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#(paired with a weird ‘my spouse won’t let me do this’ joke)
himboarcher · 3 years
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very interesting how hard the maxfun drive seems to be flopping this year. can’t wait to until jesse thorne calls everyone who didn’t donate a mooching piece of shit on Twitter or something ridiculous like that, or for maxfun hosts to make weird, guilt-ridden speeches about how we’re essentially stealing from them if you don’t subscribe to maxfun
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Soft (Part 1?)
Pairing: Bossk x Vertani!reader (Vertani is an OCspecies I created for stories like this - you can read more here)
Word Count: ~2.4K
Tags: NSFW (18+), minor physical details given to reader, illusions of abuse (reader's father to reader), mentions of alcohol/alcoholism (reader's father), protective Bossk, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV (wrap it up irl), handy, biting, brief mentions of blood, size kink if you squint, biting/marking
Summary: You're the last unmarried woman in your family's clan, your father has a debt he has to pay and you're the only valuable thing he had left. While you don't mind the betrothal you're nervous as you didn't know a whole lot about his kind and you're fairly inexperienced. Bossk decides to take it easy on you, this time.
A/N: I follow the HC that a few other people have that Bossk has internal reproductive organs & two dicks
Story below the cut
“Okay, so Trandoshans are from Trandosha-”
“No shit, really?” You snarked at your sister.
“Listen here you little shit,” she giggled. “I know you’re nervous but you don’t have to take it out on me. I’m just trying to prep you for marriage.”
You sighed, straightening your skirts in the dingy mirror. She was right you were nervous. Your father had arranged the marriage, you assumed to pay a debt. Dad didn’t really have anything of value other than you left and that wasn’t for much longer. As intimidating as Trandoshans were, it was better than being here with your father.
“Ooo, did you know their reproductive organs are internal?” Your sister giggled. “Wonder how that’s going to work.”
“You’re married to a Clawdite. I feel like you can’t talk.” You teased back.
She stuck her tongue out, “at least his dick is external.”
“Wait, the real question is does his dick change when he shapeshifts?”
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Your father stormed into your tent.
Both of you went quiet. Dad didn’t like when you two were vulgar.
“Are you ready girl? He’s going to take you with him after the ceremony.” Dad’s face was impassive as he glanced around the room.
“Wait what?” You two asked in unison.
He sighed, he must’ve known this entire time. It had been two whole weeks since he announced you’d had an arranged marriage but this was the first you heard about leaving. Usually spouses stayed with the tribe, even if they had land the tribe would relocate to their home so the family stayed together.
“He’s a guild member,” dad sniffed. “I owed his father a debt, he said if I can get his son a wife then he’ll wipe my ledger. You’re the only available woman left in the tribe. His dad accepted you already so he doesn’t have much of a say either, which is good for you because of… that.”
Your father gestured at your face. Behind you, your sister growled. She hated when he pointed out what happened to my face, especially since he was at fault. When you were still little he had dropped you nearly into a campfire. If it hadn’t been for your sister it probably would’ve been worse but all the same, your right eye had to be replaced by a cybernetic one and carried some facial scars from the incident.
“They’ll be landing any minute now, I hope you’re ready.” And he left as quickly as he appeared.
“Dick.” Your sister murmured before turning back to you. “You finished the cloak for him, right?”
“Yup.” You picked up the cloak as well as the matching one for yourself. “It still hasn’t sunk in yet.”
“Well, it’s about to so let’s go.” Your sister pulled you out of the tent and toward the landing craft.
Your heart was in your throat. You really only knew what your father told you about him which wasn’t a lot, you knew his species and that he was a guild member. He didn’t even tell you his name, for all you know he didn’t know his name either.
By the time you reached the starship, there was a small group of Trandoshians gathered around your father. He was drinking from a bottle then handed it off to one of the other men. You could smell it from here, granted grog had a pungent smell. How the hell your father could drink the stuff you had no idea. Though the Trandoshans didn’t seem to mind as they passed the bottle around.
“Girl, get over here.” Your father called.
“Great, he’s already drunk, there’s no way that’s going to ruin anything.” Your sister mumbled under her breath but pushed you forward anyway.
“Told you she was pretty Bossk!” One of the green Trandoshans nudged the other forward. “Your father knows how to pick ‘em!”
That must be him then. Bossk. At least he seemed as uncomfortable about this as you.
He stepped toward you, large hand extended. “It’sss nice to meet you, little one.”
You put your hand in his, noting how small you were in comparison to him. He could seriously hurt you if he wanted to.
“The cloak,” your sister hissed loudly behind you.
“Oh yeah, I made this for you.” You pushed the cloak into his hand.
He hummed, staring at it, you wouldn’t tell if he was annoyed, confused, or happy with the gift.
“You’re supposed to help him put it on, dumbass.” Your sister hissed again.
Bossk chuckled, having obviously heard her. “Do you need help, little one?”
Your face flushed, embarrassed of yourself already. You took the cloak and swung it up around his broad shoulders. He made a noise that you weren’t sure what to categorize it as, a chirp? Did Trandosians chirp?
A hand on your waist froze your thoughts.
“Thank you little one.” His voice was husky as he placed a claw under your chin.
You gasped which earned another chuckle from your betrothed.
“Good, you two are getting along,” your dad was slurring his words already.
If he was going to try to drink in pace with Bossk’s kin, he was going to get alcohol poisoning again. Soon it wouldn’t be your problem but right now..?
“Dad don’t you think-” you moved toward him as you spoke only for him to grab your arm roughly and twist.
You whimpered at the sharp pain, Bossk growled before grabbing the front of your father’s cloak. His eyes went wide and he released you in response before an angry look crossed his face. Oh no.
“Watch it lizard breath, she’s not yours yet.”
“No, no, no,” your sister ran and grabbed dad away. “I am so sorry, he says stupid shit when he’d drunk.”
The Trandoshans were getting a kick out of this, loudly laughing and joking with each other.
“Don’t worry child, it’s not a Trandoshan wedding without a fight.” Bossk’s father chuckled. “We won’t take it personally.”
“Let’sss get this party started,” one of the other men hissed to the cheers of the rest.
Bossk’s arm looped around your shoulders, pulling you to his strong chest. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest, slow and steady. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, it could work. He nuzzled your hair, his warm breath fanning across your face, it was comforting. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this safe.
The ceremony went off without a hitch, you were sitting next to Bossk as you all ate. He kept a hand on your thigh the entire time. You were a little nervous about what the next part of the night entailed. Your sister mentioned that some Trandoshan clans still had the tradition of having the consummation needing witnesses. The last thing you wanted was to have a group of people witness your first time.
“Are you okay little wife?”
You glanced up to see your husband staring at you.
“Yeah just… daydreaming.” You smiled up at him.
“Nervousss?” He chuckled.
Your face flushed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He seemed to enjoy it though as he smirked at you. Leaning in he nuzzled to the side of your face.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” He murmured into your ear, tongue flickering out to lick the shell of your ear.
You squeezed your thighs together instinctually, trying to quell arousal that was flooding your core. His hand moved down your thigh to brush against your pussy.
“You smell deliciousss.” He chuckled.
Oh shit, that’s right. Better sense of smell. Somehow that didn’t help instead you could feel your heartbeat move down your core.
“C’mon little wife, say your goodbyesss. It’s time to go.” He pulled away before speaking to the other men, saying something in Dosh.
Your sister was teary-eyed as you hugged her goodbye but still gave you a little jab before you left.
