The frame pans upward and confirms you look just as good. A perfect mess, unhinged by the skilled ministrations of your boyfriend. Passion beads on your forehead like reflections off of a diamond. Panting, your lips are plumped from kissing parted with mewls of pleasure.

“P - please—I need to—can I - I please—” You’re begging like the sweet little thing you are, incoherent babbling the result of his excessive edging. Of course, you know better than to give into the sensations ravaging you; instead you ignore your visceral desire and ask him for your release. “Peter, please!”

A deep chuckle vibrates behind the camera as his big hand slides into view, trailing over your jiggling tits to the slope of your throat. “Maybe,” he says breathily and grasps the line of your jaw between his fingers. “Open your mouth first, babe.”

No more preamble necessary, you follow his direction, your pink tongue flat over your Cupid’s bow. Immediately, a long string of his saliva drips into view and onto your taste buds; the vulgar act is accepted with a swallow and a quivering moan of, “T - thank you.”

“Good girl,” he praises huskily, and the voiced approval has you visibly shivering. “Alright, then, pretty girl. Make it good for me, and c’mon—”

Before your otherworldly reckoning washes over you and his teammates can watch your bliss immortalized in film, Peter snatches his property back.

Not much force is necessary as Bucky’s grip has been stunned loose. A dark expression permeates on young hero’s face but not because of embarrassment; if he was still nineteen or eighteen, he would’ve been mortified that his titular superiors caught a depraved glimpse of his sex life, on both his and your behalf. Rather than, there’s just a flit of annoyance when he folds his arms.

“Shit,” Bucky is the first to speak, exhaling the swear raggedly. His blue pupils have widened in obvious attraction, dilated dark, blinking rapidly as if it’ll help calm him down from the clip of you, his innocent seeming girlfriend, all ruined and begging. “Parker, fuck, I - I didn’t know you got down like that.”

There’s a swell in his chest, pride beating steadily while he remains reticent-faced. He prefers you keep your bedroom activities secluded there. Yeah, he likes to be in control and you like to be controlled but it’s only in a sexual nature. Yet, their reactions—stunned, embarrassed and viscerally affected—surges smug satisfaction he’s never known before through his veins.

Even the prestigious Captain America is bothered, though he may try to hide it. He clears his throat, a flustered pink coloring his cheeks. “Peter, uh,” he says, barely maintaining the confidence to look him in the eye after witnessing his girlfriend like that. “We - we shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that.”

“Uh-huh,” is Peter’s response, a hint of a smirk curling on one side of his lips. “Why don’t you guys call me after you’re finished with your cold showers, and we can actually train. Until then, I’m gonna go to my girl who’s more than eager to handle mine.” He pauses. “Maybe if you guys ask nice enough, I might let her show you how well I’ve trained her.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #marvel smut imagines #spiderman x reader smut #marvel smut #heh I am going to pass out #I..#goodnight im off me ass sjdjjsxj

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bedbellyandbeyond · 4 years ago

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Wolfman’s Dilemma

(Story Post)

Dax was still at work when Wano called him, so he called the doctor’s office to ask if someone could check on his partner before he could get home. Reid volunteered to make a house call as soon as he heard about Nathan's incident. Nathan was still shaken by his partial transformation. He had gone to lie down after a shower like Wano had suggested, but he couldn't rest well. When Reid did arrive, he sat with him in his bedroom and Nathan had a hard time explaining to the doctor exactly what happened because he didn't want to try to remember. “Well, this all sounds like it would be pretty upsetting, so I understand this isn't easy for you,” Reid comforted, after receiving all the details he could. “But if you think about it, this could be a sign of progress.” “No, I know…” Nathan mumbled, wrapped up in a blanket. “I just don’t like the connotations. If my anger is what made that happen, then that could mean I'm very dangerous. More so than ever.”

“We don't know that,” Reid stated, rubbing Nathan's arm. “We don't truly know what caused any of this to happen and unfortunately, yourself and Wano were the only ones witness to it.” “So, then what? Am I supposed to try to make it happen again?” Nathan asked. “Well, not if you don't want to,” Reid explained. “But, it might be best to keep an eye on you for a week or two in case it does occur again involuntarily.” “So, you mean staying at APID,” Nathan sighed. “Even when I'm off wolf cycle…” “I consulted with Dr. Aias before coming here and that was their suggestion, yes,” Reid admitted. Nathan rubbed his forehead. “I guess it's not really a cycle if I start turning into a wolf thing in the middle of the day on off days…” “Again, it's your choice, Nathan,” Reid insisted. “Camilo's coming by as well to talk to you as this pertains to your case. He might make other suggestions for you.” Nathan nodded. His phone went off and he checked it. “Dax just got off work and he's coming straight home…” “That's great,” Reid commented. “And your language suggests the relationship is pretty serious. I'm glad it's working out.” “My language?” “Aye, you said he's coming home,” Reid said. “You have separate residences, don't you?” “Yeah, well… I can't handle the twins on my own, it's too much, and I don’t know what I was thinking when I offered for Wano to stay here,” Nathan said. “Dax has been…the glue keeping this hell house together and keeping me from going insane. I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't around.” Reid smiled and shook Nathan's shoulder enthusiastically. “See? I knew you two would be good for each other. Aren't you glad you went for it?” Nathan chuckled lightly. “I suppose I am… I guess I just didn't feel like I deserved someone new yet… And I feel bad dragging him into this whirlwind of a life I have right now.” “Nathan, you're a bit too selfless,” Reid commented. “Dax wouldn't be with you if he didn't want to be. The people around you are around you because they like and care about you.” “I know, I know… I just...” Nathan sighed. “No, you're right.” “Anyhow, I can stay until Dax or Camilo arrives, however long you'd like,” Reid said. “Wano seems to be doing well with the twins. Is he a good babysitter?” “Yeah, they love him,” Nathan said. “I think it might be maybe the depth of his voice? I don't know. He follows instruction well enough and he loves to play with them. Maybe he'll be a good dad… Did he explain why we got into an argument?” Reid nodded slowly. “Aye… Trying to make a wee one before he's gone. I can understand your frustration. Wouldn't want that happening under my roof, if I had one.” “Right? I get that he's an adult and he can do what he wants, but also I'm partially responsible for him because I'm letting him stay here,” Nathan said. “If Jeffrey gets pregnant, I have no idea how that'll complicate Wano's case to stay here.” “Well, at the end of the day, these really are things that should concern Wano himself more than you,” Reid reminded. “You’re doing a really nice thing, letting him stay here with you but you don't have to shoulder all his problems. They're not yours and you're not his father.” “I know, you're right,” Nathan sighed again. “I just want to see him get to stay here. He's worked hard to stay. He's improved a lot.” Reid smirked as he observed Nathan. “You know, the wolf might have something to do with this. Sometimes animals who've just given birth will adopt newborns of other species, even if they're an animal they'd usually pray on, like a lioness adopting an oryx, or vice versa, a chicken adopting a kitten. Only for you, your adopted newborn is a full-grown adult alien from another planet.” “I can't help it if he has the emotional intelligence of a twelve-year-old,” Nathan said. “But it's even more reason he shouldn't be having a kid!” “You can't make that decision for him, though,” Reid said. “And you can't make that decision for Jeffrey either. At the very least, one of them has experience as a parent…” “From what I've heard though, his cousin does most of the caregiving…” Nathan mumbled. “Och, you need to stop concerning yourself with them,” Reid said. “You can put your foot down about what goes on in your house, but outside of that, you can't be meddling in their business.” Nathan nodded. “…I bet Jeffrey’s pregnant already anyway…” Reid rubbed his back. “Come downstairs for when Camilo arrives. Eat something. I’d like to see the wee twins again. How're they holding up?” “They're alright…” Nathan said getting up. “I probably should feed them, but Grace refuses to nurse unless she's a pup, but she bites me…” Reid followed him. “Do you pump?” “I do, but they refuse to take bottles from me,” Nathan said. “Dax? Wano? No problem because they have no other choice. But me, all they want is tit. Am I going to have breasts my whole life now?” “We can worry about that later, and you can take my word from personal experience that breast tissue can be dealt with,” Reid assured, chuckling a bit. “Ah, right… Yeah, I guess,” Nathan considered. “Anyway, Wano should be playing with the twins right now… He lets them bite his arms and legs and stuff because he thinks it'll toughen them up but I'd rather he didn't normalise it… I'll show you.” “Aye. Please.” They got downstairs and Nathan broke up the playfighting so Reid could take a look at the twins. They both turned to human for him which he was a bit unhappy about because he really liked to study their animal sides, but he acknowledged that it was good training that they remain human in the presence of strangers. Camilo arrived a little later and they talked in the kitchen while Wano showed off the twins to Reid in the living room. Nathan explained everything he could to Camilo about what had happened. “That is a very new development indeed,” Camilo commented as he took notes into a tablet. “We haven't seen any kind of half transformation like this… Have you asked Nari yet if he knows of werewolves like that?” “He's away on a vacation right now,” Nathan said. “I don't want to bother him with this at all until he's back…” Camilo nodded. “I understand… Well, right now since this is a one-time incident, I don't know that there's much we can do. But, now that we know it's possible, I'd ask you and those around you to video document this type of transformation if it should happen again.” “So, you don't think I should be watched?” Nathan asked. “Well, I don’t know that it's absolutely necessary, but if that's what you want, you could stay a few nights at APID,” Camilo considered. “It's up to you.” Nathan shook his head. “I want to stay home... But only if you really think it's safe.” Camilo patted Nathan's arm. “You didn't hurt anyone, you just transformed. Since having your wolf cycle nights at APID, we haven't observed any violent behaviour at all, only a bit of protective behaviour towards your kids.” “Dax said the wolf bit Dr. Aias once,” Nathan said. “Ah, well yes, but that was just because they needed to draw blood,” Camilo acknowledged. “Wasn’t that the night of Wano’s incident?” “Yes, it was…” Nathan sighed, not enjoying the thought. “Right, it’s possible you could tell your friend was in trouble that night and you were restless. Wolves have exceptional sense of smell. You might’ve smelled blood,” Camilo hypothesised. “You're really okay. Seems as long as the wolf is well fed, they don't hunt.” Nathan exhaled. “Okay… Yeah… Thanks.” “Don't worry,” Camilo assured him. “Your support system is great, and we aren't afraid of you. Everyone is here to help you.” “I get it, I just wish I knew someone else who was going through all this like me,” Nathan said. “I at least had Kent for a hot second, but now I have no one… My kids aren't even the same as me They just transform whenever they please.” Camilo pursed his lips. “Well, maybe you're not alone…” Nathan perked up. “Is there someone else? With APID? Another werewolf? Or were-anything?” “Well, no… I just meant, um…” Camilo waved a hand. “Well, you know, there's the wolf we caught on your bodycam that night.” “Oh." Nathan frowned. “But they attacked me. I still have the scars.” “Yes, but if we tracked them down, we might have answers for you,” Camilo suggested. “Well, maybe… I don't, know. I feel like we tried that lead and it got me nowhere. And pregnant.” “Yeah…” Camilo folded his hands. “But if we could find someone with a similar affliction as you willing to talk with you, you would want that, right?” “Yes, if it's possible, yes,” Nathan said. “The only person I know that's as close to my condition as me is Dax but his thunderbird situation is still very different.” Camilo nodded. “Okay. Can you come in for a meeting tomorrow? I want us to talk more about your options, but I also want to consult with Korsgaard about some stuff beforehand.” “Yeah, for sure,” Nathan said nodding. “Honestly, I talk to you so much, I forget Korsgaard’s my actual case worker…” “Yeah, he does do a lot of work behind the scenes, but he's looking into potentially retiring soon,” Camilo admitted. “I think he's holding out until Maya's grown.” “I get it,” Nathan said. “Do you think you'll take his place?” “Honestly, I don't really know,” Camilo said. “I mean, I like it, and it's been great work while I've been in school, but once I finish my PhD, I might look around… I want to stay at APID though.” Nathan smirked. “PhD classes, a job like this, and a baby at home? Are you sure you're only human?” Camilo smiled sheepishly and rubbed his neck. “I'm just trying my best…” “I could never…” He motioned to the living room where Wano was flexing with the animal twins gnawing on his arms. Reid was just sitting by, taking notes of his observations. “I can't imagine trying to get through my masters when I was your age if I had these two on my hip…” “Should we do something?” Camilo asked worriedly. “No, Wano likes it,” Nathan said. “He calls it ‘warrior play’. It's been really difficult trying to train bite inhibition and I’m so tired all the time, it's easier to just let them do whatever exhausts them…” “I see. It'll take time,” Camilo said. “Have you talked to Yori about it? They might not be exactly the same, but there's likely some issues he's had with the triplets.” “Yes, trust me, Dax has learned a lot from having the triplets in his class,” Nathan recounted. “The very first day of school, Skylar bit a kid that touched her granola bar and later Marco ate his own homework. We've been in contact with Yori's partners, because the kids just seem to fall in line for Yori without much trouble.” “Oh, I see…” At that time, the front door opened, and Dax came inside looking worried. “Nathan, I’m sorry I couldn't leave sooner!” Nathan got up from his seat and went over to hug Dax around the waist. “It's okay. Reid and Camilo have been here to talk to me.” “Ah, good! Are you alright?” Dax looked over his partner for traces of the transformation described to him over the phone. “You look okay, but are you?” “Yeah, I'm fine now,” Nathan said. “Talking to these guys has calmed my nerves a lot and the transformation didn't last more than a minute.” Dax nodded. “Good.” He kissed his forehead. “I’m glad you're okay. And the twins are alright?” “Yep, they're still their usual selves,” Nathan said, motioning to the pair now climbing onto Wano's back and jumping off like goat kids. “I think if anything, my transformation made them excitable.” “That probably makes sense, I think,” Dax said. “Reacting to your transformation I mean.” Reid got up and came over. “Nathan, if you don't need me any longer, I should probably head out.” Nathan nodded and shook Reid’s hand. “Yes, thank you for coming over on such short notice.” “Don't mention it,” Reid insisted. He patted Dax's arm. “Good to see you too, Dax.” “Likewise,” Dax said politely. “Drive safe.” “Aye.” Reid headed out the door. “I should probably get going too,” Camilo said. “Nathan, can we get you in for a meeting first thing at ten?” “Yeah, sounds good,” Nathan confirmed. “I'll see you there.” “Alright, see you,” Camilo said going to the door. “You take care of him, Dax. We're trusting you.” “Don't you worry, I'll be here,” Dax assured. Camilo smiled and waved. “Bye!” “See you tomorrow,” Nathan said as the assistant left. Dax went to see them off and then made sure the door was locked properly before going back to his partner. “Tomorrow, would you like me to join you?” Nathan looked at Dax and contemplated it. “Usually I'd say no, but if you can spare the time, I would appreciate it…” Dax smiled and kissed Nathan's forehead again. “I'll be there, don't worry.” “Thank you,” Nathan said. He took Dax's hand and squeezed it gently. “I appreciate you so much.” “Also on the phone,” Dax recalled. “Wano said you got upset because he’s trying to make a ‘legacy’ with Jeffrey.” He motioned the air quotes. “Do you want me to talk to him about that?” Nathan sighed, glancing over to Wano, now rubbing both twins’ bellies. “No… At least not tonight… Just let him be. It’s not our business at the end of the day. I made it clear though that he can’t have guests here without permission.” Dax nodded and gave Nathan a proper kiss this time. “You’re going to be alright.” “Thanks. I hope so…”

#lore #Nathan #Reid #Camilo #Dax #Wano #Grace #Gabriel #implied mpreg #werewolf #alien #werebear

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highonchocolate · 4 years ago

Text

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 11

First Previous Next Ao3

“Maybe if we use this as a counter agent, it could keep both preserved.” Marinette pointed out, “It says right here that this can balance the whole process quite well on it’s own.”

Alfred hummed thoughtfully, leaning over to read what she was indicating more thoroughly. “But that is only for one, Miss Marinette. You are talking about four at the very minimum. I don’t know if-”

Her phone chimed with the notification reserved for messages to her yo-yo, interrupting their conversation. “I’m so sorry M. Alfred, may I be excused for a moment?” She asked, looking over at the older man apologetically.

“Of course Miss Marinette, take your time. We will keep researching this while you go, and inform you if we find anything.” Alfred indicated the tablet sitting in the table, pages of the Grimoire lighting up its screen. Beside him, the rest of the Kwami murmured agreement, engrossed in their findings as they scrolled through the text.

“Thank you!” She smiled and ducked out of the room, standing in the hallway to view the message for Ladybug.

Greetings, Ladybug, this is Princess Diana of Themyscira. On behalf of the Justice League, I would like to formally invite you and your team to come to the Watchtower for your first day of training on October 20th. A member of our team will be in Paris, and will take you there at precisely 900 hours. We look forward to seeing you then.

Marinette read through the short message several times, brain not fully comprehending the words in front of her. The moment they registered, however, she blue screened.

Marinette.exe has stopped working.

Her thoughts were a muddled mess of panicked catastrophizing and half-baked contingency plans jumbling together in her brain as she went over what the implications of that message were.

They were training.

At the Watchtower.

Watchtower.

Training.

Them.

Holy fuck. She had to tell the team!

She immediately started a group call, speed hobbling to her room as she waited for everyone to pick up.

“Yeah?!”

“What’s up?”

“Hi everybody.”

“Hello?”

“Guys! We have our first meeting with the other heroes!” She whisper-yelled in French, trying to contain her excitement.

Her announcement was met with several exclamations of joy from her team. They celebrated for a few minutes, finally feeling hope for the first time in years. “We need to have a plan for what we’re going to do there,” she cut in, worry bleeding into her voice. “Can we all meet at Luka’s in like, five minutes?”

“Uh, sorry Bug, but I can’t go out unless there’s a valid reason.” Adrien sheepishly informed her. “Otherwise my Father won’t let me.”

“Same here,” Kagami sighed regretfully.

“How about we all meet at Adrien’s?” Luka suggested, “Kagami just tell your mom you and Adrien are going to practice your languages together or something.”

“And if that doesn't work, I can always just pretend-demand that you all need to come over for a sleepover.” Chloe added.

“I think...that may work.”

“My Mother would agree to that.”

“Alright. Adrien’s house in...ten? Fifteen?” Marinette clarified.

“Let’s do fifteen.” Luka said. There were murmurs of agreement before she ended the call and flopped backward onto her bed, hope and excitement flooding her veins.

---

Thirteen minutes later, she was stepping through a portal into Adrien’s room. As soon as she had gotten through, she was tackled enthusiastically by Adrien and Chloe. “Mari!!!” Adrien yelled, grabbing her in a tight hug.

Surprising as it may be, Chloe was secretly a cuddler, and Adrien was severely touch starved, so they were always hanging on to other members of the team. Kagami and Luka were also fans of physical affection, but they stood back a little, not wanting to get caught in the giant Celtic Knot of limbs that had formed where the other three were still hugging.

Breaking out of the embrace, Marinette reached over to the other two and hugged them gently, clutching on for a few moments as she relished the feeling of being surrounded by her friends one again.

Finally, Chloe spoke up, reminding them why they were all there.”So...when exactly is the meeting?”

“Oh, it’s on October twentieth. So like, in a week. ” Marinette replied, “We need to plan for this though.”

“Let's set some basic rules.” Adrien suggested, curling up in a beanbag chair. “First things first, even if they reveal their identities to us, we don’t have to reveal our identities to them. Not until all this is over, maybe not even then.”

“And make sure to stay on guard, and not reveal anything about our civilian lives, right?” Luka asked.

“Yes.” Kagami nodded, “We should wear comms just in case we split up as well.”

“Nettie are we using Kaalki?” Chloe asked, turning to face her.

“We’re not using them, but I will be bringing them along with us. You never know what might happen.”

There were nods of agreement.

“And most importantly, try not to pick fights with the other people.” Marinette added, casting a meaningful glance around at Chloe. “Even if they challenge our honor, or say something rude about our families.” Another glance at Kagami.

“”Oh fine,” Chloe grumbled, rolling her eyes.

Kagami gave them a little half-smile, one that screamed ��I make no promises,’ but nodded. “Agreed.”

“Alright, so nine am, on the twentieth.” Marinette called on Voyage, “I’ll see you then!”

And she was gone, the portal closing behind her in a flare of blue light.

---

The morning of their meeting dawned bright and clear in Paris.

Marinette, however, stared out at the dark sky and fog surrounding Gotham, and longed for home. It was nearly always cold here, and she spent every day in a constant battle against her Ladybug instincts. She was going to end up hibernating all winter at this rate, which would not do. Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was nearing three, which meant she should probably go to Paris if she didn’t want to be late.

She waved to Alfred before walking upstairs, having finally downgraded to a simple brace for her leg. The rest of the family seemed very surprised, and a little suspicious of the rate she was healing, considering it normally took three to six months for a fractured tibia to heal. Granted, she had been injured in August and it was now October, which was a solid two months, but still too short of a time period to be completely normal.

That’s a problem for future Marinette to solve. She decided, choosing to ignore the thought.

She stepped through the portal onto the Eiffel Tower where her team was already waiting. Wonder Woman’s message hadn’t told them where they would be meeting the hero that would be taking them to the Watchtower, so they had decided to wait on the Eiffel.

Barely five minutes later, Superman himself swooped down from the sky, landing lightly on the support beam they were perching on. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Man of Steel himself.” Chloe snarked, rolling her eyes at his appearance. “Gonna get me killed again today?”

Kagami elbowed her in an attempt to shut her up.

“Bee!” Marinette hissed, giving her a warning glare.

“Sorry.” She muttered, not sounding apologetic at all.

Superman’s eyes went comically wide, before he sputtered out a series of half formed apologies, looking flustered and ashamed at her accusation.

“Save it.” She held up hand. “It wasn't the first time, and it won’t be the last. You’re here to take us to the Watchtower, right?”

“Um, yes. We’re going to use the Zeta Beams to get there.” He looked even more concerned at her statement, but chose to let it slide. “Follow me.”

---

Stepping out of the beam, Marinette braced a hand against the wall as she struggled to keep her lunch down. Swallowing against the rising bile, she pressed her hand to her mouth until the worst of the nausea had faded. Looking up, she watched Adrien and Chloe stumble out of the beam, looking as green as she felt. Unlike her, however, Chloe did not manage to keep her composure, stumbling to a nearby trashcan and vomiting into it.

“Oh yuck!” Adrien wrinkled his nose, enhanced senses already picking up the stink beginning to waft through the air. Kagami followed next, looking as composed as ever. She swayed lightly, but regained her balance fairly quickly, walking over to her girlfriend and hugging her gently as she moaned miserably from her spot on the floor. Luka and Superman were the last to join them, both of them booking unruffled from the ride. “Ah, I’m sorry about that.” Superman apologized, “The beams can make you feel a little nauseous the first few times.”

“A little?” Adrien asked incredulously.

“It’s subjective.” He shrugged.

“So, what’s the first order of business?” Marinette asked, looking around curiously. They seemed to be in an entrance room of sorts, but that was all she could tell.

“Well first, we’ll need to have Martian Manhunter do a quick mind search just to make sure you aren’t enemies, or have bad intentions towards the Justice league. He won’t hurt you.” Diana called from where she was standing. Next to her was another person with green skin, an alien most probably.

Luka stepped forward, arms folded across his chest. “How, exactly, will this mind reading stuff work? We don’t want any of our secret identities being compromised.”

“It’s sort of like a google search.” The green-skinned hero in blue and red stepped forward. “I just search for specific terms, and if none of them pop up, you’re clear.”

“And are you going to do this on us one at a time, or as a group?” Kagami asked, gaze steely.

“One at a time. But it might dredge up some painful memories, so be prepared.” He warned.

“In that case, I’ll go first.” Marinette volunteered, stepping over to the hero.

She closed her eyes, and the visions began.

---

She was thirteen again, opening the box and watching Tikki appear before her in a flash of red light. Flying through the air with laughter singing through her soul. Staring out at stone golems, facing everyone’s doubt, ever her own. Floundering desperately, looking for someone to help, fighting the battles on her own as Chat Noir joked and fooled around. Collapsing slowly under the pressure.

Fourteen and struggling, Siren makes an appearance. Those nightmares have never left her. Drowned civilians, water-logged limbs, bloated sacks of flesh floating in the water. Still no help from Chat, the Guardian remaining as elusive and paranoid as ever. She is falling, falling, falling, weighted down by her duties. She still flies, but there is no more laughter.

Fifteen and Lila comes along. Spinning web after web, ensnaring everyone with poisoned words, dripping honey-sweet with lies. She watches as she loses everyone to a girl that only wanted to fit in. Adrien does nothing, and the last of her love for him flickers out.

Still fifteen, and there is Miracle Queen. Her cure wiped everyone’s memory, but she knows she can’t afford anymore slip-ups. She’s the Guardian now, and she knows she can’t do this on her own. She adds three permanent members to her team, and with the reveal comes remorse. Chat-no, Adrien-realizes his harassment, and Chloe apologizes. Things are looking up.

Then, she is sixteen, and the bullying becomes physical. Heroing, schoolwork, and commissions for ungrateful classmates wear away at her. Designing loses its joy. She sinks into a haze of monochrome grays, mechanically moving through life. Then there is The Incident, and there is nothing but cold, and red, and-

With a gasp her eyes fly open, and she looks around wildly, bright blue eyes shadowed, and far away.

“Bug!” Chat called out, reaching for her as she gasped, struggling for air. There was wetness on her cheeks; when did that get there? The other heroes looked at her in concern, Martian Manhunter had apologies written all over his face. Before they could say anything, she waved a hand dismissively and tried for a smile. “I’m okay, really. Did I pass the test?”

Martian Manhunter still looked worried, but nodded. “You are good. You can go sit down or wait here until I do the rest.”

“I’ll stay.”

Adrien was next.

He stepped forward, feeling his apprehension rise. If Marinette’s reaction was that bad, what would his be?

He breathed in, and closed his eyes.

---

@laurcad123, @liquid-luck-00, @toodaloo-kangaroo

#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #luka couffaine #kagami tsurugi #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #lila rossi #alya cesaire #lila salt #class salt

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starkatana · 4 years ago

Text

Safehouse

Jason Todd x Female Reader

Red Hood x Female Reader

Summary:

Red Hood gets injured and calls you for your help. Very fluffy and sweet.

I needed fluffy and sweet after working on this angsty story.

Warning: Light swearing, mentions of marijuana

Before Reading:

Your hero name is: Black Cat

Imagine your suit to look a lot like Selina’s (Catwoman’s suit)

Since his return your relationship with Jason has been tense. You still have feelings for each other and this is your first interaction together not ending in a yelling match.

At this point in the story you two are 22/23; while at prom you were both 18 - seniors in high school about to graduate.

Thanks! And shout-out!

The prom section is inspired by this post by @geekandnerdworld

I used a prompt from this post by @writing-ideas-inc

Author’s Note:

So, here begins my various one-shots of Jason Todd/Red Hood x Reader//y/n AKA my current obsession. I may compile all of them into chronological order once everything is done. I just really wanted to write and post something. I just have too many WIP’s right now that I need to focus on.

Sorry if it's a little out of character, this is just based on my knowledge that Tumblr has given me.

Enjoy! ~<3

You received an SOS from Jason with his location. You haven’t heard from Jason in a while, but you weren’t going to ignore an SOS from him. Quickly getting dressed as Black Cat, you rush to this location. The coordinates lead you to his old orphanage; you had been here a few times before with Jason. Volunteering to hang out, teach, and play with the kids.

You parked your bike out front and carefully climbed the fence. The orphanage was warm and inviting. The upper levels of the building were dark, it was nighttime and you knew that’s where the kids slept. The downstairs, the main entrance light was on along with the outside lights. You creep up quietly to the front door and saw a note in Jason’s writing that said: ‘Back door.’

You follow your instructions and go to the back. You knock on what you remember to be the kitchen door and the friendly face of the orphanage care-taker answered.

“Black Cat.” She opened the door wider for you, “Come in.”

You nod and stepping in Jason, as Red Hood, was sitting on a chair in the kitchen.

“Cat.” Jason looked over at you, “You came.”

“Of course I came.” You walk over to him as she closes the door behind you. “Are you okay?” You ask as you instinctively begin to look over Jason’s wounds. Nothing stitches wouldn’t be able to handle. Maybe some bruising, but nothing too crazy.

“I’m fine.” He winced, “I need some help getting home. Miss wouldn’t let me leave unless someone went with me.”

She sighs. “You can stay here Ja-” the orphanage caretaker stops herself, “Red Hood.”

“No, it’s okay.” He gets up and you instinctively go to reach for him in case he falls over. “I’ll be back to get to the bottom of things, but right now, I’m going home.”

She sighs, “You heroes and your secrets. Be safe out there.”

“Always am.” He makes his way to the door, “C’mon Cat.”

You nod and follow him out, once the door shuts behind you two, he winces over.

“Jay.” You help him up.

“I’m okay.”

“C’mon, let me carry you.”

He agrees and they continue to walk.

“Thank you.”

You don’t respond knowing how much it probably took him to say that. You only smile to yourself and walk over to his motorcycle.

“I have someplace we can go to close-by that’ll be safe.”

“Okay. I’ll drive you just give me directions.”

He agrees. Getting on his bike, you put your bike in automatic drive and send it back to the Batcave knowing that Bruce’s tracking device was still set up on it. Jason gives you the key for his bike and you start it up as he sits up behind you on the bike.

“You good?” you ask.

“Better.”

Arriving at the safe house, you almost missed it because the safehouse was a flower shop. It was four stories, the fourth being a large greenhouse looking level.

“Are we at the right place?”

“Yeah.”

Jason unlocked the garage and pushed up the door, as you pushed the bike in. Inside there are a variety of flowers and arrangements. Jason led you upstairs to the third floor. He unlocks the door and gestures after you.

Walking in, it was a very open space with beautiful red brick walls and black framed windows. The apartment, if you want to call it that, had an open floor plan where the living room, dining space, and kitchen flowed into each other. It was nicely decorated with a variety of houseplants hanging around. There was a little section that dipped down with a couple of stairs and above you was a glass-paneled roof with black trim.

“How is this a safehouse?” you ask him still looking up, “There’s an entire section where the roof is glass.”

“I just said it was safe, not a safehouse.”

“I suppose. This looks like it could be one of Ivy’s lairs.”

He shrugs, “you could say that.”

“Is it?”

“I mean, making money by selling some sweet kush isn’t a bad side job.”

You let out a light chuckle, “I guess not.” You look up and around, the sky had cleared and the stars were out.

“It’s bulletproof glass.”

“I wasn’t concerned about the glass and getting caught. I was just looking at the sky.”

He nods and looks up with you, “Can I be frank?”

“No.” you shift your eyes to look at him without moving your head, “I’d like you to be Jason.”

You could practically feel him roll his eyes at you under the sliver of moonlight. “Glad to know your jokes are still terrible.”

You move your head to face him with a smile you haven’t worn in a long time, “What’s going on?”

“To be honest, when Ivy first offered me the place and I saw this brick wall and the large window roof, I could only think of you and I hoped that I’d have another chance to look at the stars with you.”

You purse your lips. That was really cute. “I don’t understand. What about Artemis?”

“You caught me. You were right, I was only with her to hurt you and make you jealous. She knew. You knew. I was only kidding myself. She broke up with me, if we were even dating, told me to quit being a little bitch and to give up my pride and go back to you.”

You don’t respond. “Where's the first aid supplies?” you ask changing the conversation.

“Bathroom.”

You nod. “You try to get out of that suit. I’ll be right back.”

Jason let out a hiss of air.

“You okay?” you ask pulling on the stitch to tighten it.

“Yeah. It just stings like a son of a bitch.”

“Always does. Okay. Take a breath and let it out slowly.

Jason listens and at the time he exhales, you make another stitch, followed by a knot. “Alright, you’re done.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” You say, “Let’s get some rest.”

“Yeah. You can have the bed.” Jason offered, “There’s only one here.”

“Does it have this view?” you gesture to the window ceiling.

“No.” he gives you a half-smile, “I can get the bed out here for you.”

“Not with the new stitches I just put in. Thanks, Jaybird, but the couch is fine for me.”

There’s a noticeable pause between you two.

“I haven’t heard that in a while.”

“Hm?”

“Jaybird, I miss it. It’s either Red or Jason now. I feel like people only call me Jaybird when they aren’t mad at me.”

It had been a while since you called him by his nickname. He was right though. Since he’s been back, you’ve been upset and always called him Jason or dickhead. In your alter egos, you either call him Red, Hood, or Red Hood. Yet, you haven’t had a real conversation with Jason in a while.

“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve had a civil conversation.”

“Yeah... why did you answer my call?”

You pause. He was right. You had no reason to answer his call. You didn’t need to answer anything. He’s been a major dick since he’s been back and you two haven’t had any positive contact. Yet all you could answer, “Why wouldn’t I?”

He pauses.

“Here’s a question for you, why call me?”

There’s another pause.

“Do you want something to sleep in? I have some spare T-shirts in the bedroom and some shorts you could tie at the waist to fit you.”

You give up the conversation. “Please.”

He leads you to the bedroom. The room screamed Jason Todd, it wasn’t a mess but it wasn’t neat either. There were a variety of books, a closed laptop, spare Red Hood helmets, and a domino mask or two.

“Here.” He gives you a clean shirt and a pair of shorts.

“Thanks.” There was a tense air between you two. You wondered if he could feel it too. There was so much to say and it just didn’t feel like the right time to say it all. “Good night, Jay.”

“Y/n,” you look at him expectantly. You weren’t sure what you wanted him to say, but you stopped to listen. “Good night.”

You smile at him and show yourself out of the bedroom. Going to close the door behind you, you take one more lingering look at Jason, who makes eye contact with you giving you a sad look. You turn away and click the door shut behind you.

After changing into his T-shirt, you don’t put on the pants, his waist was just too big for you. You go lay down on the couch. This was what Jason smelled like, it was a comforting, familiar smell. You missed it a lot. You brought it over your face, this was Jason and he was real. You stared at the stars in the sky and remembered the first time you two went star gazing, it was prom night.

You and Jason had just left the prom, went out to eat at your favorite diner, and went back to Wayne Manor. An overall perfect night. You two stayed dressed in your formal wear and made hot chocolate in the kitchen. Not wanting to call it a night just yet, you two laid on the manor’s roof watching the stars.

You two were laughing and giving each other shit.

Jason sighs and lays down next to you, “Y’know, I’ve never had a real friend before.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes.

“It's true!”

“Okay.” You mock, “Let me just call Roy.”

“Oooh nooo, what's Mister Bow and Arrow, what’s he gonna do?”

“Dump your ass so you definitely won’t have a ‘real friend’.”

“Then my point still stands:” you could hear the cheekiness in his voice, “I have never had a real friend.”

“Well, I am your friend, Jaybird.” You say turning your head to look at him.

Jason looks over at you with a big smile on his face.

“What?”

“I’ve also never had a girlfriend...”

You roll your eyes and shake your head looking away from him and back towards the starry sky. He’s quiet and in your peripheral vision, you could see that he was still staring at you.

“Y/n,” his fingers gently brushed against yours. Not grabbing your hand just being close. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You look back over at Jason and swallowed hard. He was being serious. His blue eyes glimmered under the light of the moon. He had on a soft smile that he only shares with you. The time that you two spent together training, going on patrols, dancing, school, laughing, mischief-making, the short amount of time you knew Jason you couldn’t imagine your future without him.

You gently move your hand and lock your fingers with his. “Yes.”