“You have to comm me after because I’m morbidly curious.” She giggled as her husband gently elbowed her.
You rolled your eyes at her before following Bossk to his light freighter. He grabbed your bag from you and threw it onto the copilot seat before pulling you back into him. You squeaked as you hit his chest, he was like a brick wall.
Nuzzling into your hair again, you could hear a deep growl in his chest. You reached up for the collar of his flight suit, he chuckled rubbing his nose against yours before licking your lips. He grabbed your ass suddenly, lifting you up against him. Your legs went around his waist instinctually. It was a little weird not feeling a dick against you but you could work with it.
One of his hands went up to your hair and he yanked, probably gentler than he wanted to, to expose your neck. His tongue flicked out and against your pulse point, pausing there. You wondered if he could feel your pulse like that, he was definitely enjoying your vulnerability.
You wiggled out of his grip, feet hitting the ground. He looked at you confused.
“I was enjoying that little wife.” He grumbled, still unsure about what you were up to.
“Hopefully you’ll enjoy this more.” You whispered, pulling the zipper of his flight suit down.
He chuckled in understanding, watching you closely.
You swallowed, you were incredibly nervous since you had no idea what the hell you were doing. He could probably tell, he seemed more intuitive than you initially thought. As you pulled the zipper down, you had to admire his body. Despite the scales, you could see his muscle definition, thick corded muscle moving with each breath.
Once his pants were below his waist you were finally able to see what you were working with. He had a slit where other humanoid testicles would normally be. Bossk, probably sensing your hesitance, stroked the sides of the slit. You smirked, judging by his movements it was probably sensitive and that gave you an idea.
Pushing his hand away, you licked his slit. He groaned letting you know it was the right action to take, hand going to your hair. You trailed your tongue around the opening, Bossk hissing something unintelligible. He yanked your head back suddenly, his cocks emerging from the slit. While they weren’t terribly long, they were thicker than you were expecting.
But wait - Two?? How the hell were you supposed to take that?
He chuckled at your expression. “Don’t worry little wife. I told you I’d be gentle. Strip.”
You nervously untied your skirts before pulling your tunic up over your head leaving you in your leggings. Bossk was watching you closely, his hand stroking his cocks, and you were trying your best to not be self-conscious. You crossed your arms over your breasts.
Bossk growled again, stalking toward you. “None of that now, I want to see everything.”
He gripped the waistband of your leggings, his claws tearing the fabric with ease. You could feel your pussy dripping in anticipation. Bossk dropped to his knees, his tongue trailing up the inside of your thigh before lapping at your folds, just grazing your clit. You gasped, the friction was perfect. He chuckled as he stroked his cocks.
“Just like I thought, deliciousss.” He pressed his snout against your clit as his tongue pushed inside you.
You whimpered in response to the sudden intrusion. His tongue hit places you didn’t know you had inside of you. He grabbed one of your legs, putting it over his shoulder to give himself better access to your sensitive cunt. Between the pressure against your clit and the fullness of your pussy you felt yourself clench around his tongue, he groaned at the sensation, the vibrations traveling up your core. You were so close.
Without warning he withdrew his tongue, trailing it back up to graze your swollen clit. He stood, licking your juices off his chin as he pulled you toward him. You glanced down nervously, you could feel both dicks pressed against your belly, warm and hard. He nuzzled your neck again, allowing his sharp teeth to graze your soft skin.
“Are you ready, little wife?” He asked, trailing his tongue up your neck again.
Suddenly feeling a little bold, you grabbed his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist again. He let out a pleased grumble, pushing you up against a wall while he gave one of his cocks a few cursory pumps before slowly pushing it into you, the other resting on your stomach. You gasped, the hard intrusion a new sensation but true to his word, Bossk was being gentle. He allowed you to get used to his cock before snapping his hips forward, earning another gasp from you.
He chuckled before groaning, “you’re so tight around me, little wife.”
Feeling bold, you reached between your legs, grasping his second cock in your hand. Bossk growled, thrusting his hips up into you. You could feel every vein and ridge on his cocks as he pressed himself into both your hand and pussy. The familiar tension returned to your core, his cock pressing against the sensitive spot inside you.
The only sounds in the cockpit was the wet sound of him thrusting into you and your gasping breath as he pushed himself deep inside you yet again, his hips faltering as your pussy clenched around him.
His hands went to your ass, moving you so that you ground against him, his cock pressing a new spot inside you that made you cry out. Continuing the motion you felt the length of his second cock rubbing against your clit. The familiar tension was so intense you thought you were going to blackout.
Bossk gave another sharp thrust, he couldn’t stave off his release any longer. His exposed cock ejaculated clear cum across your face as his other cock flooded your pussy, you could feel some of it dripping from you already. The filling sensation was enough to push yourself over the edge, tension snapping like a rubberband. The wet heat of pleasure radiated from your pussy up to your core, your vision getting hazy from pleasure and exhaustion.
Your new husband nipped your shoulder lightly, breaking the haze. Gazing at your shoulder to watch the bite flush and go red as blood beaded along the teeth marks, you looked at him questioningly.
He nuzzled your neck once more, inhaling deeply. “So soft and warm, beautiful girl. I’m taking advantage to make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”
You smiled at the thought, looks like this marriage will work after all.
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dirty-urie · 3 years
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McBrendon
Second Person
Brendon x Female Reader
Unspecified Era
Smut Oneshot
NC-17
3.2k Words
Warnings in order of appearance: RPF, language throughout, not pre-discussed roleplay scene, medical roleplay and language, sex
Author's Notes:
So, basically, I was re-watching Grey's Anatomy, and I was like, "What if Brendon was here?" and then this was born. I have no idea if someone who's never watched Grey's Anatomy would understand or appreciate this, but basically what I think you need to know is that Derek Shepherd and Mark Sloan are sexy manwhores (in the earier seasons), and a common recurring joke in the earlier seasons of the show is putting "Mc" in front of adjectives to describe love interests. The fic is supposed to be more silly than sexy, but maybe it's sexy too, I don't really know.
"Wait, what about those two?" He asks, and you sigh exasperatedly.
"Brendon, just assume that all of the doctors on the Doctor Sex Show have slept together. That's the whole point."
He groans and slumps back in his chair, "Remind me why we have to watch this overdramatic doctor smut in the theater? The theater should be a sacred space for Disney movies or action movies with boobies and explosions, not 'ohhhh does McCreamy only like Natalie because she hooked up with Appendectomy?.'"
"It's my week on laundry duty, and whoever's folding laundry gets to watch whatever they want wherever they want. That's the rules, but you can go watch something in the living room or on your computer or on your phone if you don't like it," you offer, trying to get rid of him. You love Brendon, you love him so much, but sometimes you need to sit in the dark and fold laundry with no other noises except your soapy little doctor show.
"Fine. The men of the house are going to go watch something manly, don't bother us. Come on, Bogart!"
Brendon's little Jack Russell turns to look at you as if asking to stay, but you pat his back and send him off to go snuggle with his dad. You don't think you could handle Brendon's betrayed gasps if you let Bogart finish the episode with you. You and Penny will be fine ogling at Patrick Dempsey while file-folding Brendon's 68 pairs of gray and black sweatpants alone. Brendon kisses your cheek before he leaves. "Have fun with the boobs and explosions, babe," you tell him on his way out of the room.
"Oh, you know I will!"