He smiles and lifts your hand to his lips kissing the back of it. Letting his lips linger over your hand as his soft breaths tickled your skin as you stared into each other’s eyes. You never wanted this moment to end.

You hear a door click open. You sit up and Jason is walking into the main area.

“Sorry.” He says, “I was just grabbing some water.”

“No worries.”

“Can you sleep?”

“No.”

“Want some hot cocoa and watch the stars?”

“Yes.”

Jason made you some hot chocolate and took a seat on the ground while you laid on the couch. Getting into a conversation about the year. You explained to him what you tried to do, fighting through waves Joker’s men to get to him. How you wanted Joker to suffer for killing Jason. Then explaining that you were lucky when the other bat fam members showed up to save your ass.

“Then Dick went after Joker and manage to successfully beat him up. Bruce had to step in to stop him before they put Joker back in Arkham.”

“Again? When is he going to get that’ll never work?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. We didn’t get much of a say, I was in the infirmary and the girls kidnapped me to NYC before Bruce could say anything.”

Jason was quiet before he said, “You and Dick are the only two in this family that I fucking respect. Trying to kill Joker like that. Badass. Thank you.”

You smile and finish your cocoa. He didn’t even know the half of it. “Your turn. Where were you? What did you do? What happened while you were away?”

“Recover.” he shrugged, “I was going through rehabilitation. Physical therapy. I sat around in the Lazarus Pit,” he gestured to his white tuff in front. “That’s where this came from. Don’t know why we just didn’t do that sooner.”

“And here I thought I’d never see you again. You were suffering all by yourself.”

“There was one more thing,” Jason turns around to face you, “Bruce thought it’d be a great idea to give me the letters you wrote me. I don’t know why, but I got your letters. So, I wasn’t completely alone. It was when Peter came into the picture when,” He said the next part slowly, “I…got…jealous.”

“Wait? All of them?”

“I’m assuming. He gave me a lot.”

“Oh my god!” You sat up on the couch, “I wrote so much in those.” you covered your face from embarrassment. “I didn’t think anyone was going to read them!”

“Hey.” Jason got on the couch with you and gently grabbed your hands to uncover your face, “They gave me hope that I’d see you again. Your letters made me feel like I wasn’t so alone.”

“And now I’m mad!” you took his hands back and pointed a finger in his face, “You had all of my letters! You had an idea of how I felt while you were gone! And you still pulled all that shit, Jason Peter Todd!”

“Yeah,” he held his hand up in defense, “I’m sorry. It was dumb and stupid.”

“You’re dumb and stupid.” You gently shove him away.

“I mean you’re right.”

“Stop. I don’t mean that.”

He smiles, “I think after all the shit I pulled, you can be mean to me.”

“I don’t want to be,” you sigh leaning against your arm propped up on the back of the couch, looking at him “I’m tired of fighting.”

“Me too.” He begins, “This was nice. Thank you.”

You nod and he matches your body language. Sitting in the silence of each other. It didn’t feel odd, it didn’t feel the same, it felt new. Like a door had opened where you could both move forward.

“And so you know this still stands. Reading all your letters, talking tonight again, even after me being a dick to you. I’ve never given much thought to others’ hopes and dreams, but when you talk about yours, I want them all to come true. I only want you to be happy.”

You smile and for the first time, you touch his arm gently in a manner of love and affection.

“Y/n,” he says with his hand over yours.

“Jaybird.”

“Please don’t give up on me.”

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nanagoswife · 4 years ago

Text

For You? Always.

Chapter Sixteen

Summary: Over the next months, some things happen that bring you and Ben closer

Word count: 4.2k (Sorry, not sorry)

Warnings: Implied intimacy

A/N: I introduce you all to possibly my personal favourite installment of this story...

A month and a half had gone by and it’s been amazing. There were a few nights where Ben had to stay over at Siara’s, whether it be for work or to do something with Brian, but you were already accustomed to that. Other than that, he would meet you at your office, or you at his, to walk home together.

Then, one night, he told you about the many places he often volunteers at. The top being an animal shelter.

He told you many stories of the animals, but two dogs seemed to be his favourite. Cody, a golden retriever, and Boga, a Siberian husky. Ben had told you how Boga had the most amazing blue-green eyes.

"On the topic of learning new things about each other," he suddenly said. "My name wasn't originally Ben."

Shock hit you so hard that all you could manage was yelling, "What!"

He only chuckled at your reaction, "It's true. My birth name is actually Obi-Wan." Before he continued, he met your eyes. "When my mom and I moved here, many got confused. So, I changed it to Ben," he explained.

"Well," you started, the shock easing away, "I think Obi-Wan suits you better, personally."

As you smiled at him, he gave you one back as his cheeks turned slightly red.

"Then, you may call me what you like."

The rest of that night was spent learning things about each other. It was all endearing as he told you more, especially his time in London.

- - -

One day, he took you to meet Cody and Boga who took an immediate liking to you. Ben was a little jealous as they seemed to give you more attention than him, after the initial meeting anyway.

Between the two, Boga gave you the most attention. She had taken a liking to you very quickly, and the feeling was mutual.

Cody greeted you, but quickly went to Ben. He seemed more comfortable when being close to him.

At one moment when Ben had slipped away, you asked one of the other volunteers why Ben hadn’t adopted these dogs, as he had such a close connection to them.

“Well, he wasn’t able to own more than one pet in his building, and he just couldn’t choose. We’ve taken them off of the adoption list because we hope that he can take them home one day,” they explained.

For a bit, you thought to yourself. Watching him with the two dogs, you could see the connection between them. It seemed as if they saw him as their owner even when he wasn't.

When Ben had come back, you had to ask, "Ben, what would you think about adopting Cody and Boga?"

"Are you sure?" he said in surprise.

"You practically raised these dogs, Ben. It would break my heart to see them not be with the person they admire most."

He looked to the two one year old dogs. His jaw had dropped at the knowledge that the two dogs he had raised and trained will finally be with him.

Turning to look at you, he nodded enthusiastically with a large smile across his face.

Suddenly, he pulled you into a tight embrace. "Thank you," he whispered. All you could do was smile.

Ben and you signed any needed papers and got everything sorted. The shelter workers happily handed him their leashes. Almost as if he had a mental connection with them, the two dogs seemed to know exactly what had happened. Boga had been spinning in excitement with Cody jumping to rest his paws on his chest and lick Ben’s face as he kneeled.

Watching this, you couldn’t help but giggle at the shared excitement shown between them all.

Your house was perfect for all of this as well. It had a large fenced-in yard and plenty of space inside. Besides, you had been planning to get a pet of some sort for quite some time.

Attaching the leashes to each of the dogs’ temporary collars, Ben walked them to the pet-store with you to get essentials. Dog bowls, beds, toys, treats, a yellow and white collar for Cody and a swirl of turquoise and blue for Boga, and finally food and name tags.

Ben had drifted through the store swiftly as he picked out each item with great thought. The toys and collars were the most thoughtful as he picked what suited them most and looked for replicas of their favourite toys from the shelter.

When you had bought everything, you took Boga’s leash to let Ben have a better time carrying the large bag of food and beds on his shoulder while you held the bag of toys, treats, and bowls.

While you walked, you noticed how well Boga and Cody were on a leash. Obediently walking close by without pulling when taking a slight lead. No doubt, this was the work of Ben’s training. Plus, you had noticed that Boga had taken a greater liking to you. You had a feeling that you would steal away Boga from Ben quite often.

Arriving home, you let the dogs off of the leashes to let them explore their new home. You opened the back door for them so that they could come in and out as they excitedly explored every inch of the area.

“Before you ask, yes you can put the dog beds in our room,” you quickly told Ben after he placed the dog food on the floor. His smile beamed at your words.

“That would be great, but I was going to ask if we could get two more and then have them in the office and the room,” he said with slight shyness.

The thought of having company of the two new additions in those areas actually made you happier, meaning you nodded in agreement.

Before Ben turned, you added, “Let's give them blankets to lie on in the office, and the beds can be in the room.” He nodded and you went to grab a couple of blankets that you hardly used from a closet. You brought them over to Cody and Boga to let them sniff and choose which one they liked best.

To your slight surprise, they chose blankets that seemed to match their collars. Cody chose the orange-yellow while Boga chose the blue-tinted green. With their choices, you placed the blankets against the wall that was between yours and Ben’s two desks.

You had waited until the two dogs had calmed their exploration before closing the back door. Taking your place on the couch, Ben took his place on the reading chair that he inherited over the last few months. If he wasn’t there, he was right beside you, often resting his head in your lap.

By the time you got comfortable, Boga jumped up next to you and curled up. Ben was about to protest but you stopped him. Having the bright blue and green-eyed husky snuggle up next to you was sweet. Cody had taken a place beside Ben’s chair and curled up close to his feet. You could tell that Cody would be more obedient and Boga was more of the cuddling type. It made you smile at the thought.

Ben, in his mind, could tell that Boga had become your dog more than his from the moment you had met her. By the way you let her immediately take a place on the couch just solidified it. Especially when you had taken your book and absentmindedly started to pet Boga’s head.

Looking down to Cody, he met his brown eyed gaze before he rested his head on his paws close to Ben’s feet. With a small smirk, he grabbed his own book and pretended to read as his love only grew. The two dogs that were like his children were finally his to keep. No more trips to the shelter just to visit them. Sure, he’ll still go there to volunteer, but the two dogs, that had stolen his heart almost a year ago when they were born, would always be at home waiting for not only him, but you as well.

For another couple of months, you and Ben were met by the two dogs every time you came home. If the two of you went to different areas, Boga followed you and Cody followed Ben. There was a single day that it had been the opposite way around.

Some days, when Ben went to Siara’s or had to stay slightly later, the dogs had been just as excited to spend their time with you. Cody stayed on the floor by your feet and Boga took her place beside you on the couch, unless you went to the office where their blankets were. Then, at night they slept in their beds in your room.

Every morning, you got up earlier with Ben to take them on a walk. Then, you would take them on another in the park during the evenings. It gave you and Ben some quality time as well.

Now was one of the nights where he had to stay at the office with Siara for a few more hours. He told you to not wait for him for dinner as he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be. So, you made dinner for yourself and gave Cody and Boga there’s as you ate.

You had decided to wait until it got a little darker before taking them for a walk tonight so that you could see the stars. That’s exactly what you saw along with the light breeze that ruffled the leaves on the trees.

When you got back home, Ben was home and probably in the office. You could tell by the quiet music and the fact that he wasn’t sitting in the living room.

Cody and Boga rushed to the office as soon as you unclipped their leashes. After their rush, you could hear the laughter from Ben which told you that they pretty much attacked him with love. With a light chuckle, you took off your shoes and coat and joined the room of laughter.

“Hello there,” he managed to get out through the multiple licks, mainly from Cody. After a few more moments, Cody and Boga calmed down and went to the blankets. It was your turn to greet him, but with a quick kiss on the lips.

Sitting on the office chair at your desk, you asked, "How was the rest of your day?"

He took a deep breath before letting out a sigh that you could tell had a twinge of annoyance.

“Not great. Apparently, a client has gotten into a slight hitch,” Ben paused as he was trying to find the right words. The look he had in his eyes caused a small feeling of concern to creep into your mind.

“I wanted to ask before agreeing to this. They need someone to go down there for two to three weeks to help get it settled." He paused again. "Siara wanted to see if I could go,” he finished.

To his surprise, you smiled before saying, “Of course it’s okay. I mean, she usually is the one to do the travelling.” He smiled but it was more forced as his expression dropped.

“Don’t worry,” you said as you knew what he was feeling, “the three of us will be fine. I could even visit a few times if it's possible. The neighbours said they’d be more than happy to take care of Boga and Cody if needed.” At your words, you saw some of Ben’s tension ease from his shoulders as a small smile reappeared on his face, but it was short lived as he looked at the ground.

“Unfortunately, I don't think I'll have any time. The first weekend, maybe." He looked up at you, "Are you sure?”

“Of course I am. Like all those months ago, I'll be ready for your call. No matter how brief it may be,” you replied.

Standing up you walked over to him and squatted next to his chair, placing your hand on his cheek. Leaning into your touch, he nodded before you placed a kiss on his cheek where his beauty mark was. He took your free hand into his and kissed the back of it, smiling as he looked into your eyes.

Seeing that he still had work to do, you stood up before asking, “When do you leave?”

“Well, today is Wednesday," he muttered to himself, "Monday.”

“We have time to plan out what will happen then. Until then, I’ll let you continue working,” you said. You gave him a quick kiss then started toward the door. Boga noticed and she followed you out the door as Cody stayed with Ben.

Ben couldn’t help but give a slight chuckle as he officially knew that Boga had very much become your dog. He couldn’t help but think he may even lose Cody to you as well, which would not bother him in the slightest as it was you.

A few days had gone by and you and Ben had a plan for while he was away. The two of you agreed to you coming to see him on the first weekend. You had found out that even your weekends would be busy with a new project that was coming up.

You had talked to your neighbours and they were more than excited to take care of Cody and Boga during that weekend. They even said that they would bring them over to their house so that they wouldn’t be too lonely throughout the day.

Tonight, as it was Saturday, you had decided to have an outing before Ben left. You hadn’t had a night like this in a while so you decided to have a later dinner and go from there. Ben wouldn’t tell you where you were going though.

All he told you was that it was a smart idea to dress up. For him, that was no problem as he always wore suits. This time though, he put on one that you had not seen before that made him even more handsome than he already was.

His jacket and pants were a darker shade of blue with lighter, parallel and perpendicular blue lines ran across it, making many faint squares over the surface. His dress shirt was still a darker blue, but just a bit lighter than the stripes on his jacket and pants. Unlike usual, his buttons were done all the way to the collar. This all made his eyes burn a more vibrant blue as you met his gaze through the mirror in the bathroom.

“Darling, you look stunning,” he said as his eyes examined the light blue of your dress that stopped just above your feet. The flowing material complimenting your form.

A blush formed on your cheeks as you clipped the necklace he gave you around your neck. Ben stepped up behind you and wrapped his arms around your front, resting his chin on your shoulder and kissing your cheek while slowly swaying side to side.

“And you look extra handsome in that suit. The colour really compliments your eyes,” you said as you made eye contact with him in the mirror. He straightened up and moved his hands on your shoulders, the touch gentle and calming.

“I’ll make sure to wear it more often, then,” he said before pressing a kiss into your hair and tracing small circles on your skin with his thumbs.

Turning to face him, you smiled as he offered his arm to lead you to the front door where your shoes were. Boga and Cody followed you, and you said your goodbyes after putting your shoes on and grabbing any last minute things.

Locking the door, Ben offered his arm to you again as you asked, “Will you tell me where we’re going now?” He answered that by only showing a smirk.

“You’ll have a guess once we get there.”

“Does that mean that you’re going to blindfold me once we start getting close?”

“How’d you know?” He chuckled as you gave him a sarcastic shake of your head. Well, you at least now knew that he really wanted to make this a serious surprise.

As you walked, he eventually stopped for a few moments to tie a piece of fabric around your head to act as the blindfold. To his luck, you didn’t know this area well enough to guess what restaurant he was taking you to before even arriving.

When you arrived, you heard doors open followed by, “Good evening, Mr. Kenobi.”

“Good evening, Sam. Is our table ready?”

“Of course, sir. Right this way,” Sam said, which told you that it was time to start walking again. You were so scared that there would be a step that you would place incorrectly that you found yourself clutching onto Ben’s arm tighter.

Soon, you stopped walking once again and heard Ben thanking Sam. Then, you felt Ben loosen the blindfold and let it drop away from your eyes.

At first you squinted as the light met your eyes, but it quickly cleared as you gasped from the sight. Now, you had no idea where you were, but it was breathtaking.

The table was surrounded by a red velvet curtain that met a wall that had an electric fireplace. On the table was a vase with a single rose with a couple of candles on top of a white table cloth. The area was its own small room with a black curtain acting as the door.

Noise from the rest of the restaurant was quiet, but fully drowned out by the soft music playing. The room was lit perfectly, allowing the colours of the room to show their best qualities, the table accented by the candle light.

“Have you figured out where we are yet?” Ben’s voice broke your thoughts. At first you didn’t until you saw a small logo on one of the napkins.

“Derek’s restaurant?” You knew it was, but the question came more as one asking as to why he chose this one.

Ben let out a small chuckle as he knew what you were asking.

“He told me that I should try it out one day. Since I had never tried it, I told him about our plan and he offered to set this up for us,” he explained as he met your eyes. Placing a quick kiss to your lips, he led you over to the table where he pulled your seat out and tucked it in before sitting himself.

Unbuttoning his jacket he asked, “So, what do you think?”

“It’s perfect. I knew there were VIP tables, but I didn’t know that this is what Derek meant,” you replied. This seemed to confuse him.

“Derek never showed you this area?”

Shaking your head you replied, “No. When I came here, it was part of a business meeting. The restaurant was closed for the night so we were in the main restaurant. I only knew where we were because of the napkin logo.”

Ben seemed to understand that, but was still a bit confused. You and Derek were good friends, so why he hadn’t he just given a tour of the restaurant puzzled him. He pushed it out of his mind though as he saw your smile find its way back onto your face.

Through your time, you talked, getting to know more details you haven’t learned in the last few months. He mentioned how his mother had been doing well since she fully recovered from her surgery a month ago.

When he said that, it reminded you of how you listened to his cries while you consoled him at the park. You would have never thought that you’d be in this moment then, but here you are.

You were here with the boy who you used to serve at the cafe during high school. The boy who had a silent crush on you and left for law school without a word. The man who made you feel not only safe, but truly loved. There is no one else that you wished to be with at this very moment. You love him, and he loves you.

The time went by and you hardly noticed the food being placed at the table. The two of you were wrapped up in each other's company more than anything else. Sure, you lived together, but it was moments like this that you really used the time.

When you both decided that you were done, Ben pulled out your chair and offered his arm once again. This time without being blindfolded, you walked through the restaurant doors.

On your way home Ben told you that he wanted to bring you to the park for some time. The night sky was clear and the moon was in the perfect area that it would be right in the centre of your view on the grass patch.

Arriving at the park, it was just as you had imagined. The moon, big and bright in a sky speckled with millions of sparkling stars that added to the beauty.

Instead of sitting, the two of you stood holding each other. Your head pressed into his chest as you observed the moon, his cheek resting on your hair with his face directed the same way as yours.

Tonight, there was something new. Something that you have felt before but was too afraid to act on it. Partially because of the past, partially because it was till relatively new to you and you didn't know.

When a breeze blew past you, you shivered even with the warmth of Ben’s embrace. Even though you tried to hide it, he still noticed like always.

Before he could take his coat off, your lips caught his and both of your hands pressed to the sides of his face. He brought his arms back around you, his hands resting on your hips. Pulling you closer to his warmth, he pulled away for a moment, resting his head against yours.

It seemed as if he could tell what you were suddenly feeling. That, this time, you were acting on it.

“Are you okay with this? Because I can stop if-”

You cut him off before he could start rambling, “Ben, I’m okay. Just promise to be gentle and possibly patient.”

Ben nodded, “I always will be for you.” Your lips crashed back against his, this time being more open.

Reluctantly, you had separated once again to make your way back home. Both of your paces were slightly quickened.

Unlocking your door, Ben had you in his arms after you took the key back out of the lock. Your lips locked again, built up feelings now being released. He reached behind you and opened the door, the two of you walking carefully backwards. Ben managed to close the door behind you without breaking contact.

Kicking your shoes off, you kept moving carefully backwards until your back met a wall. Your passion was still being shared until your two roommates jumped up at the two of you, causing a laugh as Ben was partially knocked off balance.

After telling them to go and lie down, he turned his attention back to you. In one swift movement, he lowered himself and picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Taking a step away from the wall he placed his hands on your back to pull you closer to him.

He had to tilt his head back to kiss you as your head was now above his. Keeping his carefulness, Ben walked to your room and closed the door. Turning on the light, he let himself lean against the door.

To catch his breath, he separated from your lips. Both of you were breathing heavily and smiled at the extra glow that seemed to radiate from your eyes.

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” Ben asked once he caught his breath enough. "We can stop if you are."

This is one of the many reasons why you love him so much. Even with permission, he asks multiple times to determine that it really is okay.

Nodding your approval, he stepped away from the door and brought you to the edge of the bed. Gently, he let you down on the covers. Taking his jacket off, your lips meet once again, you unbuttoning his shirt.

Sitting up, you let his hands find your zipper, “Just be gentle,” you whispered again into his ear. With that, he easily complied.

Everything he did was gentle. All doubts you had up to this moment were washed away. The raging fire of the past was put out by the gentle stream that was the present. Guilt had flooded you thinking that you made him wait this long but, at the same time, it made the moment special. And he would never blame you, and doesn’t blame you for anything that had happened.

For you, he would always wait for you. No matter the reason.

@stardancerluv @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @where-fantasy-meets-reality @hopeladybug @wintersoldiersthings

#obi wan x you #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan fic #obi wan fluff #obi wan imagine #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan x y/n #ben kenobi #modern au #fanfic #ewan mcgregor #For You? Always.

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oceanselevenism · 4 years ago

Note

If you're still doing them maybe number 12 with both the ocean's siblings and their partners?

hell yeah!! i’ve put it under the cut :)) it is Very Tangentially holiday-sweater-related but it is too long to not post now! hope you enjoy, and happy holidays :))

It’s the first Christmas they’ve spent together in... nearly a decade and a half, actually. The years had flown by, blurring into a mess of run-ins and arguments and you stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine, but hey, Danny can’t fault his sister for wanting to make up for lost time. No, he can’t fault her (after all, if she had been the one to fake her death, he’d probably have moved into her house for a week, just to make sure she didn’t do it again) but he can make fun of her, so that’s what he does. “Aw, you really did miss me,” he says when she gives him and Rusty perfunctory hugs on her way into his house (Lou just claps them both on the shoulder, and he’s not sure whether to feel snubbed or relieved). “I can’t believe my dear sister actually cares,” he tells her when she brings him a mug of cocoa, ingredients nabbed from some billionaire in Germany. “Pure family bonding for the whole family,” he remarks when she goes off on a drunken, expletive-filled tangent about the Met Gala’s security over a game of poker (they’ve given up on trying to enforce the no-cheating rule, and he’s pretty sure Lou takes the opportunity to peek at Debbie’s cards). But in all honesty, he can’t keep up the ribbing; it really is good to see her, even if she definitely gets along better with Rusty (she’s told him as much, and right to his face, too) and the third day ends in a bitter, wine-fueled not-argument about their mother and their father and they themselves. But on the fourth morning Danny gets up early (it’s five in the goddamn morning, why the fuck has Lou already left a note on the counter saying gone on a run) to make latkes, and when Debbie comes downstairs she scoops out a dollop of his favorite sour cream instead of her usual applesauce, so unless her latke preferences have done a complete 180 since the last time he’s seen her, they’ve forgiven each other.

She and Lou volunteer to go on a grocery run that evening, and Danny’s glad; he hasn’t had the chance to jump Rusty’s bones in, like, five days (turns out cleaning up for houseguests takes up way more time than anticipated) (hey, the only people they’ve had over in years have been the crew from the Benedict job, and he’s heard Reuben threaten to shit on Turk’s feet, they don’t need to clean up for them). And for a minute, as Rusty pins him up next to the to-be-composted bag that is currently overflowing with potato scraps, the only thought in his head is the usual why didn’t we do this sooner. But then Rusty pulls back-- “Rus,” Danny complains-- and he tilts his head in that We Need To Talk manner. Which would be hot, if not for the fact that Rusty probably wants to talk about Debbie.

“You’re good, right?”

“We were never on bad terms.”

“Liar.”

“Well, hostile terms, maybe,” Danny amends. “But never bad.”

Rusty shifts, adjusting his forearms so it’s more like they’re just two good pals having a conversation three inches from each others’ faces instead of two good pals about to do very unsanitary things in a kitchen, and says, “I think you’re putting too much water under the bridge.”

“What am I, a Dutch engineer?”

“You’re very funny.”

“I know I am. Now, are we gonna--”

The door opens. Danny swears. “We were gone for twenty minutes,” Debbie says. “Are you that desperate?” Danny regrets going for the open-concept first floor, and he regrets it even more as Rusty pushes himself off with an air of utmost nonchalance.

“Here,” Lou says, lobbing a ball of fabric at Rusty. Her aim is remarkable, and Danny almost asks if she ever played softball before deciding he likes his well-being more than teasing his sister’s motorcycle-riding, brass-knuckle-owning girlfriend. It’s fine; next to him, Rusty huffs an amused laugh at the unsaid comment anyway. “Happy Christmas Eve.”

Rusty unfolds the fabric to reveal a truly hideous (and possibly offensive) Christmas sweater. It’s got red sleeves, a green torso, and a large, colorful fruitcake emblazoned on the stomach. Above it, in red and yellow, is text that reads FRUIT CAKE. “I love it,” Rusty says, pressing his lips together in that way that says he’s trying his damndest not to laugh. “It’s perfect.”

Lou opens her coat to reveal her own sweater, hers saying Ho Ho Homo. “I thought the theme was appropriate.”

“And for you, dearest brother,” Debbie says, pulling an atrociously-colored wad of wool out of a paper bag and chucking it at him, “you get the best of both worlds.”

With a mounting sense of horror, he recalls the year that he insisted on putting teal and orange streamers across the house, because it’s Hanukkah and Christmas mixed! That was the last year their parents had lived in the same house; Danny used to joke that it had been the final nail in the coffin for their mother. He pinches an edge of the cloth between two fingers and lets the rest fall open. It’s a Miami Dolphins holiday sweater. A teal-and-orange, festively-patterned Miami Dolphins sweater. Oh, his Boston-bred father would be frothing at the mouth. “We’re in Canada,” Danny says, equal parts shocked and awed. “How the hell did you get this here so quick? We were supposed to be meeting in Quebec until three days ago--”

“Danny, please learn what priority shipping is,” Debbie says. “Now c’mon. Wear it.”

There’s no way he can back out of this. If he refuses, she’ll just play the I thought you were dead card. He’s never regretted a decision more.

He puts on the sweater. Rusty-- his partner, his right hand, the love of his life-- wolf-whistles.

“I’m divorcing you,” Danny announces.

“Don’t worry,” Lou says with a grin, and is that her phone oh fuck she’s got a picture-- “Debbie, take off your coat.”

With the air of someone who has suffered the weight of the world, Debbie shrugs off her jacket. She’s wearing a matching sweater, and the dolphin on this one has a lovingly-embroidered smiling mouth stitched into it. Danny tries very, very hard not to laugh. “Shut it,” Debbie warns him.

“Oh, I’m not saying a thing,” Danny replies.

“We actually did get groceries,” Lou says, turning back to the door, “so--”

“Lemme give you a hand,” Rusty says. “Let these two bask in the joy of their new sweaters.”

“Fuck off,” Danny and Debbie say in unison. Rusty grins, cheery as ever, and leaves Danny’s side to follow Lou out the door.

“Great gift,” Danny says. “I’ll be laughed at by Reuben for the rest of my days.”

Debbie snorts, walking into the kitchen and rooting around in his cabinets. “Well, actually he’d-- wait, please tell me you didn’t, like, have gross old people se--”

“Shut up, Deborah,” Danny replies, feeling his neck heat up. “I’m only two years older than you. And no.” He refrains from adding on a “not this time.”

“Thank God,” Debbie says, pulling a glass out of the cupboard. “Anyway. Reuben’s not gonna laugh at you, he’s just gonna talk about your embarrassing baby stories in whatever groupchat you people have.”

Danny wonders how his baby sister got to be cooler than him. It’s very distressing. “That’s worse.”

“Yep,” she says, putting the pitcher down and picking her now-full glass up. She leans on the wall across from him, sipping her water, and narrows her eyes at him. “Are we, y’know... good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Danny says. Besides the thirty years of vaguely pretending the other didn’t exist.

“I’m not gonna answer that,” Debbie says. “But... I’d just like to make sure. ‘Cause you’re the only not-completely-insufferable blood relation I have.”

Neither of them say anything for a moment; Danny picks at a loose teal thread, trying to think of how best to phrase the thoughts rattling around in his head. “I don’t hate you,” he finally says. “And I don’t dislike you, either. You’re a pretty good sister. And a great thief.”

“I know,” she replies. “I’m not gonna say it back, ‘cause then you’re gonna get an inflated ego.”

“Works for me,” Danny says, grinning a little.

“I guess it’s just... I mean, I let all the old resentment get in the way of, y’know. Having a decent relationship, personally or professionally.”

Danny nods. He’s still got the scar from the time they both went after the Ruby of the Isle; he’d won, but just barely, and only because he had Rusty and she hadn’t found Lou. But at the end of the day, neither of them have tried to kill the other, and they still did grow up together, playing in Atlantic City casinos and building sand castles under the boardwalk. “I think we’re too old for that now.”

“You’re the old one here,” Debbie replies, no bite in the remark.

“Only two years,” he reminds her. “But I did the same thing as you, letting petty grudges get in the way of family, and for that I’m sorry.”

“I am, too.”

“Thanks, Debs.” He frowns. “They’re taking a really long time to get the groceries, aren’t they?”

As if summoned, the door opens, and Rusty and Lou, each with a measly two bags in their hands, walk in. And Rusty has his phone in his hands. “Rus, I swear--”

“Too late,” Rusty grins, as the shutter sound rings out through the living room. “That outfit has already been immortalized.”

“Have I already said I’m divorcing you? I’m divorcing you.”

“Does it count as fratricide if he’s your brother-in-law?” Debbie asks.

“Disproportionate reactions,” Rusty accuses. “Besides, I’ve already sent it to Linus.”

Danny’s eyes widen. “Not Linus.”

“You heard me.”

His phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s a text from Linus Caldwell himself, consisting of a single thumbs-up emoji and two grinning cats. “You’re all terrible people. Terrible, terrible people.”

(the sweater rusty is wearing is real) (as is lou’s) (and the ocean siblings’)

#oceans 11 #oceans 8 #danny ocean #debbie ocean #rusty ryan #danny x rusty #debbie x lou #lou miller #my writing

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livinghostly · 4 years ago

Text

one missing firefly

theo raeken x reader

not my gif!

words: 2900

request/summary: even with the newest threat to beacon hills, the reader is hesitant to accept theo's help. to her misfortune, scott sends them out together to take back something stolen. as usual, the plan falls through.

warning: fighting, blood

a/n: i still write for my favorite apathetic bastard <3 i'm not sure how many parts this'll have

[...]

"are you sure they have it?" stiles probed, one arm crossed over his chest and the other picking at his lips. "like, 100%? you didn't just lose it in one of your many, many cross country trips fleeing from law enforcement?"

exasperated sighs echoed from around the room, drawing an offended expression on to his face. it was dark outside and the pack's tiredness had escalated to shared frustration, being woken up or pulled out of their plans at 12 a.m. with a sudden house call from scott.

you stood over the kitchen table with both hands on the wood, pushing your tongue against the inside of your cheek. you rocked on your heels, looking up at the rest of the pack, and other additions.

scott was standing on the other side of the table, listening intently to the conversation. he met your gaze and shrugged, as if asking you to stay and listen a little longer.

derek closed his eyes and clenched his jaw in annoyance. "yes, i'm sure. before they broke in, it was there. now, it's not."

a new round of hunters had infiltrated beacon hills after more mysterious news coverage had spread outside of the town's close quarters. they were more of exterminators, they had no code, no ethics. they wanted to eradicate every last living supernatural creature, despite the clean history they may have.

hours ago they had broken into derek's loft, and if he'd chosen to fight instead of run he wouldn't have made it out. when he returned, it was ransacked. they were looking for something, and they found it.

the container of nemeton wood, which held the nogitsune.

"why would– why would they take it?" liam asked, he was standing in the doorway next to stiles, who nodded along. "if it's supernatural and they have it, isn't that good? they'll keep it contained."

you licked your lips, "it's leverage. and if they're desperate they could set it free, into a new host.

"i don't doubt that void will have a vendetta for us," lydia spoke up. "we put that thing in a box for over two years to rot after ruining his game. if they let him go, he'll come back. and he'll tear us apart."

silence settled over the room, your pack members shifted their gazes fo the floor to cope with the tension that filled the space. stiles looked the most ruffled, messing with his fingers whilst deep in thought.

"you okay?" your voice broke through the air, barely above a whisper but it caught everyone's attention. their heads snapped up to you, and then followed to stiles.

he sighed. "i'm not all that enthusiastic of the spirit that once possessed me coming back with a vengeance."

malia nodded, crossing her arms. "then, we stop them. we know where they're staying, we go in, and we get it."

"yeah," scott said in confidence, but the expression on his face was uncertain. too long of silence passed until he continued. "we'll figure out a way. me, and derek."

they were the strongest, you knew it was what he was getting at. and he was right, out of all of you, a true alpha and an evolved werewolf were the ones who would have the best chance at bringing down a pack of hunters– maybe liam, too.

but this wasn't a fight on neutral ground, it would be on their turf.

"not to step on your toes, scott, but that's a terrible idea," you said, straightening your posture. he raised his eyebrows, surprised, and multiple heads turned to you in question. "it's a hunter's den. it'll be lined with mountain ash, you won't get past the welcome mat and you'll kill yourself trying."

"so, what are you saying?" he shrugged.

you swallowed, but stated strongly, "i'm saying i'll go."

you didn't have claws or amplified abilities, and you didn't need them. you had enough experience with weaponry and hand-to-hand to defend yourself, he knew that. you knew the thought process of a hunter, what to look for and how to look over your shoulder as second nature. derek helped you fight like a werewolf– in addition to the years of supernatural encounters riding on your back, you were enough.

but scott seemed to have his own internal conflict. he looked past you, his eyes fixated on something. silently begging, you could tell, as he drew his eyebrows together and tilted his head to the side.

you looked over your shoulder and spotted theo, strewn over the couch with apathy. he was so quiet you'd almost forgotten he was there, mostly observing the pack meeting. he rarely said anything unless he was directly involved in the discussion or there was a sly remark aimed at him. and when he did open his mouth, he was shut down by malia or stiles.

he raised his eyebrows, seemingly bored. he met your gaze.

widening your eyes, you turned to scott. "no."

"y/n, you can't go alone. you need someone that can fight and go through mountain ash."

"then, i'll go with–" you searched around the room, and gestured to the boy in the doorway. "stiles. he has a bat."

"that's not exactly inconspicuous," scott chuckled weakly.

"i don't need inconspicuous, i'm not ringing the doorbell!"

"i'll go," theo spoke up, breaking the staring contest you held with scott. his voice drew the room to a silence, and the pack point their eyes to him, but you refused to turn around and look at him again.

you heard the couch shift beneath his weight, and then he brought himself to his feet. your gaze flickered to malia, who's nostrils flared in silent defiance as he stepped closer to you.

"i don't need you to go," you growled.

"i don't see any other volunteers." he glanced around the room, your pack members averted their eyes shamefully. but no one spoke up.

you couldn't blame them, the hunters were terrifying and all of you– even stiles –had been at the barrel of their guns at least once. they were worse than the argents are the calaveras ever were.

but you were unmoved by his words, and turned around to face him with a cold expression.

scott sighed. "he's right. and we can trust him."

"until he stabs us in the back, again," stiles spoke up. "or sticks his claws into someone's chest, again. probably yours, scott. again."

"i've done a lot for this pack," theo said, raising his eyebrows as he looked around the room. "and i'm not even in it. i'm here to help you guys."