•••
Two weeks later, it's your turn to fold laundry again, and you're back to watching Grey's, this time in the living room. The dogs are sitting next to you, eyes glued to the screen. Brendon's also in the room, bitching about "introducing this drivel into our home," but you're ignoring him because you don't need that kind of negativity in your life.
He finally quiets down, and you appreciate the five minutes of peace. Until… "Are you unsatisfied with our sex life?" He asks out of the blue.
You're taken completely aback for a second before you scramble to pause the tv. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, what? Where did this come from?" you ask him. What the fuck? Is he unsatisfied with your sex life?
"Well, we haven't had sex in weeks practically." Three days actually. It's been three days, but you don't interrupt him. "And you keep watching this sexy doctor show, so I don't know, maybe you're feeling like a bored housewife," Brendon explains.
You laugh at him, and he looks offended. "You're overthinking it, baby boy. It's just a show! Sure, the sexual tension between the entire hospital and Mark Sloan is spicy and exciting, but I'm not trying to compensate for anything lacking in my life. If anything, all that spice just translates into better sex for both of us. Okay?"
He looks very skeptical. "Hm, sure. I totally believe you."
You don't necessarily think you properly got your point across to him, but Meredith just made another bad decision, and you need to see how it pans out. "Okay, great, now go watch a manly show with Bogs in our room if you're going to keep whining."
Brendon does not, in fact, go into your room to watch a manly show on his laptop. Instead, he and Bogart start watching season 1 of Grey's Anatomy, immediately getting highly invested in the lives of the ambitious-yet-messy surgical interns. He's trying to figure out what exactly appeals to you about the show.
•••
It's his turn to fold the clothes, and he's doing it wrong, but you're resisting the urge to do it for him because you're a feminist, damnit. He's still letting you watch Grey's Anatomy because he's a doll (and you don't know this, but he's also become a bit of a fan.)
"Do you think I'm more a Mark Sloan or a Derek Shepherd?" He asks.
You scoff, "You're a George."
"I am not! I'm way sexier than George!"
"You're just jealous because I'm an Addison."
"Pshh, you're a Bailey. You wanna know how I know?" He asks.
"Fine. Tell me." You give in.
"You desperately want to correct my laundry technique."
•••
"Meet me in the on-call room in five," Brendon whispers against the back of your neck while you're drying the dishes from dinner. What is this man doing? "Meet you where?" You ask, but he's already walked away. You're not sure whether to actually wait the five minutes or just try to go find him.
You give him three minutes before going to the bedroom. You honestly don't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't Brendon laying on his side in the middle of your bed, shirtless under a white coat. He has on a pair of navy blue scrub pants that aren't particularly flattering, but they still look nice on him.
"Explain to me what's happening here, homie," you tell him.
"I'm being sexy for you! So sexy! I'm Dr. Brendon "McKinky" Urie, I'm a general surgery attending, but my real specialty is pleasure."
You visibly cringe for him. "You're a McDoofus, and your real specialty is probably malpractice."
He pouts. "Play along. Come on. Please? Be Dr. Y/N Sexy."
You roll your eyes. "Why do you get your real last name, but I'm Dr. Sexy?"
"Because we're not married in this fantasy! We're both cheating on our spouses but not in a tragic way, in a sexy way! Come on! Let yourself have fun," he pleads.
You feel yourself start to cave. "Fine, I'll play along, but I'm stopping this the minute I feel weird, okay?"
"Of course. And, babe, if you don't want to do this, you absolutely do not have to," he says, serious now.
"No, no, Brendon. I'm down for this. I think you're a total goof for doing it, but I trust you."
He brightens, "Great! Now it's time for your examination." He waggles his eyebrows, climbing off the bed and gesturing for you to take his place.
"Exam? Am I a patient? Why am I in the on-call room if I'm a patient?" You ask.
"Doctors need exams too, y'know. We're both doctors, but I don't know, you need a routine exam for like moles or something. Take your clothes off." He says, and you take a split-second to be grateful that Brendon got discovered for his musical talents and will therefore never be an actual doctor.
You stifle back your laughter and strip down to your underwear, lying on your back on top of the white sheet he put over the comforter to protect the bed from any potential messes. He stands over you next to the bed, and you're happy that you at least get to stare at his body during this little experiment. The whole "doctor" thing may not be driving you wild on its own, but your half-naked husband always will.
"Thank you for coming to this appointment, Dr. Y/N Sexy," he says. Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh, you chant in your head. "First," he says, making his voice husky, "I need to test your reflexes." Something tells you he won't be using one of those little hammers. He bends down and breathes against your neck. You shiver, and goosebumps appear on your arms. You're glad you wore your front clasp bra when he unclips it and has immediate access to your breasts. He circles around your nipple with his finger, and they harden quickly. "Mmm, good reflexes indeed. Very responsive," he purrs. "I don't think your test results are conclusive yet. You should keep going," you encourage. He rubs your scalp, and your head rolls back. You're worried that you'll start drooling.
Brendon smirks at you a little, and his smugness is slightly infuriating. Yes, you like him touching you, but that hardly proves that his weird roleplaying was a good idea. "Just like I observed, fantastic reflexes. But I now must move on to the chest exam." He rests his head on your chest, and you're beginning to suspect that this whole thing was just a ploy to touch your boobs a lot. "Is your heart rate always this fast or just when your hot coworker is touching you?"
"Normally only my husband, also named Brendon… for some reason, can get me so worked up, but now I'm thinking of leaving him for you, McCrinkly."
"It's McKinky, and your husband sounds gorgeous and super smart. You should keep him around," he says, climbing onto you and groping your breasts. "In my professional opinion, these are nice tits."
You have to bite your lip to resist the urge to laugh again. You wouldn't quite say you're aroused, but you are having fun at least. "Okay, okay, doc. Enough of the preliminary exam; I need five and a half inches, stat."
"You couldn't round up to six while we're playing!?"
"Oh, come on, you're lucky I rounded up to five and a half!"
"Rude! So rude!"
You kiss him to shut him up. "Sorry, baby, I won't bully you anymore. Now, how about a cervical exam?" You suggest, craving his thickness inside you.
That cheers him up. Brendon resumes his doctor roleplay. "First, let me complete the dermatological examination. If you could remove your undergarments, please."
You throw your bra on the floor and take off your underwear.
He admires the small amount of newly-exposed skin. "So many marks on your breasts and pubic region. Did your hot husband leave these too, or should I investigate for a skin condition?" He asks, ducking between your thighs to add some more.
"Yeah, he left them there. My sexy husband is kind of the best, but enough about him," you say.
New dark spots pop up after he finally moves his mouth from the sensitive skin of your thighs. "Oops, I think I just burst a couple of capillaries."
Well, someone did some light googling. "Do you think I'll make it?" You ask, faking drama.
"Yes, but you'll need someone to pay lots of attention to the area between your thighs."
He never mastered the art of subtly, did he? "I don't think that will be an issue. My husband will be thrilled."
"Great, that's taken care of. Shall we commence with the cervical exam then?" He asks, rolling off you to tug off his scrubs and underwear. He keeps his dumb coat on, which is more goofy than sexy without clothes underneath, but you don't tell him that. "And we can test your motor skills at the same time. Hands and knees, please."
You obey, and he moves behind you to enter you. He pushes into you quickly and hard, just like you like it. "God, there's so much blood in my, hm, um corpus cavernosum… I think," he says.
"Your what? Are you trying to cast a Harry Potter spell? because that's a whole different roleplay," You crane your neck back to see him, and your eyes widen. "Brendon, are you," you need to pause to choke back your laughter, "are you reading from a flashcard? While inside me?"