"you're here because you don't want to be put back into the ground," you shot back, narrowing your gaze. he looked to you, annoyed with your disapproval.

the pack began to bicker back and forth, forming sides. aggression began to seep out of everyone, it was written on their faces. the majority of the pack trusted theo, whilst you, malia and stiles didn't even want him in the room.

as argumentative as theo was, he wasn't saying anything. he kept his arms crossed, listening to the chaos unfold as everyone vouched for their own solution.

there was only one person who could make the final vote.

"enough!" scott demanded in a shout, his voice becoming distorted with a low growl slipping through. all eyes turned to him as he heaved, and after a few seconds passed, his voice became soft again. "theo is going with you. both of you are safer that way."

you adjusted your jaw, resisting the urge to argue further. a sigh passed through your lips. "fine."

two p.m. is when you decided that it would be the path of least resistance to get in and out. they spent most of the days away from home, slithering through the town, watching and waiting for someone to slip up and reveal their true colors.

they'd been asking around, feigning as journalists or investigators to the townspeople to get leads on some of the creatures. at night, they would hunt or go back home to sleep, depending on the progress they made that day.

you stepped carefully through the woods, keeping on the trails and avoiding any sticks or leaves that could break under your feet. theo, a few feet behind you, wasn't so careful. his footsteps were heavy and racked up the dirt beneath them.

"you've never dealt with real hunters, have you?" you asked aloud. when the anuk-ite had infested beacon hills it turned everyone into killers, not hunters. they were inexperienced and trigger happy, but that wasn't the case now.

he stiffened, the weight of his heels digging into the leaves and drawing a crunch. he continued walking, keeping his head to the ground as he stepped around the loud obstacles. you smirked to yourself.

"not exactly," he responded.

an awkward silence filled the air, flowing between you constantly. you tried to shove off that feeling, as well as the hyperawareness you had to his presence, and kept your eyes peeled for any sudden movements or traps as you approached the property.

suddenly, you stopped in your tracks. theo kept walking until he was nearly against your back, following your gaze steadily. over the hill was the house, seemingly abandoned, it looked like it hadn't been touched in years.

licking your lips, you turned to him. "can you hear anything? a heartbeat?"

theo swallowed, and looked to the side as he focused. his jaw clenched as he strained to hear. "no, nobody's home."

"this is a good start," you breathed, continuing your trek up to the property. you circled around to the back of the house, theo following your every step.

suddenly, he spoke up. "i don't know much about this plan."

"get in, get the triskele box, and get out."

"it can't be that simple, it never is."

you rolled your lips back into your mouth, walking up to the back patio. it was covered in dust and the boards of wood looked as if they were ready to snap in half at too sudden of weight.

he huffed at your silence and continued, "what if something goes wrong?"

"what if you just trust me?" you countered, stopping at the door. you cast a glance over your shoulder and placed a hand on the doorknob.

"you would have to trust me first."

you frowned, and pushed open the door carefully. it lead into a kitchen, where the majority of the space on the countertops were coated with dust and cobwebs. there was a leather holster laid out, numerous knives missing, and the others that were left had been wiped clean of blood with a red-stained rag thrown to the side.

the windows were boarded up on the outside, creating a darkness over the room. you could still see, but it was difficult.

there was ruined furniture around covered in plastic wrap and shards of glass on the floor swept to the wall out of the walkway.

"this place doesn't feel too welcoming," theo whispered, his voice alerting you how close he was, practically stepping on your heels.

you opened one of the cabinets, searching for it, but there were only broken or stained plates left. "go upstairs. i'll check down here." you turned and met his eyes, he was reluctant to leave. "and if you find it, don't open it."

he raised his eyebrows. "i'd appreciate it if you had a little more faith in me."

before the conversation could continue, he followed your orders and turned around towards the living room. when he walked, he nearly dragged his feet across the ground and let his weight sink into the floorboards. painstakingly loud, without the belief that there was a reason to be quiet.

each cabinet you opened only left you more frustrated, finding nothing more than bugs and abandoned silverware. after you deserted that idea, you turned to the living room.

you peaked into the fire place first, finding a collection of guns hidden away inconspicuously. but no box. you rolled your eyes at the armory and turned towards the other side of the room, your gaze falling to the couches. they looked scratchy and the cushions sank after being sat in too many times. there was something about it.

tilting your head, you walked behind it, and then bent down to the floor. you curled your hands underneath the bottom of the couch and lifted with a strained groan. not wanting to be loud, you gently set it down, now on it's flipped side.

"i don’t see anything up here!" theo called down, you could hear his footsteps coming towards the stairwell.

you knelt down, your eyes falling to a poorly reattached seem. it was holding something inside, heavy enough to create a dip. "it's okay, i think i found something."

he waltzed down the stairs, raising his eyebrows with surprise upon spotting you. he came closer, pausing in his tracks for a moment as you unsheathed a pocket knife, and then tiptoed for your side.

theo bent down as you were, his eyes on focused on you as you dragged the knife down the material of the couch. you were curious, your features contorting with concentration as the fluff began to sprout from the couch.

you dropped the knife to the floor and dug your hand in, searching blindly. you tried to hold back your wince as something sharp dragged along your skin, but he caught the expression.

"what? you okay?" he leaned forward, one hand on the ground to steady himself.

you nodded, "yeah, i just–" you stopped yourself as your fingers wrapped around the edge of a cylinder. it was rough against your flesh, and heavy as you began to pull it out.

you set it in your lap with narrowed eyebrows, you hadn't seen it in a long time. the wooden container decorated with a symbol– the triskele. you ran your thumb gently over it.

"that's it, right?"

"yeah," you met his gaze. he was ready to stand up and leave just the way you came, his eyes flickering from the box to your face.

"okay, then let's go."

you nodded, pulling your wounded hand into a fist.

he gently placed his hand on your wrist, turning it over and pulling at your fingers to expose the palm of your hand. fresh blood was slowly pooling, it had dripped on to the floor and stained the couch fluff. "you're bleeding."

sighing, you pulled it from his grasp. "it's not that bad." you brought yourself to your feet again and he mimicked your actions. "i'll fix it when we get back to scott's."

a new voice broke through the air. "i- i don't think i can let you do that."

you nearly jumped and looked past theo to the archway of the kitchen. he turned as well, spotting a boy only a few years younger than you holding a shotgun in his hands.

theo reacted before you had time to. he jumped towards the kid and grabbed the barrel of the gun and lifting it into the air as a shot rang out. he snarled, shining his yellow eyes and he pushed the boy further into the kitchen.

loosening your grip on the container, you leaned down and swiped your pocket knife on the ground. you set the box on one of the tables and pursued the boys in the kitchen, walking in on theo being thrown to the fridge, creating a large dent.

the unnamed boy turned to face you, raising his weapon into the air, and you ducked. he shot at nothing and you charged at his torso, pushing him to the ground. the shotgun clattered next to you, and you held your knife to his throat.

as you looked at him, your stance faltered. he couldn't be any older than fourteen, but he was strong. he had fear in his eyes, panic piercing into yours.

in your moment of weakness, he took his chance and punched you in the jaw. you leaned back and held the point of impact, allowing him to shove you off and to the floor. he picked up his shotgun again, and aimed it at you.

"okay, wait! wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" theo shouted, one hand on the counter to steady himself as he nearly stood over you. there was blood seeping from her corner of his mouth, as well as his stomach. "she's not like me, okay? she's human."

the boy was unmoved, keeping his stance and watching you prop yourself up on your forearms.

theo continued, "we'll leave the container, and we can go. but if you shoot her, i'll rip your throat out."

"no," the hunter said, his lip twitched. "they wouldn't like it if i let you go."

he turned the shotgun around, facing the butt of it towards you. for a moment, you found yourself confused thinking his actions betrayed his words. but then, he raised it further up before bringing it back down against your forehead.

#theo raeken #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken fic #reader x theo raeken #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fic #spleen writes

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maknaesdancersrappers · 5 years ago

Text

Devoted 2

part 9

Overall warning/s: kinkier smut (eg. voyeurism, exhibition, etc.) character death, dark themes

Just how devoted is Jaehyun to you?

prev: part 8

wc: 8.2k

You could hear voices outside. You peek out of one eye, blinded by the light after being shut for so long and automatically forced them open when you realized it was the sunlight coming from the window that blinded you. You whipped your head towards the little alarm clock on your nightstand, blinking at the red numbers that read 10:54 AM.

Shit.

You sat up, cussing at yourself when your head began to spin. Pausing for a moment, you realized you didn’t have anything planned today aside from getting groceries for tonight’s get together. Still, you scold yourself, you shouldn’t be oversleeping; not after last night’s events.

Then you heard voices outside your room again. It sounded like Jaehyun, but why was he still home? The other voice took you a moment to register, but eventually recognized it as Yuta’s. Why were they here at this hour? You swung your legs over the bed and trudged to the bathroom to freshen up. When you were done, you threw on some decent clothing and peeked out of the door.

You froze when you met eyes with a complete stranger, heart dropping to the floor as you assumed the worse. He doesn’t seem to notice your distress at his presence, respectfully bowing his head and quietly greeting you a good morning. It throws you off for a moment until Jaehyun appears behind him and smiles at you.

“Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well?”

“I,” You looked down the hall and spotted a couple more men, dressed in the same shirt as the first one, talking to Yuta, “Yeah… aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“Not today. I’m having the security cameras installed. Get your phone, by the way, so you can download their app.”

You got your phone and followed him out into the living room, where Yuta smiles at you.

“Good morning! I hope we didn’t wake you up.” He gestures to his employees.

“Not at all! If anything, I should be thanking you for doing so since I overslept.”

He motions for you to come closer, pointing to a dark gray box by the television, “Here, the QR code for the app is on the camera’s router. It saves every footage from each camera and only you two have access to it; or a third party of your choice in case of emergencies, which I recommend you doing. Jaehyun is already designated as the admin, unless you have any qualms on that.”

You playfully hum, jutting your bottom lip out and crossing your arms, “I do, actually.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “You can be the admin to it, dear.”

“I’m kidding, does it really matter which one of us is the admin?” You opened up your phone’s camera and placed it over the QR code. It sends you to a website, titled Nakamoto Technologies, that has a small text greeting Jaehyun, and a unique download button for the app. You tapped on the button and waited for it to download.

“Sir,” One of Yuta’s employees came forward, “We’re done with installing the cameras.”

“Ah, good. Please set it up as well.” He nods, turning to you and Jaehyun, “Come watch so you’ll know what to do in case there’s a system error or reboot.”

You gather at the kitchen table where the man opens up their company laptop and begins to go through the steps one by one.

As his employee demonstrates, your phone vibrates to notify you that the download has finished and you launch the app. You’re taken to a feed of the hallway outside your apartment, where one of the employees is checking the camera and gives a thumbs up.

“Door cam is live.” The man in front of you announced.

You swiped right and the feed changed; you saw yourself along with the others and you looked over to where the camera was at. It was a small dark dome in the corner of the ceiling, barely noticeable at first glance and could even pass off as a light fixture.

“Living room cam is live. So is the hallway camera and kitchen camera. Waiting for the balcony and bedroom camera feeds.”

A part of you still didn’t feel safe as you watched the other camera feeds connect. If the person does get in, the only thing these cameras can do is alert Jaehyun and be a witness to the possible crime done onto you. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. You’re still praying to every higher being that this is all some prank and whoever Kun was trying to tell you about is just a thing of the past.

You feel a hand come over your shoulders and Jaehyun squeezes you lightly, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You dismissed, “Just need some coffee. Would any of you like anything?”

After they assured you they were fine, you ambled over to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee. You glanced at the kitchen camera; it didn’t look noticeable either. Choosing the hazelino muffin flavor and popping the bronzy pod into the Nespresso machine, you leaned against the counter and waited for it to brew. Did Jaehyun take a day off today just to have the cameras installed? Or is he coming into work when they’re finished?

Today, Ten was coming in from Thailand to visit and everyone was adamant to get together. Fortunately, you and Jaehyun already volunteered to host the gathering. You had to go to the grocery to pick up some ingredients for the food you had planned on serving. Would Jaehyun accompany you? You glanced over your shoulder just as your coffee was ready and saw Jaehyun and Yuta talking seriously.

Her personal camera.

That’s what you could read from your fiance’s lips. Personal camera? For what?

Images from that time in his office and the lewd video saved on his computer flashed in your head, bringing a wave of heat over your cheeks.

Oh.

You picked up your coffee mug and softly blew at it, wondering if Jaehyun had ever watched that video back.

A cell phone rang behind you and Jaehyun’s voice took over the abrupt halt of the ringtone.

“What? She hasn’t been home for 3 days?”

The concern in his voice makes you spin around. Who was he talking about?

“How about our cameras? Nothing?” He puts a hand over his forehead and uses his thumb and ring finger to rub circles on his temples, “Okay. Yeah, no, she—she’s fine. They’re done installing here. I’ll let her know. You take care, too, hyung.”

That must have been Yunho, then. You let out a little gasp; were they talking about Mina? Dread and worry began to bubble in your stomach. Could the person who sent the note be the reason why Mina is missing? Was she kidnapped? You put your mug down and paced towards Jaehyun, “Was that about Mina?”

He frowns, “Y-yeah, it was. Yunho said her family requested for a welfare check after she didn’t contact them like she usually does when she gets home. The police have been contacted already.”

“I hope she’s okay.” You bit down on your lip, “Nothing seemed strange when she left for work the day she was last seen?”

“No, she went home with one of the secretaries, Sera. But Sera says they separated at the train station because Mina said she was going to meet someone and that was the last of their interaction. Mina never mentioned who she was meeting or where exactly she was going.”

“Then police should search up any surveillance cameras around the area to determine where she went off to.” Yuta interjected, “There’s bound to be establishments that have their own CCTVs that caught her.”

You put a hand on Jaehyun’s arm, “Please update me about her situation, okay?”

“Okay.” He pulled you forward and kissed your forehead, “I’m sure she’s fine. Let’s not think the worst has befallen her.”

“Even so, she looks like someone who would put up a good fight before going down.” Yuta curtly chuckles before he clears his throat. “Looks like the setup is done and everything is working fine. If they’re are any problems, I’m a call away.”

“Thank you, Yuta. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for this?”

“Let’s call it an engagement gift.” He grins brightly, “And if you want the same setup for your house, we’ll call that a housewarming gift.”

Yuta and his workers left shortly afterwards, leaving you to return to your coffee and Jaehyun insisting he’ll cook lunch for the two of you.

“What time does Ten arrive?” He asks, washing his hands at the sink.

“Two, I think. He’ll have a few hours to rest up a bit at his hotel.” You take a lengthy gulp of your coffee, softly moaning at the warmth coating your throat. “Oh, I have to go to the grocery!”

Jaehyun hums, “Okay, let’s go around three?”

You smile to yourself; of course he wouldn’t let you go alone. You definitely did not mind. It’s been a while since the two of you went grocery shopping together. “Sounds good. I’m sure they’ll be here at 9 so there’s plenty of time to cook and dilly dally.”

“Dilly dally?” He repeats, clearly amused as he spares you a glance before fetching ingredients in the refrigerator. “What exactly do you mean by dilly dally?”

“Whatever you want it to mean as, baby.” You shot back with a wink, “But it feels so tense lately, a bubble bath sounds good right now.”

“You deserve one, baby.”

You pout, “I think you deserve one, too. Even a massage.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, unable to contain his smile. “Should I call for a masseuse later?”

“Like I’d let any other woman touch you for too long.” You huffed, jutting your bottom lip out at the thought.

“I’d still like a massage though. If I do the dishes, can I get a happy ending?”

“Of cou— have you ever received a happy ending massage?!”

He bursts out laughing, “No, I haven’t. Don’t worry. Are those even still a thing? Like there are still salons that offer that?”

“I don’t know and we never will because we can handle it ourselves, okay?”

“Baby, calm down, do you honestly think I’d avail that from anyone else aside from you? Besides, I only found out about those when I was in high school.”

Your ears perked up at this, “High school?”

“Yeah, I told you how my friends back then were basically scum, right? Every week, especially after training, they’d get massages. I went once and the girl offered the happy ending service — which I didn’t really understand until she tried reaching for my dick and I declined it.” He practically shuddered at the memory, pausing from chopping onions. “I never went with them again.”

This was the first time he openly talked about something from when he was in high school. It’s not a happy memory, but he’s still opening up.

“Do you really hate them? Your friends from high school, I mean.”

Jaehyun doesn’t respond at first and you patiently wait for him to set aside the vegetables he’s cut before he looks at you. “I still had fun with them, I guess. If it weren’t for the vices, I would have liked to stay friends with most of them.”

You’re finished with your coffee, bringing it over to the sink to wash and put it away on the rack. Afterwards, you walked over to Jaehyun and kissed his cheek as a silent thank you for opening up.

He glances at you with an unsure smile, knowing you kissed him for something but wasn’t sure on the cause, so you took the chance to kiss his lips.

“I’ll set the table.” You quietly murmured after he pulled away.

Instead of the actual dining table, you only laid out the kitchenware on the breakfast counter. Jaehyun finished cooking just as you got two bowls full of rice and sat yourself down on the barstool. He brings over the food after plating and plays a song on his phone after quickly hooking up the bluetooth speakers from the living room.

You both start eating, appreciatively moaning at the burst of flavor dancing on your tongue. What you’d do to have Jaehyun cook for the two of you permanently if he wasn’t so busy with work.

“Oh, right. My mom called this morning. She found two possible wedding venues for us already.” Jaehyun informs you after swallowing. “One is a high end resort and the other is a private property; a friend of hers. I think it’s Yebin’s aunt.”

“Doesn’t the resort sound better? We can reserve rooms for the guests.”

“If we choose the resort, we’ll be reserving the whole place.”

You almost choked on your food, “We barely have 50 guests, Jaehyun. I don’t think we have to reserve the entire place. There are people who could have been waiting to book that place for a vacation.”