He's on his knees behind you, squinting at a white notecard. He flips the card over and reads from it, "the corpus cavernosum is, um, the main erectile tissue in the genitals. So, uh, I was trying to say that I'm hard for you."
That's it, you can't contain your laughter. You can't even bear to look at Brendon without cracking up. Tears are streaming down your face. He hisses, and you think it's because you've upset him, but you turn back to look at him, and he's biting his lip, his head tilted back.
"Are you good, B?" You ask, a little worried.
He's breathing hard. "Yeah, just your laughing caused contractions around my cock, and I was not prepared. Felt good, just unexpected." He pulls almost all the way out and then jerks back in, not quite slamming but gearing up to it.
"Faster, please. Careful still, but faster," you request.
He speeds up perfectly, finally filling you up and relieving the ache inside you. You relish each time his hips meet your body, feeling close to him, even if the position isn't as intimate as he usually likes. You suppose successful Dr. Kinky, notorious womanizer, wouldn't necessarily want to make loving, passionate eye contact with all of his conquests.
"So, Dr. Kinky-"
"No, it's doctor Urie, McKinky."
Jesus, you need a script. "So, Dr. Urie, do you have enough energy after all those lobotomies or whatever to rub a girl's clit? I bet my husband, the other Brendon, would touch me."
"Well, I would never even bother to compete with such a stellar man, but I can still try to get you off." His hands move between your thighs to touch your cunt. "Oh no, so much excess fluid here. I hope nothing's wrong." He puts a finger on your throbbing clit and feigns a sigh of relief, "Good, I've found a pulse." His touch is feather-light as he slowly strokes you. The contrast between his fast, hard thrusts and delicate strokes somehow enhances both of his actions.
"Oh, that's nice," you moan.
"You mind if I have you roll over? I still have to test your flexibility, and I'd love to do that with your legs on my shoulders."
"Fuck yeah."
He pulls out, and you get on your back; he gets you ready by situating the pillows underneath you. You rest a leg on either shoulder, and he thrusts in again. You don't want to admit it to him, but you feel like you'll need to come soon. The spikes of pleasure pulsing between your legs have been getting stronger and closer together, and now that you can see what you do to him, rather than just hearing his occasional grunts, you feel even closer to crossing that finish line.
"I'm observing some rapid contractions, Sexy. Should I note in your chart how close you are to coming all over me? Because it seems to me that you're failing your stamina and endurance evaluation," Dr. Urie teases.
You close your eyes to try to eliminate a source of the arousal, but you still feel painfully close to the edge.
Brendon inadvertently shifts a bit, and that does it. Your arousal peaks intensely, and you try to restrain your reactions on the off chance he doesn't notice. However, you're pretty sure he does notice your orgasm when his movements slow to a stop, and that's confirmed when he outright says it. "You just came," he states. It's not a question.
You nod, not bothering to deny it.
He pulls out, and you finally get to see his still-hard cock soaked with your wetness. "Well I suppose, we can run… further tests to reach a full diagnosis," he practically croons, pulling his scrub pants back on, and a wave of lust spreads from your stomach. Fine, the doctor thing is a little hot. "It's up to you though, I defer to your professional opinion."
"I think my exam is complete, actually, but I know you've been complaining of some pain in this region," you give his crotch a quick squeeze. "Do you mind stripping so I can investigate?"
He immediately takes off his coat, obviously excited, and gives it to you, so you put it on. "So, can you describe the pain?" You ask, putting a hand on his thigh.
"Kind of an ache, I guess?"
You squeeze his thigh, "And you'd say the pain is mainly here?"
"No, uh, um, to the right."
You squeeze his other thigh, "Oh, I see, right here?"
"No, not, um, my thigh."
"Sorry, I understand." You lay your hand flat on his stomach, still carefully avoiding his cock. "Your stomach must be hurting."
"Still not quite."
You clench your jaw in fake frustration. "Well, could you just show me where you need my attention, Doctor Urie?"
He shoves down his pants and grasps his leaking cock, groaning in relief when he starts to tentatively touch himself.
"Yes, very good, thank you. Would you say the ache subsides with stimulation?" You ask professionally.
Brendon nods and smirks a bit, "Yeah, you could say that."
"Well, I think you just need to achieve ejaculation," you diagnose.
"Is that, ah, covered under my insurance?" He asks cheekily, still jerking himself.
You laugh, going to dig the lubricant out, "Okay," you nudge his hand away, "leave this to the professionals." You pour the clear lube into your hand. "This may be a bit cold," you warn. He doesn't really need the lube, he's both leaking profusely and still slick from being inside you, but you want to keep up the "doctor vibes." You grasp him firmly and stroke quickly, trying to get him off as soon as you can. You kind of want to use your mouth, but you can't think of a good reason to within the roleplay. That's mostly fine, though, because you can tell he's about to come.
He comes all over your hand without warning a minute or so later. He shudders and groans, spurting twice more. You didn’t realize how worked up he was. Of course, you saw how hard he was, but to come this much from just jerking him off means he was really turned on. "Outstanding sperm production, sir," you say, crudely wiping him up with a tissue.
"Okay, no more doctor talk. My brain is too mushy," he groans.
You take off the coat and get into bed, cuddling against him. "If your brain is mushy, you probably should see a doctor."
He giggles. "So, would you do this again?"
You think for a second. "Well, I'd roleplay with you again, but you have to warn me next time. And probably not the doctor thing again. It was hot playing with you, but thinking about actual medical procedures is not my thing."
He yawns, "Noted about the warning you next time, and that's too bad. I was really looking forward to the oral exam. How big is your mouth? How's your swallow technique?" He says, half-jokingly.
"Hey, don't push it, or we're doing a prostate exam, and due to budget cuts to the hospital, we're going to be low on lubricant."
He cringes, "Point taken. I don't need a doctor roleplay; the next time I want a blowjob, I'll just ask."
You get out of bed and put on your pajamas. "Well, if it's in the next 45 minutes, your request is getting denied because Penny Lane, Bogart, and I are watching the real Grey's Anatomy in the theater while you're still too weak to complain about it. And this is a good time to tell you that my character is not actually a medical doctor. I have a PHD in film studies. I’m a fraud.”
His mouth drops open, "You're telling me that wasn't an official medical handjob?!"
"I trust that you'll get over this. Love you, babe."
He scowls but still mutters a quiet, “I love you too.”
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degeneratekitten · 3 years
Text
The reeducation of a King
!!!WARNING!!! Read the tags before continuing. If any of the tags upset you then you probably wont like it when it happens in the story.
This story was one of the first asks I got, I started it, but never finished, so here we go.
The woman in front of you looked incredibly tired. She had bags under her eyes, her skin was pale, and she looked like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Truthfully you had yet to even inform her that the King Lamia she had rescued off the street was classified more as a hunting type bitty. She’d been under the assumption, like many people who came to you with rescues, that all bitties could be kept like pets.
“So he’s gotten possessive of you, and he started trying to control your life?” You questioned making sure that you’d gotten her story straight.
“Yes!” She sighed, looking almost on the verge of tears. “I had to slip tranquilizers in his food so I could come here! He goes absolutely berserk if I leave his sight for even a moment, and he refuses to let me decide where we go!” She cried, soundly more and more like an abused spouse than a distraught pet owner. To be fair, this was an abusive relationship, one you would be more than willing to remedy. “He also always tries to tell me what kind of underwear I should wear and gets mad when I don't wear them!”