He purses his lips, “Then let’s go with my mom’s friend. It’s a villa they own for their family’s vacation homes and they have cherry blossom trees that fit the color scheme you want. We could have the entire place for ourselves. We wouldn’t need that much security either.”

Pushing the rice around your bowl with your chopsticks, you silently reminded yourself how prominent of a family Jaehyun belonged to. It would make headlines, of course, and there’s bound to be press trying to sneak a few shots of the wedding. Privacy is top priority among the Jungs.

“Okay. But can we do an ocular?”

“Oh, uhm…” Jaehyun trails off, “I might have an overseas trip this weekend. Is it okay if only you and mom go? Her friend is only available this week, too, before she heads back to Europe.”

You’re a little disappointed, but you’re not going to tell him you want him there because you’re certain he’ll do everything in his power to cancel the trip for a petty request. You nod your head, “I don’t mind! In fact, maybe I’ll ask my mom to tag along and we can have a nice girl’s weekend.”

“That sounds great.” He grins, “Ask Minkyung and Yebin as well, maybe they’re free.”

“If we want cherry blossoms to bloom on our wedding day, that would give us six months from today.” It’s the middle of September and Spring starts in April. “Isn’t that too quick? Doesn’t wedding planning take at least a year?”

He reaches over the table and puts his hands over yours, “Would you rather have me preserve cherry blossom trees for our wedding?”

You feel your eyes almost bugging out at the suggestion, “That… sounds expensive… preserve a tree?”

“No, love, a couple of trees. We can’t just have one, maybe six? And you know I wouldn’t mind spending millions for our wedding.”

“Well I mind!” You groaned, “But honestly, a spring wedding is the most ideal for me, if not a winter one.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “I don’t mind having a wedding for each season, baby. If you’re worried about the cost and the possible annoyance of our friends and families at having four weddings, then we could always just dress up for the occasion and do it ourselves.”

This makes you laugh while shaking your head in disbelief, “Just say our vows, kiss, and dance for a night?”

“Who knows, maybe for the winter ‘wedding’, we’ll be three.”

It didn’t click in your head at first what he had meant at first because as cheesy as it sounds, the way he looked at you with soft, gleaming eyes had you distracted for a moment, but his thumb moves across your knuckles and you have visions of his hand running over your swollen belly.

“That soon?” You lightheartedly teased, moving your hand so your fingers intertwined.

“I said ‘maybe.’” He squeezes your hand, “We’ll have a baby whenever you’re ready.”

“Well then,” You retract your hand away from his when you see both your plates are empty, “I can promise you that you don’t have to wait a year.”

You stand up and start to reach for his plates but he lightly swats your hands away.

“Nuh uh, not today. I’ll do the dishes.”

“But you already cooked for us.”

“And I’ll clean up for us, too.” He drags your plate away from you and stands up as well. “For a price, of course.”

The coy smile on his face makes you narrow your gaze at him. Putting a hand on your hip, you cocked a brow, “And that price is?”

He winks at you, “It involves your mouth.”

“That’s it?” You scoffed, sashaying over to his side of the table, “Easy.”

The smug look on his face is instantly wiped away when you grab his crotch and he winces in shock.

“I—I meant later—”

“Oh, I know. Just warming it up.”

Jaehyun tries to move away, but ends up bucking his hips into your touch when you flex your hands. The pained expression on his face makes you giggle, seeing the conflict of trying to be sane enough to do his chores or just giving into your temptation.

You pull away and cross your arms, “I’ll go run us a bath now.”

“God damn it.” He grumbles, but sucks in a breath and forces out a smile, “Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Take your time.”

“No the fuck I won’t.”

You burst out laughing, spying the annoyance in his features as he walks past you after gathering the plates in his hands. You make your way down the hall, glancing at the newly installed camera without much thought, and head inside the bathroom. As you run the bath, you peruse through your small collection of bath bombs and pick out a pink and grayish-purple one with a rose design. Giving it a quick whiff, you sigh at the scent of jasmine and ylang-ylang invading your senses. Any other day, Jaehyun would have probably preferred the green tea and peppermint one (although you’re convinced he’s only amused that it’s shaped like a dinosaur) but you’re certain he’s going to love this one just as much.

You gently lower it into the warm water, the instant fizzing of the bath bomb as it disintegrates in your hand tickles you. You let it float on its own to turn the tap off and decide to get it before Jaehyun comes. However, as you were halfway through tugging off your shirt above your head, a pair of hands slithered over your bare waist from behind to your chest. You toss your shirt to the side and strained your neck to look at Jaehyun, who merely smiles.

“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just warming it up.”

“Enough warming up, the water will get cold.” You pushed against him using your butt as you peeled down your shorts and underwear.

He steps back and you think it’s so he could take off his clothes, but then you feel his hands on your ass, spreading your cheeks apart so he could access your pussy with his tongue. You fall forward, grabbing onto the edge of the tub with a loud gasp.

“Jae—”

He moans and the vibrations affect you as well. You weren’t very keen on this position, not when his nose is just poking at your anus, but he obviously doesn’t mind.

“Jaehyun,” You whimpered when his tongue reached your clit, “The water.”

He relents, standing up after delivering a soft smack on your pussy, but doesn’t let go of your body. “I know, I know.”

You straighten yourself up, only to flinch when he snakes his hand between your legs. “If you keep doing that, I’ll feel bad about wasting this bath I ran.”

He chuckles, kissing your shoulder, “Which one is this one?”

“It’s jasmine-scented.” You push his hand away and spin around, grabbing hold onto the edge of his shirt. “It’s called Sex Bomb.”

His eyebrows shoot up ever so slightly, “Is that so? Well, let’s get my clothes off and hop in.”

“If you could have just kept your hands to yourself for just a second, we could have breezed through that step ages ago.” You pulled his shirt up and he shrugs it off completely, tossing it to where you discarded your shirt. You then push his sweats down and he kicks it off to the side.

Getting into the tub first, you wait for him to make himself comfortable before sitting between his legs and leaning back on his chest. The water’s temperature was just right, not too hot for the two of you to be bothered or too cold for either of you to get sick.

“Can we please make joined bath times a weekly thing?” You sighed, hugging onto one of his arms that slung around you.

“Baby, you read my mind.” Jaehyun kisses the back of your head. “Now, about that payment for earlier.”

You rolled your shoulders back, exaggerating your movements, “Ooh, my body still feels a bit stiff though.”

Jaehyun scoffs behind you, bringing his hands over your chest, “That’s it?” Mocking your tone from earlier, “Easy.”

“A new house!” Ten exclaims, pounding his fist on the table, shaking the cocktails in their glasses. “Tell me when and where so I can clear my schedule for the housewarming!”

“Knowing Jung, it’s not just a house.” Yebin makes a remark as she narrows her eyes at you for confirmation, to which you move your head around in a nonchalant manner, and she scoffs, “Of course.”

“Heard the Kangs bought new land down south.” Jaehyun snides, laid back on his chair with his arm draped on the back of yours. “Is it another private property or are you commercializing it?”

She snorts, rolling her eyes, “Of course we’re commercializing it. A resort we’ll have the honor of staying at before it even opens.”

Doyoung makes a face at her, “So, we’re the guinea pigs?”

Everyone laughs when Yebin unabashedly shrugs her shoulders and crinkles her nose.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, perking up in your seat. “Speaking of private property, Yebin, Minkyung, are you guys free this weekend? I’ll be doing an ocular for the wedding venue and it would be a great girl’s weekend—”

Minkyung gasps with visible excitement in her eyes, “Bachelorette party?!”

“Do you want strippers—ow!” Yebin yelps, jerking up and hitting her knee on the table. She glares at Jaehyun, “What are you, 12?”

“Our mothers are coming along.” He grits through his teeth before taking a sip of his whiskey. “I suggested having the two of you tag along since I’ll be out of the country this weekend.”

“Well then, I’m in! We can plan the actual bachelorette party there.” Minkyung gleefully chirps, smiling at you.

“No—ow!” It was Jaehyun’s turn to cry, hitting the underside of the table so hard that the forks clattered.

“Johnny, plan this man a bachelor’s party!” Yebin elbows the man beside her, who’s brows shoot up as he glances at Jaehyun.

“Okay. Leave it to me.”

Jaehyun grimaces and you laugh at his expression, knowing he can’t stop Johnny now if he says those four words.

“Enough about us!” You wave your hand around, feeling warm from your fourth glass of wine. “How about you guys? Dons? Are you still hooking up with that divorce attorney?”

Doyoung almost spat out his whiskey, quickly grabbing a napkin to dab his lips. Everyone begins to jeer as he coughs loudly, “Uhm, yeah, every other week. Just to destress, you know?”

“Nice.” Yebin raises her wine glass at him, but he just makes a face at her. “Oh my god, imagine if you accidentally knock that chick up. You’d have a kid before these two.”

“Not a chance. She’s both on pills and film.” Doyoung vehemently shuts the idea down, shaking his head in denial. “I’m not fit to be a dad either.”

“Aw, Dons,” You coo, “You don’t know that. Didn’t you have a name planned for a son back in high school?”

He sucks his teeth, looking up as he tries to remember, eyes growing wide along with a smile, “Oh, right! I think I said Jeno or something. I don’t know; that was for that project on genetics.”

“Oh my god,” Minkyung props her elbow up on the table and rests her chin on her palm, “Could you guys imagine all our kids being friends? That would be so cute. Please! We need to make them best friends, too!”

“Honey, that’s only happening if we all manage to get pregnant or impregnate someone in a specific timeline.” Yebin points out, taking another swig of her drink.

Minkyung pouts for a brief moment, using her free hand to meticulously tap her manicured nails rhythmically on the table before slapping the surface and leaning towards you. “When are you two having kids?”

You almost regurgitate your drink back into the glass, surprised that she was really contemplating the idea.

“[Y/N] promised we don’t have to wait a year after the wedding.” Jaehyun casually answers, swirling his whiskey around, “So maybe by the end of the next year?”

“Okay, I can do that.” Minkyung tells herself.

Yebin stares at her, “Min, you’re not actually thinking about having a baby just to make sure they’ll be besties with theirs. Think about your job.”

Minkyung worked as a model that was highly sought after by high end fashion brands and this barely gave her time to socialize since she flew to Europe and America for fashion weeks and photoshoots, let alone date someone.

“So I’ll be on hiatus for a few years, so what?” She waves her hand, “If these two are having kids, I am going to give them the best present: a best friend.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend.” Ten points out, “Gosh, do you even get laid?”

“You don’t know two shits, Ten.” Minkyung retorts in a sweet voice and an innocent smile. “Anyways, there’s something I am very curious about and I’m tipsy enough to ask it without regrets: what happened between you and Johnny?”

The table went silent for a moment before the two men in question burst out laughing.

“John, didn’t you tell them?”

“I was hoping I didn’t have to... with what’s going on and all but…” Johnny scratches his nape, letting out a heavy sigh, “Our relationship was just for shits and giggles. We established that from the get go especially since my parents arranged a marriage for me between a business partner.”

“I thought you got out of that?” Jaehyun asks, moving the hand behind to your shoulder and giving you a lazy massage. “The Bae conglomerate, right?”

Johnny nods his head, releasing another drawn out sigh before taking a sip, “Yeah, the one that hates men.”

“Irene?” Yebin’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head, “Her parents are arranging her marriage… with you?!”

“I’m sorry, is there something wrong with marrying me?” He says in faux offense, putting a hand over his chest and jutting his bottom lip out at her. “But, yeah, Irene. You know her?”

Jaehyun mumbles something into his glass about not being surprised about that, although those across the table — including Yebin — hears him, prompting Yebin to give him a pointed glare.

“Yeah, we were classmates. Kyeonggi Girls’.”

You licked your lips; “Kyeonggi…?”

“The elite all girls’ academy.” She flips her hair and bats her eyelashes at you, “Everyone was fake.”

“Why does that school sound familiar?”

“Because I went to Kyeonggi Boys’? Their brother school? Did you forget?” Jaehyun pinched your waist and you jerked towards him, backhanding his stomach for doing so. “But I agree, our school is a breeding ground for fakes.”

“I bet your schools had mandatory boy-girl interactions.” Johnny chuckled, “Did you two meet back then?”

“No. Thank god.” They said in unison, making everyone burst out into laughter while they share annoyed looks at one another.

“But, [Y/N],” Jaehyun clears his throat to cut the noise, “You mentioned before that we could have met back then.”

You frowned, not recalling what he was saying, “I did?”

“That interschool sports festival? You told me you won first place in swimming and my team won in basketball.”

“Oh!” You remembered now; during one of your first dates while you talked about competitive swimming, you mentioned winning an interschool competition and that was the time Jaehyun told you where he studied in high school after recognizing the said festival. You cupped his face, “I watched all the basketball games, though, I can’t believe I missed your face.”

“That’s because his visuals are just so-so back in high school. Kyeonggi Boys’ are assholes, but they’re hot. Jung must have blended right in, especially if he’s on varsity basketball.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended you clustered me with them as being assholes or flattered you called us hot.”

“Don’t let it get to your ego, Jung, your fiancee is right there. Besides,” Yebin leaned back, “Almost every girl in Kyeonggi’s wanted your dick. They loved the ice prince vibes; they didn’t even care that someone spread rumors that you were gay… I suppose it’s better that you two didn’t get together in high school because I’m sure my bitch ass classmates would tear your reputation apart.”

Jaehyun makes an indignant sound in retort, “I would have protected her if that had happened.”

Yebin makes a snide comment and sparks another little bicker between her and Jaehyun with Minkyung trying to calm both (mostly Yebin) down. You glance around the table, eyes a little heavy already; Ten and Johnny are talking to themselves about business, while Doyoung was on his phone. Sneaking a peek, you let out a scandalized gasp when you caught sight of the text he had just received.

“You? Sexting?” You put a hand over your mouth to further prove your shock at what you had witnessed. “Dons, just date the woman!”

His face goes bright red, eyes avoiding every gaze turned to him as everyone starts to tease him. “It’s nothing serious! I’m still not attracted to her, I just like the sex!”

“It always starts out that way.” Ten nudged him with his shoulder, “Just let yourself fall when it happens.”

“Anyways!” He exclaims, ready to change the topic, “Jaehyun’s bachelor party, yeah?”

“I don’t want one.” Jaehyun shakes his head, but the three other men have launched themselves into planning it.

“Invite Sicheng!” You butt into their conversation, “Oh, and Yuta, too!”

“Yuta?” Johnny repeats, “Nakamoto? Sure, why not. He’s a cool guy.”

“Ah, of Nakamoto Technologies?”

You knew Johnny knew Yuta, but you didn’t expect Doyoung to know him as well. “You know him, Dons?”

He shrugs, “Not really, but remember that emergency regarding a hack in our system? It was resolved, but the CEO wants to change suppliers. Nakamoto Tech was suggested to us and they seem efficient and trustworthy.”

“They handle our security systems, too. Both at work and here.” Jaehyun mentions, putting his hand back over your shoulder.

“He was here this morning.”

“But you’re moving, why do you need to install a security system here?” Doyoung asks, turning his gaze to where you gestured: the barely noticeable CCTV camera dome in the kitchen ceiling corner.

You open your mouth, ready to answer, but you hesitate, turning to Jaehyun instead, who seemed reluctant to give a reason as well. “Well,”

“Oh my god! Is it your stalker from college? He found you again, didn’t he?” Minkyung lets out a concerned gasp, putting her wine glass down.

You were ready to deny her allegations, but Jaehyun’s voice overpowers yours as he responds, “I’m afraid so. We’re tightening security up to catch him and put him in his place. That’s why I’m a little reluctant to go away for that business trip.”

You stayed quiet, confused as to why Jaehyun would say it was your college stalker, but then again it would be harder to explain why the two of you know that it’s not the guy from college. His hand finds yours under the table and he squeezes tightly with you returning the motion.

“Then hire a damn bodyguard for her!” Yebin yells, “You know you can’t be with her every waking hour and you can’t just lock her up, too!”

“I know that.” Jaehyun grits, “I’m already on top of it. I just haven’t run the idea by [Y/N] yet but I’ve already chosen two bodyguards for her.”

“Isn’t that too much?” You chewed on your bottom lip, glancing between Yebin and Jaehyun. “Do I really need two?”

“Yes.” They, along with Johnny, said. Jaehyun quickly follows up with, “It’s so that they can take turns. Think of it like morning and night shifts. If it were up to me, I would recommend two at a time.”

You shake your head, “I don’t need four bodyguards. But okay, if you think I really need them, then I’d like to meet the two you’ve chosen.”

“There’s a whole company worth of them if you don’t like the two I’ve picked out for you.”

“Oh, are these from Moon Security Services?” Johnny inquires, “Then you’ll be in good hands. Taeil has the best bodyguards and security personnel in the business. Don’t let his looks represent his employees, they’re all army trained.”

As you listened to their conversation, you picked a muscat grape from the platter in front of you and popped it into your mouth. Jaehyun, Johnny, Yebin, and Ten all come from rich families; it would be no surprise that they know who and what the best of best are. Minkyung, despite sharing the same last name as Yebin, isn’t from the Kang Conglomerate, and she proclaims herself as the pauper of the group, yet she studied all her school life under a scholarship and now earns at least 5-digits in dollars as a model. You and Doyoung come from well-off families and work well-paying jobs as well, although yours depended on your clients which made you the one in the group that earned the least. It wasn’t something that bothered you, but moments like these reminded you of it. Without Jaehyun, you wouldn’t be sipping on Schiava or munching on expensive grapes every week. Without him, you wouldn’t be living comfortably in a penthouse and soon, in a mansion that could house four families. You’d like to think you would still do well even if you weren’t with Jaehyun, but the thought of not being with him isn’t something you let your mind dwell on.

You feel a kiss on your temple; you closed your eyes and let yourself smile. When Jaehyun pulls away, you peer up at him and he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Just drowning in my thoughts. Thanks for pulling me out.”