“That's very troubling.” You nodded, before inquiring about an important question. “How was it that he got so much control over you?”
The woman opened her mouth to answer only to snap her mouth shut again in a frown. She didn't seem to have an answer.
“I… I can't remember…” She mused, before continuing. “I guess I didn't realize it at first, but over time he just got worse and worse, and somehow he convinced me that it would all be ok if I did this, or that. He started getting threatening, baring his teeth whenever I even suggested doing something he didn't want. I was afraid he’d somehow escape his cage at night and kill me, so I just did what he wanted. I figured this was just a part of rescuing bitties. It wasn't until last week when he started to demand I stop seeing my mother that I realized how weird everything was. He’s a pet, not a boyfriend, and I won’t be controlled by a pet!” She stated, seeming to come to a firm resolution in her own mind.
You nodded at her. “I see, so I think I know how this all started. “ You smiled, giving the woman a look that seemed to calm her down.
“What?” She asked, fully invested in what you were going to say.
“You see, bitties are separated into two different types, ones that are pets, and others that are meant for more, violent situations. Lamia’s with venom are generally meant to be either guards, or exterminators. Your King is the former. His breed was designed to protect an owner, staying vigilant for all threats both physical and mental. Where this all went wrong is because your King was born and bred in the wild, where a lot of the original designs and personalities of bitties have changed.” The woman looked incredibly interested in what you were saying. Fully invested and curious, you loved customers like this.
“So his idea of protection involves being controlling?” She asked just waiting for you to elaborate.
“Yes and no. His ideas about protection are skewed more in favor of breeding. If he has a partner he has to hide them away so they can't get taken by another bitty or human. He has to provide everything for them then, food, shelter, warmth, stimulation, everything. The problem with a lot of bitties in recent generations is that their predisposition to be reliant on humans still applies even when they’re experiencing sexual urges. They expect and crave for their human owners to satisfy them sexually alongside everything else.” You watched as the woman's face twisted in disgust.
“Wait, so you’re saying that hes trying to fuck me?” She yelled, grossed out and shivered slightly. 
“In short, yes, he wants to fuck you.” You deadpanned watching as the woman hugged herself.
“That's so messed up!” She exclaimed, which made you chuckle.
“I agree, but magic is weird, and magical constructs with origins like bitties are even weirder. But anyways, there is a way to fix this. A way to uncross his wires so to say, and make him desire other bitties rather than you. Which in turn should ease a lot of the behavior towards you. After I do that he should be more receptive to my traditional training in learning how to act more in line with the original king lamia’s.” You finished, watching as relief seemed to wash over the woman.
“So what needs to be done to uncross those wires?” She asked, to which you chuckled. 
“Get him a mate.” You stated watching as the woman seemed to balk a little at how simple your answer was.
“Wait! It's that simple?! I could have done that myself.” She asked sitting up straight, shocked and a little giddy at the prospect. You laughed with her.
“Well, kind of, unfortunately if you get involved in the process and give him a new mate, he’d take it as a sign that he needs to fight the other bitty to mate with you. It’s better to let a third party do the introduction.”
“Oh… Well, if it gets him to stop wanting to fuck me I’m more than willing.” She smiled, seeming to realize that a huge weight was being lifted from her shoulder.
“So when can we start?” She added, looking at you with hope.
“Well first we have to pick out a new mate.”
-----
You’d gone over potential mates and your rates with the woman for the rest of the visit. You’d mentioned that a cherry would probably be best for the King, as they were incredibly meek and in need of the amount of attention that this particular King was ready to give, plus they weren't lamia so the chance of breeding while already small, was nearly impossible. The woman was excited over the idea, as she wanted a pet who was easier to cuddle with as opposed to her King who she had to keep far away from her sleeping arrangements. 
You’d made sure to explain fully to her why although she had the best of intentions, King’s were not traditionally pets, and she needed to treat him accordingly. She could keep him as part of her family and give him a better home off the streets, but she needed to be careful not to let him take charge of her life anymore as next time he probably would kill her. She ended up taking this to heart, nodding her head as you led her to the door. 
“I’ll make sure I read more on how I’m supposed to handle him.” She promised, leaving in her car. You’d set a date for that weekend to go and pick up the King, you needed a few days to get a suitable cherry and set up an area in which you could do everything that needed to be done.
---
Meeting the King in question, Moriarty, as he had aptly named himself, was an occasion that was sure to be violent. You had a thick jumpsuit on, with extra layers covering your arms and legs, combat boots your husband had bought you just for these situations, and heavy duty handling gloves on so he couldn’t bite you. You had some safety goggles on as well in case he tried to spit at you, and even your neck was covered by a long collar from your jumpsuit. You didn't take any chances with violent venomous lamia’s especially ones who had reason to believe that you were a threat. You’d nearly lost your brother that way when he’d insisted on trying to calm a venomous lamia without gear. He’d been in the hospital for two weeks and aptly served as yet another reminder that protection bitties were not to be taken lightly.
Your husband was dressed beside you in a similar getup, and he had insisted on taking at least one Squadron bitty with the two of you, said bitty was currently standing at military attention waiting for you to give him orders. He wore camo like most squadron bitties, with a black shirt, ripped off sleeves, a pair of smaller dog tags and miniature combat boots and a knife. He didn't have his ecto flesh summoned so his outfit was a little baggy. His dark green eyelights were focused on you, while his arms were situated behind his back.
You had planned to use magic if things got too bad, but it was always good to have a backup plan.
Squadrons were very similar to Edgies in terms of vocabulary and humor, the only real difference being that they were never overtly hostile to anyone outside of combat. They made dirty jokes all the time and cursed like sailors, but never called you cunt or assface unless they were set out to kill you.
“I’ll need you to stay outside until we give you a signal.” You said to the bitty, watching as he gave a toothsome grin and saluted you in response.
“Just gimmie da signal an I’ll rip em up ma'am.” He replied, forgoing his usual vulgar vocabulary in lieu of a more respectful tone. He gave you a nod as well to tell you not to worry about him and you turned towards your husband with a pleased expression.
“You said this is your best one so far? I’m impressed! He didn't even cuss at me!” You praised watching your husband's face light up.
“Yeah, he used to cuss more than the others but I straightened him out real quick, nothing a little friendly competition couldn't solve.”
Chuckling you turned your attention back towards the door again, and steeling yourself for the worst you knocked on the door. Hopefully she’d managed to tranquilize her king.
“Hello! We’re here today for Miss Shelby! We’re here to pick up the package like we discussed yesterday.
“*GASP* MOTHER! HOW DARE YOU! I TOLD YOU NOT TO GO OUTSIDE! YOU DISOBEYED ME!” You heard the loud, unmistakable shriek of the problematic bitty then a mumble in response before there was a loud crash and the shriek of a woman. Worried that maybe the King had gotten more violent, you tested the doorknob, relieved to find it unlocked.
“Hello, Miss Shelby! I’m coming in!” You shouted, before bursting into the home.
What you saw caused adrenaline to surge through you.
The king in question was wrapped tightly around Shelby’s arm, hood spread out,tail swishing agitated, and teeth bared. He was on the verge of attacking.
Looking at Shelby you could tell how nervous, how terrified she was as she stared at the King’s teeth. You noticed that a plate of noodles lay shattered on the floor.
“Oh thank god.” Shelby breathed out, relieved to see you.
“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! BARGING IN HERE! MOTHER TELL THEM TO LEAVE!” The king hissed, moving itself so he was partially wrapped around Shelby’s neck, he had placed himself right next to Shelby’s ear with his teeth still bared and from what you could tell, his fangs were already secreting venom. He was very ready to bite.
“M-m-m-mori! She’s a guest, I invited her over for dinner!” Shelby tried to explain, earning herself a shriek in the ear.
“I DIDN'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR THAT! WE AREN'T ACCEPTING COMPANY! TELL HER TO LEAVE!” Moriarty screeched, tail seeming to tighten around her neck.
Shelby moved to try and loosen the tail only to earn a menacing hiss from the king, your eyes widened a bit as you tried to think of the best course of action. 
Moving towards her would probably cause him to tighten his grip, talking could yield good results but with how agitated he was it would probably only buy you time before he bit her. Maybe if you challenged him he would take the bait, but you couldn't do that if you wanted him to respond to you in training.
Suddenly you were incredibly glad that your husband had insisted on bringing a squadron bitty. The king would probably never see it again, and it would leave you in a neutral position from which to train the king.
You clicked your tongue at the king, not making any sudden movement, he hissed at the sound, and seemed to be hyper focused on you, before its attention snapped to the door, as a bulked up squadron bitty stormed in.
“The fuck is this cunt ordering ya round for!?” The squadron bitty bellowed, he was still minimal size, but you yourself knew better than to underestimate him.
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS! LEAVE MY TERRITORY AT ONCE INSOLENT CRETIN!” The King hissed, attention snapping to the other bitty.
Shaking your head, you looked at the little squadron bitty and gave a firm order. “Nothing crazy.” You stated, watching as he frowned in displeasure.
“Fuckin fine. Yer not a lot a fun are ya.” He stated as he stepped forward, chest puffing out as he readied himself for a fight.
“FIGHT ME BITCH!” He screeched out simply at the king, using the most direct way in which to challenge the king.
Taking the bait immediately, the King slithered down in front of his owner, hood spread, and fangs dripping poison. You took a step back, and whispered at Shelby to slowly back away.
There wasn't much of a fight, the King lunged and ended up shot by a tranquilizer as the Squadron bitty jumped out of the way for your husband to get a clear shot of the King’s hood. 
You’d had these instant magic tranquilizers well before the pure bite incident, but they simply did not work on large bitties, they were meant for smaller bitties, and were tested extensively to work instantly said bitties. 
There was no need for an actual fight, and really the simplest solutions were generally the best. You nodded at the Squadron bitty, as he immediately made to restrain the King bitty and brought him over to you, where you put a special muzzle on its skull. After which the squadron dragged it by the tail to a pre-prepared cage.
Having completed your business, you turned towards Shelby, noticing how shocked she seemed. It wasn't uncommon, people tended to be shocked when the people, or “pets” in this instance, that had been tormenting them were taken down. You took the lead, grabbing a shock blanket that you had also, prepared ahead of time and wrapping it around her.
“Do you want me to call someone for you?” You asked, as you secretly examined her for any bites or cuts. Luckily the only injuries she had were bruises from where the king had squeezed her arm too tightly.
Shelby nodded dumbly at you, before grabbing her phone and scanning her finger to unlock it. “Could you… Call my mother… I was too scared to have her over before.” She said, then plopping down in a nearby seat.
You nodded at her. “I’ll wait with you until she gets here.” You said, before pressing the call button on the phone.
---
The very first step in rehabilitating the King wasn’t to immediately jump into training. It was a little different from that. You’d brought your client over after she’d calmed down in order for her to pick out one of the Cherries you’d set aside for the King. You’d set aside 5 of them, not that it really made much of a difference as they were all crying at the prospect of meeting someone new. Most bitties were identical, luckily there were” some notable differences between these cherries, mutations weren’t always bad.
The customer came in, and almost immediately grimaced at the crying Cherries. You’d warned her that they were high maintenance pets, but also assured her that with a King around a lot of the more intolerable aspects would almost certainly be enjoyed by the King.
She did however warm up to the Cherries after a little play time, and after finding out that one of the Cherries enjoyed eating literally ANYTHING, she picked that one in a heartbeat. She stated that she loved cooking new things and someone to enjoy new things with was something she struggled with.
After that she bonded for a short while, she left, she had wanted to hear the cherry say “mommy” before leaving but you insisted that that was a TERRIBLE idea.
After she left, you shoved a heat inducing gummy down a screaming Cherries throat and quite literally threw him into the pen with the King. If you heard hysterical pleas for help, and screams to “shut up slut.” You ignored them, that would sort itself out naturally.
---
You monitored the situation between the King and Cherry loosely. It went exactly as you expected it to. The King violently fucked the Cherry, while the Cherry simultaneously cried for more and pleaded for it to stop at the same time. 
By the end of the week long fuck fest there were no more pleas for stopping, only begging for more. Until finally, the King had firmly marked the Cherry as its own, and was holding it close and whispering as sweet of compliments as it could muster. The Cherry was crying, as usual, but at the offer of food it had accepted the King as its mate. 
You waited another week, allowing the King to thoroughly fuss over the Cherry and fuck away its excess of aggression, before entering the pen. You entered with food, eyeing the King to make sure he didn't pounce. He has significantly calmed down, instead of hissing and threatening he stared at you warily while he held his wide eyed mate close. You set the food down, and nodded.
“I see you enjoy the mate I’ve prepared for you.” You stated, watching as the King’s head tilted to the side as he questioned the implications of that statement.
You left before he could question you. Letting the tranquilizers in the food take effect before you went to collect your newest project.
---
The King awoke in a cage alone while a hysterical Cherry cried as it reached out to him from a cage opposite of him.
You didn't have gloves on as you opened the cage of the Cherry, and you would never admit to smiling at the reaction of the King as you roughly handled the Cherry.
“RELEASSSSSSE MY MATE AT ONCE INSSSSSOLENT HUMAN!” He hissed, utterly incensed at the handling of his new mate. You shook your head, and placed the Cherry on a table, he cowered into your hand, hiding his face as he reached for his mate, but at the same time he still recognized you as a human to trust, you’d bottle fed him after all.
“Ppp-please I want to be with Mori.” He pleaded with you hugging your thumb as his tears colored the edge of his sockets.
You replied softly. “I know, but we have to correct some of his behavior first.” You replied as you shook him off.
He landed on his behind, more tears welling up in his eyes. Before you grabbed a shock collar, and placed it around the neck of the Cherry.
“What’s this’ moAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!” You wasted absolutely no time in shocking the Cherry, watching as its tears pooled on the table, and pissed soaked down its bare legs. The king had thoroughly destroyed any clothing that had been on the Cherry in its vigor. You could make out the small cuts on its form, the first few days had been incredibly rough in terms of sex, not enough to kill the Cherry, but certainly enough that you wondered why it wasnt terrified of the King.
The Cherry flopped on the table, while you looked at the King who’s hood was spread as he hissed, spit and thrashed about in his cage. It was bolted down so there was no way for him to tip it, but it was still quite the sight.
Nodding in satisfaction you placed the sobbing Cherry back in his cage across from the King, where he reached out desperately towards the Cherry intent on comfort, even if that wasn’t his strong suit.
“RELEASSSSE ME AT ONCCCCE! I MUSST COMFORT MY MATE!” He screeched at the same time trying to thrash his tail to strike out at you.