“Is it the stalker?” Minkyung asks, “Karma will bite his ass eventually, [Y/N].”

“I just… What would he want from me anyways? Why me?”

Jaehyun kisses your hair, “If it’s you he wants, then honestly, I don’t blame him.”

“And if it’s not that guy from college,” Yebin crosses her arms over the table, “Let’s say this guy is actually after you, Jung, and they’re going to use [Y/N] against you.”

“If that’s the case,” He grabs a grape and twiddles it between his fingers. “then I’ll deal with it accordingly.”

You silently watch in shock as Jaehyun slowly digs his thumbnail into the little fruit’s flesh, drawing out the sweet juice.

“If someone has a problem with me, then take it out on me. I’m not going to forgive anyone who lays a hand on [Y/N].” He cuts the grape all the way through, popping one half into his mouth. “It’s petty to drag people who aren’t involved into situations they’re not a part of or don’t even belong to.”

It was five in the morning when you woke up with a horrible headache. Last night — well, a couple hours ago — you made the horrible decision to drink 3 bottles of wine with the girls and switch to whiskey when neither of you could stand up to grab a new bottle of Schiava in the fridge. You begrudgingly rolled off the bed, noting Jaehyun wasn’t beside you. You’re not even sure if he got into bed… you don’t even know how you got to bed.

Your mouth was dry like sandpaper, just begging for some water so you trudged your way out to the kitchen. You peered into the guest room, spying Minkyung and Yebin on each of the twin beds, recalling how they claimed each one and banished the boys on the couch. Walking out of the hallway, you silently laugh at Johnny draped across one of the armchairs while Ten and Doyoung comfortably laid themselves on the L-shaped couch, all of them snoring in disharmony. The kitchen cub lights were on and you vaguely heard the sound of running water. Reaching your destination, you find Jaehyun putting away the last whiskey glass into the dishwasher before shutting it and wiping his hands on a towel. On the kitchen island, there were two glasses filled with water and two painkillers.

“Oh, you’re up.” Jaehyun turns around and looks surprised to see you.

“You did the dishes?”

“Well, I only meant to grab us some water and painkillers, but I thought I’d do them anyway.” He gestures to the glasses you’ve already spotted. He cheekily grins at you, a little lopsided that told you he was still drunk, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask for compensation.”

You giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, when his dimples appeared. You drink one of the glasses, gulping down half of it before letting out a satisfied sigh when your thirst is finally quenched. “Are we getting too old to get drunk like this?”

“Absolutely not.” Jaehyun tears one of the painkillers and tosses it into his mouth, “We’re in our mid-20’s, what are you talking about?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m still drunk.” You swallowed down the other pill and chased it with water, “If that thing Minkyung wants — if we all had children and they become best friends — we gotta let them drink when they want, alright? Not like, at 14 when they’re curious, but at like, barely legal age. That’s fine, right? As long as they’re at someone’s house — no clubs and whatnots. We’re gonna be cool parents.”

“Okay, [Y/N].” He pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek, “Let them drink at a barely legal age; got it.”

“It’s better they learn from us than some strangers. Give them enough freedom so they wouldn’t become rebellious or estranged. Promise me you’ll take our children out on daddy dates.”

“I promise to take our children out to daddy dates.” He repeats, “So mommy can have a spa day to herself.”

“We’re going to spoil them just enough so they wouldn’t turn into entitled brats.” You mumbled into his chest, “Promise me you’re not going to force them into inheriting the family business, especially if they want to become something else.”

“I promise, baby.” He kisses your cheek again, “Little [Y/N] can be anything she wants to be.”

“Hey,” You tilt your head back to see his face, “What if we have a son first?”

“Then what would you name him?”

You moved your hands to cup his cheeks, “Well, I don’t want him to be Jaehyun Jr. or Jaehyun the second… but I still want to name him after you. So maybe something with Jae?”

“Jaebeom? Jaeho? Jaegyu?” He pauses, “Uh… Jaemin?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll decide on it when I’m actually pregnant.”

Jaehyun ducks his head down and presses his lips against yours, “Okay.”

He leans forward again for another kiss, but you lightly push him away.

“Don’t be offended,” You swallowed, “But I want to throw up.”

“What? Then go to the bathroom!” He scolds in a playful manner before quickly escorting you to the toilet and holding your hair up for you.

“I should hire you once I save enough to move.” Minkyung states, moving her sunglasses up as a makeshift headband to inspect the little succulents on display, “You would know how I’d like my home. Something along the lines of light gray, green accents, and—”

“—a splash of pink.” You finished for her, throwing her a smirk over your shoulder as you checked the price of the snake plant.

“See! You know me so well.” Her face drops, “Unless I’m that readable.”

“No, it’s because I lived with you for 4 years.” You laughed, moving over to compare the plants side by side, “Also, you didn’t have to come with me.”

You and Minkyung met up for brunch earlier that day. It was Friday, a week after everyone met up, the day Jaehyun leaves for Hong Kong, and the day before you were scheduled to go check out the possible wedding venues with her, Yebin, and your moms. When you mentioned you had to run an errand for work, she invited herself with you.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Not after what you and Jaehyun told us last week, as if I’d let you be alone in public places. I’ll be with you as long as I can.”

“I have bodyguards, Min.” You peer out the large window to see two men outside, dressed in casual clothes, but had ear pieces and shades on. You met the pair first thing on Monday morning and learned they were cousins. Hyunwoo was older than you by five years while Jooheon was older by two years. They were big and intimidating upon first impression, but they spoke softly and humbly towards you whenever you talked to them. They initially wore suits as their uniform, but after they accompanied you to visit Kyungwon at your old office and accumulated pointed stares, you asked for them to wear casual clothes instead and wait outside or in the car. They drove you around, opened doors for you, and either one would always survey the area before you even arrived. It felt a little too excessive, but in the end all of this was for your safety and Jaehyun’s peace of mind.

Minkyung follows your gaze and pouts, “Well, they’re outside as per your request, but who knows what could happen in here with you.”

“Hyunwoo already checked the place out before we arrived, otherwise Jooheon wouldn’t have let us step foot in here.” You returned your attention to the task at hand; choosing some indoor plants for Yuta’s apartment. Personally, you wanted the peace lilies, but the yellow streaks of the snake plant complemented Yuta’s apartment as a whole. You also had to choose the perfect pot to go with it. “I think it’s too tacky to go with a yellow pot, even if it’s muted. Which is better, black or white?”

“See? You would be standing here all day if I didn’t come with you.” Minkyung rolls her eyes, “I like the white one!”

“If I were to design your new apartment, I’d fill it with plants and call it a day.” You joked, calling for one of the sales attendants.

“And you know what? I wouldn’t be mad about it.” She picked up a small succulent in a lightbulb shaped glass container, “You should try gardening in your new house, [Y/N]! It could be your pregnancy hobby.”

“My what?”

“Like, the hobby you pick up because you’re pregnant. Some people try knitting, some paint, you can try gardening!”

You don’t get to answer back as the sales attendant you flagged down finally came to you and you pointed out which plants you wanted to buy. After it’s settled you and Minkyung follow her to the counter where you fill up some forms to have it delivered to Yuta’s apartment when it’s ready. When you finish, you look back at Minkyung who still had the succulent in her hands, “Are you going to buy that?”

“Yes!” She grins, “I’ve already named it as well!”

“You… name your plants?”

“This is Cadbury.”

“...after chocolates?”

She sighs, “If it dies, then I’ll never eat that brand ever again.”

You stare at her for a good minute, trying to figure out if she was joking or not as she steps forward to the cashier and asks for the succulent to be wrapped. “Have you lost one yet?”

While she fishes out her card from her purse, she offers you a sad pout, “Nutella.”

“Miss [L/N] [Y/N]?” You turn your head to a polite voice over the counter and return the smile, “Hello ma’am! We received an order for flowers to be picked up by you today.”

“Aw!” Minkyung coos, “Jaehyun got you flowers?”

“I…” You paused, releasing a sigh instead and looked back at the sales attendant, “Okay, then, thank you.”

The lady excuses herself to retrieve the flowers at the back of the store and Minkyung leans her head on yours.

“Oh, [Y/N], I wish I’d find someone as sweet as Jaehyun. Did he know you were going here today?”

“Yeah, I texted him before we went here. It’s just weird though, he’ll usually pick it up himself and surprise me back home.”

“Maybe he’s too busy? His flight is tonight, right?” Just then, her eyes practically sparkled as an idea popped in her head, “Let me and Yebs sleepover! I’ll come once he’s gone and it’ll be more efficient for us the next day since we’re leaving before lunch.”

“Sure, I’ll ask Yebin right now.” You take out your phone just as the lady returns with a small, brown clay pot with reddish flowers. It wasn’t what you were expecting; he usually gave you roses or peonies, occasionally sunflowers, in bouquets, but never potted plants. Nonetheless, it’s still from Jaehyun and you readily accept it from the lady. “Oh, thank you. What are these?”

“Begonias, ma’am. If I may, it’s quite peculiar your partner would give you these flowers.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, ma’am, they symbolize caution.”

“Caution?” You and Minkyung said in unison.

The lady waves her hands, “But don’t take it too literally, ma’am. Since they are from your partner, it could mean gratitude and giving thanks.”

Jaehyun is romantic, but you don’t think he’s sensible enough to search up flowers and their symbolisms before giving them to you. With the current situation of him leaving, it could mean he just wants you to be careful and be alert while he’s gone.

After checking out the plants for Yuta’s apartment and Minkyung’s little succulent, you tucked the flower pot in your arms and made your way outside where Jooheon opened the door for the two of you. You dropped Minkyung off at her apartment and Hyunwoo drove you back to yours, where you set the flowers on the living room table and proceeded to pack your weekend bag and Jaehyun’s weekend luggage.

Jaehyun came home earlier than usual as he had a flight at 9PM and you greeted him at the hallway opening with a kiss.

“Minkyung and Yebin are coming over after you leave. They’ll sleepover as well so we don’t have to wait for each other tomorrow morning when we have to leave.” You informed him, watching him loosen his tie. “Are you hungry? I was about to make dinner.”

“I’m starving.” He sheepishly admits, prompting you to glare at him since it meant he had skipped lunch once more. “Work is piling up, baby.”

“That’s not an excuse.” You reprimanded, tiptoeing to kiss him once more, “But I understand. I’ll go get dinner ready. Go freshen up for your flight.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chases after your lips for a longer kiss before pulling away.

As you moved around him to get to the kitchen, you quickly spun on your heels to face him again, “Oh, and thank you for the flowers. The lady said it was an odd choice.”

You gesture to the begonias on the coffee table and Jaehyun stops untying his tie.

“Oh.” He says after a pregnant pause, “Are they?”

“Yeah and I get it, you want me to be careful. Don’t worry, I will be.”

“Is that what they meant?” He stares at the flowers and moves his attention back to you as you nodded, “They must have mixed up my order then… I’ll replace them.”

“No, you don’t have to. They’re pretty, don’t you think? You don’t have to replace them, besides, the lady said they could also mean gratitude.”

He licks his lips in contemplation, “Alright then.”

You smile at him, giving him another kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Jaehyun whispers back, watching you disappear into the kitchen.

He moves towards the coffee table, scrutinizing the potted red flowers under an intense glare. He wants to cancel his flight and stay with you; but this meeting had the whole Jung’s reputation on the line. There’s a horrible sick feeling in his gut and he could practically feel the familiar rush of anger in his veins. He would never give you flowers with such meanings — no, that’s not the problem — he never even ordered flowers for you today to begin with.

a/n: yay new update 🎉 i’m aiming to update with part 10 in a week or two, meaning the old schedule of uploading on Fridays will be back (hopefully) 🤞🏻 please let me know what you think of this chapter here 🥰

next: part 10

~ buy me a peach? but why?

#nct smut #jaehyun smut #nct scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #devoted au

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seokoloqy · 5 years ago

Text

A Hunter’s Mark | knj (m)

➳ PAIRING: hunter!namjoon x hunter!reader

➳ GENRE: fluff, f2l, Nevermore universe

➳ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

➳ WARNINGS: nothing too freaky, just making out, tiny bit of thigh riding action, yes I wrote c*ck, yes I wrote p***y but nothing else too detailed, implied smut, a little blood and injury

➳ SUMMARY: While Namjoon, the pacifist, has always been reluctant to kill beasts, you and him have officially been marked as hunters. Your first assignment doesn’t go as planned and it leads to confessions.

➳ A/N: you’ll be seeing a lot more of Namjoon in my necromancer fic, Nevermore! This is just a short little drabble expanding on the universe and Namjoons character ENJOY~

—

“Stop crying about it, Namjoon!” You shout, tugging on the back of his collar to get him out of bed. He’s been lying face down for hours and whining about the mark you both just received.

Today was your initiation as hunters. One of the rites included having a priestess sear a mark into your left eye that grants you the ability to see invisible supernaturals. It’s meant to aid you on hunts.

“I never even wanted this,” his muffled groan comes after you release his collar.

Namjoon has always been vocal about his disdain for hunting supernaturals. Despite his entire family being hunters, he refuses to follow the same path. He votes for living peacefully among vicious beasts instead of slaughtering them. He’s always had a weak heart. If he had seen the things you’ve seen—monsters tearing apart the innocent without mercy—he’d never hesitate.

“Everything is okay.”

He drags his face out of his pillow to look at you. His left eye, newly marked, is now a deep amethyst and where his pupil once was now in the shape of a pentagram. The pentagram represents protection from evil. It matches yours and all other hunters who’ve been marked.

“I saw a reaper today! She had this white veil on a-and scissors. How is that okay? I don’t want to see that!”

You’re starting to get frustrated with his whiny attitude. He needs to start seeing reality the way you do. Creatures like vampires and demons that prey on the vulnerable, sirens who seduce sailors to their doom with tempting songs, even mischievous fae that hide in the forest and lure victims in from town don’t deserve to live. They’ll never change like he wants to believe. All they do is destroy lives like yours.

You’d still have a family if they weren’t slaughtered by demons all for the fun of it. Experiencing tragedy like that is something Namjoon has never known and it’s exactly why he’s so naive to it all. You don’t want his delusions to end up killing him if he hesitates.

You don’t know what you’d do without him. Living a life without Namjoon is something you don’t want to imagine. It’ll be hard not to have his dimpled smile and warm hugs to comfort you or his intellect to get you out of trouble with the priestess. He’s always there to comfort and listen to your troubles, especially when dealing with the stress and fear that comes with being a hunter.

“Reapers won’t bother you unless they’re going to kill you. So please get up, Joon, I need you.” You grab one of his pillows and swing it at his head to motivate him.

He only glowers and buries his face back into bed.

“Come on! We have our first assignment,” you groan. “There are rumors that a vampire is staying at the inn.”

Namjoon grunts, shifting further away from you.

You settle yourself on the bed beside him, sighing dramatically. Your hand reaches up to card through his dark hair, leaning in closely to his ear. He can feel your breath on his blushing cheeks.

“If you don’t come I’ll go by myself without backup. And if I die I’ll ask the reaper to let me stay and haunt you.”

Namjoon visibly stiffens and finally turns his head back to you with a glare. He pushes himself out of bed and begrudgingly gets his things together.

—

The two of you walk towards the inn where the vampire is rumored to stay. At night the town of Nevermore becomes a quiet eerie place. The citizens never wander around at night in fear of being captured by anything lurking in the dark. Their biggest fear being so close to the ocean is the seductive siren’s song that is known for luring people out of their homes while they sleep.

You’re used to the emptiness at night with nothing but the ocean waves to calm your nerves. You glance at Namjoon who has been shuffling his feet behind you the entire time.

“Don’t be so mopey.”

He finally speaks up, “We don’t even know if this vampire has killed anyone.”

You roll your eyes. “Even if this one hasn't killed before, it will eventually. We need to stop it before that happens.”

“They don't have to kill,” Namjoon mutters. “If they find someone willing to give blood.”

You click your tongue, already knowing where he’s going with this. The kingdom to the North and its controversial vampire army that survives off the blood of volunteers.

Somehow they’ve managed to tame a whole group of vampires to serve them, but as a hunter, your instincts tell you those vampires are just waiting to attack unsuspected.

That kingdom doesn’t allow hunters, so it remains a mystery to you whether or not they use volunteers or sacrifice up their citizens as lambs to slaughter. You vote for the latter.

But there’s one thing that’s for sure. On the battlefield they’re the ruthless monsters you’ve always known, ripping apart the enemy and dancing victoriously in their blood. Their army is an unstoppable beast that is too dangerous to exist.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you groan. “As if anyone is insane enough to offer their blood to a blood thirsty vampire. Now come on. We still have a vampire to hunt.” You extend your hand out to him which he reluctantly takes, allowing you to drag him along. Your fingers curl around his hand, feeling the pulsing warmth.

“Right,” he sighs, following after you towards the inn.

—

Your first hunt isn’t going as well as you’d hoped.

Your body collides with the wall, knocking all the air out of you.

You both arrived at the inn and found the room where the vampire was residing. It seemed startled when you entered, pretending that it wasn’t going to harm anyone and that it only wanted a place to rest.

You didn’t believe a word of it, but Namjoon hesitated, giving the vampire the perfect opportunity to lunge at you.

Namjoon rushes toward you instead of drawing his weapon to kill the vampire.

“No,” you cough, scrambling to pull yourself off the ground and find your blades. You see them across the room, too far to get to in time. “Kill it! Forget about me.”

Namjoon ignores you, kneeling next to you to check your wounds. The vampire scurries out the window, dropping down five floors, a feat not too difficult for a monster.

“You’re letting it get away!” You push yourself onto your feet and dart towards the window just in time to see the vampire run off down an alley. You moan, palming your face, “the priestess is not going to be happy about this!”