“No comfort will come to your Cherry until we have fixed your behaviors.” You hummed, as you pulled on thick arm coverings and gloves. You approached the King’s cage and unlatched it, grasping around the King’s throat as he attempted to bite your outstretched hand through the gloves. A calculated move in order to direct him as you pleased. 
You wrestled with the King for a while, rolling your eyes and smashing him against the table as he refused to loosen his bite. The King went limp for just a moment while you strapped him to the table with special restraints. His skull wasn't even cracked as you’d gone easy on him, it also helped that his breed was tougher than the pet variety. 
Being strapped down by his neck made the king easier to handle, even when he snapped out of his daze and began to thrash again, this time though without the threat of fangs. It was easy for you to pin down his tail and arms down long enough to strap them to the table. 
This was all just a show of force, to prove that she could do whatever she wanted to his mate, and he could do nothing about it. She needed him as violent as possible in response to threats to his mate, she needed him to stall in relation to his street taught values, if only so she could delete them.
You finished strapping him to the table, and picked up the remote to your mini shock collar, pausing for a moment and wondering if you should maybe start with pulling teeth first. However you needed a far more compliant King than you had currently, and it helped that the Cherry’s cries were beginning to grate on your nerves.
Looking over at the Cherry you sighed, it was still crying, smelly and pitiful as it cowered in the corner furthest from you and the King, too petrified of the violence to move. You waved the button in front of the king who hissed at the sight.
“DO NOT HARM MY MATE YOU WORTHLESSSSSS HUMAN!” He screeched, as you shook your head and pressed the button. As expected the sight of his mate in pain sent him into a frenzy, he spit, while you mocked him for his inability to do anything. You approached the cage of the Cherry intent on subduing the King in the most effective way possible.
“NOOOOOOO!” The King continued to screech. While the Cherry recovered from the shock cowered and begged for you not to hurt him. Of course, that wouldn't happen.
You carefully took the soiled Cherry out of his cage once more, and placed him next to the King, the King seemed to calm as the Cherry strained for its mate. You let them reunite for a moment, if only to grab a bitty sized dental gag and pry the King's mouth open. Once successful, despite the Cherry’s begging. You once more picked up the Cherry, and placed his hand into the King’s mouth, before carefully pricking him with the King’s fangs. 
The unholy screech of the King was nothing like the ones before. His venom was incredibly effective, and on a creature as small as the Cherry its effect was seen immediately. 
Pale faced and beginning to flush redder than normal, the Cherries tears became more frantic. He blubbered the same as normal as he tried to free himself from your grasp. Plopping him next to the King you pressed the button of the shock collar again and held. Looking the King straight in the eyes as it began to cry red tears. There was no understanding past the dental gag. But you knew well enough what was going on. A sinister smile graced your lips as you turned away from the king, taking the Cherry with you as you left the room. As far as the King knew, his mate was dead, dead by its own hand.
---
You returned shortly, having cured the Cherry from the King’s venom and stalled it in order to erase its memory of the training. Standard practice for once a bitty had been fully trained, the training would remain while the memory did not, no risk of blabbing to customers who really had no idea what was happening. It was necessary as while you trained the King the Cherry would bond with its new mother.
The King was still sobbing as you returned, and you used the lack of struggle to your advantage.
“It's a shame he had to die because of you.” You egged on, watching as the King seemed to deflate even further. You took that moment to put on your gloves and remove the restraints. The King didn't attack, and your smile was as venomous as the King as you removed the dental gag.
“WHY?” The King asked, and you couldn't help but chuckle, as you started to stroke its head soothingly, as you spit out harsh words. “That's because you are a bad bitty. A horrible protector.” The king flinched at that but immediately you turned it around. “But still so brave, and handsome.” Of course, the contrary information stilled the King, stalling him, and allowing you to reach for his AI, and stroke it. His eyelights buzzed a little, as you wiped away his need to monopolize his mate, his “charges.” There was of course more work to be done, but he would be too grief stricken to struggle. Just the way you needed him. You supposed it was about time to pull out some teeth.
---
By the time your bitty behavioral therapy was done, the King was a model example of a protection bitty. He was still a horribly bossy creature, but he no longer insisted on isolating his charges or displayed sexual desires outside of for his mate. He focused entirely on “protecting” and only grew violent when there was sufficient threat.
Meanwhile, the Cherry had not stopped crying for his mate until he met his new mother. He was of course still sad, but as most pet variety bitties are ought to do, the introduction of a new mommy or daddy tends to cheer them up instantly. Which was good, as the Chery, newly dubbed Sebastian, had sufficient time to bond with his new mother without the interference of a mate. The client learned easily to care for a Cherry, while also undergoing coaching from the rancher in order to be an effective King owner. 
On the day that the King was to return to his owners care. The owner had been nervous, she had lost confidence in owning bitties, and while Sebastian had helped, it still did not erase the nervousness she felt even after 2 months.
“I’m not sure about taking him back.” She stated, holding the Cherry close to her heart, he was as usual, teary eyed, but at the words of his owner, he burst into hysterics.
“Nooo!!! Mommy please I want Mori back! Please let me see Mori!” He begged, rubbing his snot covered face into her shirt. The owner seemed to deflate at this, and sighed, rubbing her Cherries back in reassurance. While you marveled at the fact that he was still suffering from some sort of stockholm syndrome.
“We’ll just have to see for now.” She said, and looked at you for reassurance. 
“You really don't have to worry.” You replied, voice chipper. “He’s nothing like he was before, you’ll be safer with him now than you would be without. He’s a model King, the perfect guard for any home.” You made your way towards the back noting the wariness of your client, but you stood by what you said, Moriarty was a model King, with all the coaching you’d given Shelby there was no reason to worry anymore.
Making your way into the back you spotted Moriarty in his enclosure, he was sunning himself as you approached. There was no sign of pulled teeth, skinned tails, or broken bones anywhere on him, and he only flinched slightly at the sound of your voice.
“Your mothers ready to see you now.” You sang watching the King light up and practically shoot to your outstretched arm. He curled himself around your arm, vibrating with anticipation at the prospect of seeing his mother again. You hummed in satisfaction as you made your way back to where Shelby was waiting.
The Cherry fell to the floor as he threw himself out of his mothers arms, he fell with a thwack, chanting Mori as he ran to you. The King very nearly pounced at the Cherry, he had tears in his eyes and seemed shocked and elated to see his mate. Although the Cherry's supposed ‘death’ had been erased from his mind he still had thought his mate dead, thus the tears. Before he could rush to his mate you held your hand up. “Stop.” You commanded, preventing the King who was practically vibrating from going to his mate. He was restless and voiced his immense displeasure. “YOU MUST LET ME GO SEE IF MY MATE IS HARMED!” He practically screeched into your ear, but still stayed still, causing Shelby’s eyes to widen in shock. She would have never imagined that the previously unruly and violent King would become so obedient, even if he was still incredibly bossy.
The Cherry at your feet practically hugged your leg as he cried and pleaded for his mate to come to him, you stopped walking forward before your punted him across the room, and smiled warmly at Shelby even as Moriarty squirmed on your shoulders as he looked between his mate and his mother, frustration growing as he stayed put, as you were gesturing for him to.
The cries of the Cherry became background noise as you spoke to Shelby. “As you can see, he’s fully trained now. All you need to do is handle him like I taught you and he’ll respond appropriately.”
“YOU MUST LET ME DOWN NOW!” The king snapped, as he crossed his arms, still waiting for permission. Nothing could change his bossy tone, but he still could be trained to behave.