The priestess at the hunter’s sanctuary may have a kind hearted and innocent facade when she’s sitting on a cushioned throne giving advice or caring for injured hunters, but when she snaps at those who allow beasts to get away, they’ll be lucky to walk away unscathed by her wrath. However, you two being brand new hunters, she might be lenient with punishment.

She’ll have to send another hunter to deal with your incompetence. You wonder which hunter will have to deal with this mess.

“It’ll be okay,” Namjoon tries to say, attempting to calm you down.

“Our first hunt,” you mutter dejectedly.

“It’s fine,” he brushes off, “let’s just go back to my house.”

—

“Don’t touch me!” You hiss, slapping his hand away from the scratch on your arm. You’ve had plenty of time to simmer over your failed hunt.

“I said I’m sorry,” Namjoon repeats, “I should’ve jumped in before he could grab you.”

You scoff, “that’s not why I’m angry. I’m angry because you let that vampire get away.”

He shouldn’t have run to you and you shouldn’t have let him convince you not to chase after it. By not pursuing the vampire and finishing the job, it already breaks the hunter’s code of fighting till your last breath. You're afraid of what the priestess will say most of all.

Namjoon crosses his arms. “I’m not sorry about that.”

You ball your fists at his words. How can he say that? Even if the vampire seemed to beg for its life it was all just a rouse to lower your guard. Now it’s free to go tear apart families because you two couldn’t kill it tonight. Namjoon had the chance to kill it but rushed to you instead.

“I can’t take it anymore, Namjoon! You can’t keep convincing yourself that these monsters will ever change!” You cry out, finally letting all your frustration flow. “You’ll get yourself killed one day and then I’ll have no one!”

Namjoon is the only person you have left. If he dies it’ll be one more person taken from you too soon.

Tears well up in your eyes as you stare at his shocked face. You move closer to him, almost blinded by the tears in your eyes as your shoulders begin to shake.

“Don’t leave me, Namjoon… I can’t lose another person I love.”

You love him and his tender heart, his sympathy, his selflessness. He’s the last person in this world who you love and trust. You’d do anything to protect him.

“You won’t.” His arms encircle you and he hugs you tightly. “I promise.”

“Then stop being so stupid.”

You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart, shutting your eyes as a hot tear runs down your cheek.

He’s always so selfless, running in front of others to protect them whenever there’s danger without thinking of what kind of consequences would come from it. And the unwillingness to believe in the cruelty of monsters paired with that recklessness will only get him killed. He can promise that he won’t leave you all he wants, but you’ll never be able to believe it.

He holds you closely until your body stops shaking and you’re no longer crying. You sit together on the bed, thighs and shoulders touching.

“Namjoon?”

“Hm,” he hums, staring down at his intertwined fingers.

You dab your damp cheeks, a shy smile creeping onto your face. “Should we pretend I didn’t just confess my love for you?”

You’re not sure how he’ll react. He must not want to say anything that’ll upset you further. He doesn’t feel the same way, you think. He sees you more like a sister he grew up with.

“Why? I-” Namjoon swallows, feeling his hands get clammy, “I love you too.”

“Like a friend or sister, right?”

“No, I’m in love with you.” He emphasizes in love, trying to get you to understand how he truly feels. Namjoon stares into your eyes, his shy hands coming up to cradle your face. “I love you, ___.”

For a second time tonight, tears begin to well up in your eyes. This time you’re overjoyed.

“Swear by the gods!” You want to hear it again. You want to savor his words for as long as you can. Living the life of a hunter doesn’t guarantee a long, virtuous life. There is only one rule a hunter lives by: slaughter as many monsters as you can or die fighting.

For as long as you have left, you want to hear the words I love you.

“I swear by the divine gods above, that I am in love with you, ___,” he laughs, looking down at your smiling face.

Without hesitation you push your lips onto his, throwing your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

Namjoon, stiff and unsure at first, gradually relaxes and cups your cheek, returning the kiss.

Both your hands move at their own volition to eagerly strip each other of their shirts. You run your hands over Namjoon’s toned chest. Despite his reluctance to hunt, he maintains a nice physique to keep up with you during training.

His hand glides over your bare stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking and licking a perfect mark on your heated skin. From your neck to your shoulders, down between your breasts, he leaves evidence of his desire.

Your legs rub together, creating friction to barely satisfy the throbbing between them. Need builds up in you, threatening to explode, the longer he’s not inside you. Now, now, now, your body cries out for him. You need him so desperately, but…

“Namjoon,” you moan, pulling his attention away from your neck. “Can we do this?”

Should we do this?

Crossing the boundary between friendship and lovers is a big step. You’re afraid of what will happen if you both hand over your hearts to one another especially now when you’ve both become hunters.

“I’ve wanted you to be mine since the day we met.”

His mouth returns to the spot on your neck he favors, allowing his hands to wander again. Gently, he coaxes you to lay against his bed. When he pulls back from sucking bruises on your neck, his thick thigh presses against your core, sending a shock through your body.

Your hips move to grind against his flexing thigh, hungry for stimulation. It’s not enough to satiate the throbbing though. You can feel your underwear beginning to stick to your pussy from all the arousal.

Your arms are thrown around his shoulders when he dives back down and his hands begin to remove your restricting pants. They slide off without much struggle after you raise your hips and are discarded somewhere in the corner of his room.

Cupping your cheek to bring you close, Namjoon captures your lips in another heated and passionate kiss with tongues exploring each other's mouths. Your hands, craving for something to do, begin to wander downward, trailing down his toned back. He shivers under your fingertips raking over his skin. Your hands move down the waistband of his pants, working quickly to get them off and his cock free so you can see all of him.

“So eager,” he teases between uneven breaths, hissing as your hand wraps around him and teases his tip.

“I just want you right now.”

“Then go ahead and take me. I’m all yours.”

#bts #bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #namjoon fluff #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #bts drabble #bts scenario #i hate tags

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

#27 for the winter prompts strikes me as distinctly Sternclay NSFW

Here you go!

27 i run a hot chocolate/cider booth at the local ice rink and you always flirt with me but i didn’t think it meant anything because you seem to flirt with everyone

Barclay’s family has lots of traditions come winter, the same as most people he knows. But his personal one is manning the “Sip n Slip” at the Kepler skating rink. He started volunteering there when he was 16 and stuck driving Jake to and from hockey practice. It was something to do, and he liked cooking and making drinks, even if it was just powdered cocoa and simple cookies.

Then he was coming back every winter when the stand opened to help out, and when he opted to stay in Kepler to work as a chef, he still made time to volunteer. He’s thirty now, the stand a little cramped for both him and the other volunteers, but the smell of warm sugar cookies and too-sweet cider takes him right back to his teens.

The same can be said of the man currently at the front of the line; he looks like a rom-com hero, with his black hair slicked back and his stylish coat and scarf, and Barclay has not been this close to popping a no-reason boner in months.

“How can help you?” he leans on the counter, smiling.

The man gives him a stealthy once-over before replying, “I’ll have a coffee, please. And a kid’s hot cocoa” he smiles at the young girl holding his hand, “anything else, Ellie?”

“No.”

“I guess that’s all.”

“That’ll be two bucks.”

The man hands him a five, letting their fingers touch. He does the same thing when Barclay gives him his change. When Barclay sets the to paper cups in front of him he adds, “cream and sugar is over at that little table.”

“I’d say there’s plenty of sugar here.” It’s so smooth that Barclay is still blushing as the man and the little girl disappear into the rink.

Maybe he should start making people give him their names with their orders.

And their phone numbers.

-------------------------------------------

“Hello again”

Barclay bounds to the counter (as much as six foot three man can bound anywhere), “Hey! Coffee and cocoa again?”

“Just coffee, my niece isn’t with me.”

He does a mental fist pump; the kid isn’t his, so maybe that’s a sign he’s single. As he’s trying to work out a non-creepy way to get his name, someone calls from across the room.

“Joseph! There you are man” a stockier guy in a ranger jacket waves.

“First day of rec hockey” Joseph smiles, “wish me luck.”

“Good luck.”

Joe winks, and then he’s gone. Barclay starts a new batch of cookies, looks at the door to the rink every two minutes for the next hour and a half until the other man emerges, sweaty and laughing. He’s twice as handsome as before. When he spots Barclay staring at him, he waves.

The cocoa packet in his hands turns two separate pieces, spilling powdered milk and sugar on the floor.

---------------------------------------------------------

“Back again?” He forces himself not to sound too excited at the fact Joseph is once again ordering coffee from him.

Blue eyes take on a glint, “With you here, how could I stay away?”

He’s this close to asking Joseph if he wants to get coffee somewhere nicer when the man waves another friend over, bumping shoulders and hands with him as they talk.

Okay. Maybe he’s just demonstrative with everyone. That’s cool.

Totally cool.

---------------------------------------------------------

He officially cannot tell if Joseph is flirting. Yes, he stops by the stand every time he’s at the rink (usually twice, once when he gets there and once before he leaves), and when it’s slow he sits in a plastic white chair and chats with him, tossing in winks and smiles whenever he says something complimentary. He’s animated, charming, and Barclay is now the living, breathing definition of “hopelessly crushing” on him.

But Barclay’s seen him talk the same way with his friends and teammates, and even with the other adults waiting to pick their kids up from the same class his niece attends. Barclay’s caught no fewer than four hockey moms and two hockey dads giving Joseph the eye.

He doesn’t blame them; he spends the slow part of his shifts imagining what Joseph looks like under his nice coat. Or his work out clothes. Or the Bigfoot-themed holiday sweater he started wearing in mid-December.

However, for the sake of his own sanity and not making a burgeoning friendship weird, he decides to treat all of their interactions as platonic unless Joseph explicitly says otherwise. So when Joseph asks if he’d like to go skating on Saturday, Barclay agrees immediately and then focuses on not getting his hopes up.

Confusingly, Joseph tells him to be at Tenney Park at three in the afternoon, rather than at the rink. He arrives at five til one and discovers that the fully frozen pond is now a skating hot spot, complete with skate rentals. Barclay brought his own skates; his feet are large enough that getting a rental pair that fit is a crap-shoot.

Joseph is waiting for him on a bench, reading on his phone. He’s in his black coat, the one that makes him look like a secret agent on a ski vacation. The late December sun peeks through the clouds, and Barclay’s pretty sure a beam illuminates Joseph perfectly while a heavenly choir sings.

No, wait, there are some carolers down the street.

“I’m so glad you made it.” Joseph moves the pair of skates from the spot beside him and pats the cold stone. Barclay sits down, and they chat about the mystery series that Joseph got him hooked on. It takes twice as long as normal for him to lace up his skates, because whenever he glances to his right, Joseph is watching him with a smile and his fingers forget how to work.

They wobble over to the ice and step on. The first few strides are fine, but then he hits a groove followed by a small dip and almost falls on his ass. On a normal rink, it’d be a fluke. But there are no Zambonies in the wild.

“This is, whoahfuck, harder on lake ice.” He flails a second time, sticks a hand out for balance only for it to be caught by Joseph’s own.

“I like the challenge. But don’t worry big guy, I’ve got you.”

“Thanks, blue eyes.”

The nickname is a complete accident, brought on by the fact that Barclay is staring into his eyes to avoid reading too much into the held hand. The hand that Joseph doesn’t let go off, even as they move onto a smoother patch of ice.

All that rec hockey is paying off, because Joseph practically waltzes them around in circles, never bumping into anyone or losing his footing as they talk. They compare notes on holiday gifts and new years plans, and Joseph laughs when Barclay regales him with the story of the great babka debacle of 2014.

Barclay’s so caught up in their conversation that he misses an odd bump in the ice and goes sideways into the snow-covered grass to his left, taking Joseph with him accidentally. Joseph ends up on top of him, both cackling like kids at the chaos of the moment. Barclay shivers, snow sneaking under his coat.

“Wanna, uh, get some coffee to warm up?”

“Sure” Joseph smiles.

“Bet that stand uses the same mix mine does.”

“Oh, um, I was thinking we could go back to my place for it. I’m only a few blocks that way.”

There’s no way he’s missing a chance to see Joseph’s house (he has a bet going with Dani that it’s immaculate, while Dani insists Joseph could be a stealth slob), and so ten minutes later he’s pulling off his boots in the entryway of a one bedroom, first floor apartment. The walls sport several elegantly done cryptozoology posters, he spies a pile of cookbooks he recommended on the kitchen counter, and the whole place looks like it’s been tidied within the last day. He texts Dani a stealthy photo, then settles on the couch while Joseph moves about the kitchen.

God, he wants to go in there and wrap his arms around him, kiss him against the counter until they both see stars.

Easy, Barclay, easy. He cannot ruin a good day with a friend.

“I also have some wine, if you’d like that instead of, or with, coffee.”

He glances at the Kraken clock on the wall, “Sure, it’s late enough.”

Joseph walks in, now in just his sweater and pants, stopping to a light a candle before setting two wine glasses on the coffee table. He’s pouring as the sun sets, the change in light helping the room feeling warm and cozy.

“Careful, you keep up those romantic touches and I might think this is a date.” He teases.

Joseph looks up, wine perilously close to the edge of the glass, “wait, this isn’t a date?”

“Uh, I, uh, I, I didn’t want to assume, I mean, do you want it to be a date?”

“Barclay” Joseph sets the bottle down, “I asked you out to something outside of the normal way of spending time together, without anyone else present, and kept holding your hand. And I kept flirting with you.”

“I know, but you kinda flirt with everyone.”

A self-deprecating laugh as Joseph joins him on the couch “Some work habits are hard to turn off; I have to be good at getting people at ease with me, to like me, because then they share information more readily. I guess that could make it hard for someone else to tell the difference.”

“So, uh” Barclay’s fingers cling to the knees of his jeans, “does that mean I could maybe, uh, kiss you?”

Joseph cups his cheek, guiding him in for a gentle kiss on his still chilly lips. Barclay whimpers, spends a moment embarrassed by the noise before Joseph lets out a little growl and shoves him backwards, climbing on top of him and kissing him demandingly.

“‘Grrr’ to you too, babeAHhhhfuck” He rolls his hips as Joseph grinds down and sucks teasingly on his lower lip.

“Is, is that okay?” His black hair is coming loose from it’s gelled swoop, he’s blushing, and his eyes are wider than Barclay’s ever seen.

“Oh my god it’s so much more than okay.” Barclay groans, bringing his hands up to squeeze his ass and press them closer, “fuck, babe, do you have any idea how many times I wanted to drag you into the stand and, fuck, and cover your mouth so no one would know how hard I was making you cum.”

“Lordalmighty” Joseph jerks his hips, “why didn’t you?’

“Because I OH, oh yeah, bite there again, I wasn’t sure you liked me that way, and I really like you, and I didn’t wanna fuck things up.”

Joseph kisses his cheek, murmurs in his ear “Well, now that you know the truth, I want you to fuck me up, big guy. Think you can do that?”

Barclay growls for real this time, flipping them so they’re on their sides and Joseph’s back is pressed to the cushions of the couch. He grabs the dark haired man’s leg, hooking it over his own.

“Yeah, blue eyes, I think I can.”

With that he slams their lips together, grinding his hips hard as the couch springs wobble under them and Joseph tangles his hands into his hair. His hands make up for lost time, slipping under Josephs shirt, dipping below his pants, mapping as much as him as they can find.

“Barclay I AHlord, I have a bed you know?”

“We can use that next time, burned through all my patience not jumping you at the rink.”

He feels Joseph smile, “Fine by me.”

“Fuck” he drags his mouth down, Joseph laughing when his beard scratches his neck, “fuck there’s so much I wanna do to you. Bet it’s so fucking fun to fuck you after practice, bet you’re all worn out and wanna be taken care of.”

“Holy shit.” Joseph matches his pace, working his hips as best he can in time with Barclay’s increasingly erratic thrusts.

“Gonna keep you in bed all day, babe, suck you off so good you’ll beg me to come back tomorrow, gonna show you just how good I can treat you with this” he gives a sharper thrust for emphasis, “gonna, fuck, ohfuck, Joseph, fuckfuck” he cums hard, lifts his hand up to hold onto the top of the couch as the rides it out, Joseph moaning into his mouth and functionally pinned between him and the cushions.

“Fuck I, I didn’t mean to cum in my pants like it’s my first fucking time.”

“Don’t apologize, that’s the best thing anyone’s done with me in months. Now” he nips Barclay’s ear, “show me how creative you are, big guy, and get me off.”

“Hell fucking yeah.” Between the two of them they contort enough to get Joseph's pants open and down, Barclay shifting back slightly to slide his hands into his boxer briefs, the front of which is completely soaked.

“That’s so fucking hot, can’t believe you want me that bad”

“Nnnnnhuh” Is what Joseph manages in reply, his face pressed into the crook of Barclay’s neck, breath coming in short, warm bursts as he jacks him off. Barclay pays attention to which motions make him louder, which make him wiggle his hips with more force, and peppers the side of his face with kisses, wondering how the fuck he got so lucky.

Joseph gets less eloquent the longer Barclay works him over, sinks his teeth into the neck of his shirt as he cums, whole body taut and picture perfect as he does. Barclay pulls his hand away, flopping it over Joseph's hip as they lay panting, the dark haired man nudging them so he can rest against Barclay’s chest while the larger man thanks the lucky stars floating somewhere just above the ceiling for all this.

“Do you, um, want to stay for dinner? I have to do laundry anyway, so I can toss your clothes in so you don’t have to drive home like that” He ghosts a hand over the damp spot by Barclay’s fly.

“That an excuse to have me wandering around your place naked?”

“Not entirely. Your shirt is fine, and I think I have some underwear that will fit you.”

“Fine, half-naked.” He kisses the top of his head.

“When you put it like that, yes. This is both an excuse to have you half-naked in my house and to spend more time with you. Which might be my favorite thing in the world; seeing you at the rink was always the best part of my day.”

Barclay cuddles him closer, wrapping him in his arms to keep away any lingering ice in the air. “Mine too.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #taz amnesty #winter fills

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