Your customer sputtered for a bit, before she seemed to snap out of it. “Oh… Um… Yes… Come here.” She said, and gestured with her hands as you’d taught her for her previously unruly King to come.
The response was instant, he practically lept from your arm, disregarding the Cherry, albeit patting him on the head as he passed, and basically leapt into the outstretched hand that his ‘mother’ had out for him. He practically purred at the contact with his ‘mother’, nuzzling her arm affectionately as he hugged her arm, shocking her while at the same time earning a smile.
“I AM VERY CROSS WITH YOU MOTHER! YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW MUCH I MISSED YOU!” The King stated, holding on firmly to his mothers arms as he stared longingly at the crying Cherry that was running and trying to climb up his mothers leg.
“I can see that.” She answered, smile wide and tears coloring the side of her eyes.
“NOW I MUST INSIST THAT WE COMFORT MY MATE!” He screeched, looking down at Sebastian with longing. Which in turn caused his owner to laugh and reach down to pick up the crying Cherry.
“There we go, the whole family’s together, Sebastian, Moriarty and mommy!” She cried, sniffling as Moriarty kissed the forehead of his crying mate.
“Thank you so much!” She cried, as she walked over to you and shook your hand. “I can’t believe how much he’s changed! Thank you! I can’t thank you enough!” 
Grinning ear to ear, you replied. “Really, it was my pleasure.”
37 notes · View notes
xmint-conditionx · 3 years
Text
☆ flanked ☆ ch1 | knj
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(verb) flank - 
guard or strengthen (a military force or position) from the side.
attack down or from the sides, or rake with gunfire from the sides.
☆ pairing: soldier!namjoon x widow!reader; namjoon x fem!reader ☆ word count: 4.7K ☆ summary: you’re a recently widowed military spouse who is stationed at camp walker, south korea. you’re dealing with the tragedy of your husband’s recent death, and in the process, you accidentally meet a k-pop idol you’ve had a crush on for years. who knew you’d both be at the same post while he’s doing his compulsory service? who knew he’d be so damn nice? who knew it would be impossible to get him out of your head? ☆ warnings: angst, mentions of death, grieving, feelings of guilt, brief description of sexual acts. ☆ a/n: hey everyone c: glad to be putting this gem back up into the world. please do let me know if you want to be added to a taglist for this, i’d be happy to oblige! this was one of the first things i’ve written, and so i hadn’t quite found my style yet, but it’s not that bad??? i pretty much have the whole story planned out, but i want to take my time with it. this is my lil baby, and i wanna treat it right uwu this starts off with a lot of angst and tough emotions, but there will be eventual smut!!! huge thank you to my supportive spouse who is in the military and has helped out with some of the realism aspects of this story. hope y’all like it! enjoy!
- minty <3
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It’s raining today. Again. The clouds hang low, like a weighted blanket covering your whole world. Aren’t those things supposed to help with anxiety? If only the clouds comforted you, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to go to… therapy. The word stings in your brain. Another cruel joke of the universe: the un-comforting weighted cloud blanket, and the need for you to go to therapy to ease your pain about a dead therapist. 
The light of the day is beginning to leave as you walk towards the address the man had given you the day before. You really should have been nicer; he really didn’t mean to hurt you. And you really should have asked his name. Mentally kicking yourself, you vow that you’ll do it tonight. After all, this is the only other time you’ve left the house by yourself this week. It was nice to not have the Casualty Assistance Officer breathing down your neck for once. There has to be some good in that. Hell, this little outing might actually be helpful.
The old government building is dull, like both the sky and your feelings. If you died right now and were reincarnated into an object instead of a being, the building in front of you would probably be the best fit. Shades of brown and grey cover tired and worn brick. Government funding has tried its best to keep it presentable but truthfully, it’s barely holding on. It’s definitely seen better days. The more you think about the similarities, the more pathetic you feel, so you push on ahead and push the thoughts out of your mind. The door creaks as you walk in the cold and dark foyer and it all just... makes sense. As empty inside as you are. Jesus, you’ve never been this morbid. There are no lights on other than one at the end of one of the hallways, and you hesitantly step towards it. You don’t like the thought of what that light is going to expose. 
As you reluctantly enter the beam of offensive fluorescent light, someone takes notice of you. Already? They’re walking towards you, hand extended. You’re busy blinking back at the new bright sensation as you reach your hand out to introduce yourself. After blinking back the harsh light, you can see the little folding chairs placed in a circle in the room. Great, you think, just like AA. 
The man before you seems to be in his late 30s, a little on the short side, with a little bit of hair recession. As you finish your short bow to the man, he says in Korean “Yes, someone told us you might be joining us tonight.” as he sends a meaningful look over to one of the chairs in the circle. You follow his gaze to see the man from yesterday grinning up at you, dimples on full display, this time in civilian clothes. After sending you a goofy little wave, he pats the chair next to him and not so smoothly motions for you to sit there. 
“Go ahead,” the older man says, “make yourself comfortable. We’ll be starting in a few minutes.”
You walk toward the empty chair, and take in how truly different he looks in plain clothes. His KATUSA uniform was extremely flattering to his large frame, but this is just downright cruel. The black beanie he’s sporting looks way too good on him. His short sleeved v-neck shirt is a little tight, revealing the finely defined shape of his chest and his arms. He catches your eyes lingering on his body, and you quickly look down as you feel a blush creep up. You tell yourself to just pretend nothing happened, and it’ll all be fine. 
After you sit down, you open your mouth to ask for his name, but he does the same, your voices awkwardly echoing each other. Realizing what happened, your cheeks grow even warmer and you can’t help but turn away as you both share a laugh. You shake it off and give him your name, family first and individual second, attempting to at least make eye contact with him. 
“Nice to officially meet you. I’m Sangbyeong Kim Namjoon, but please don’t feel the need to use titles or honorifics with me. We’re equals here as far as I’m concerned. I’m really glad you decided to come tonight.” 
So, it is him. You can’t even begin to believe it. He looks so different than he did in the tour pictures you saw only a few years ago, but as you look up at him knowing what you know, it all falls into place. Some things for sure didn’t change one bit- his button nose, his deep and smoldering eyes, and the signature dimples really should have given it away. His smile is still just as genuine and reassuring and gleaming and... beautiful?
You immediately squish the thought and offer him back a tight smile. You’re not going to let him know you know who he is. It would probably only make him feel weird and you’ve already been so awful to him. You’re not going to allow yourself to make a big deal about this, and you’re definitely not going to allow yourself to... like him. 
“Look,” you start, “I appreciate your concern. I... I just don’t think something like this will help me. At least not right now.” You sigh, studying your shoes as a distraction. Your hands busy themselves fiddling with your necklace. There’s no way you can be here sitting this close to Namjoon. 
As if he can read your panicked thoughts, Namjoon leans in closer to you, so close you can feel his warm breath on your jaw, and with a hushed and more gravelly voice, he says, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Hell, I didn’t say anything for almost a whole month. It just... felt good to listen. You’re not going to be forced into anything. This is going to go at your speed and be what you’re comfortable with. I promise.” With that last sentence, he places his large, warm hand on your knee. 
Shit. You suddenly feel your entire body ignite. What is this? A bolt of lightning rushes up your spine. Your heart starts to pound in your chest. No, this isn’t happening. Your legs begin to tingle. This can’t be happening; this is not allowed. You swallow hard. 
You don’t want to be aroused. You straight up shouldn’t be aroused. This is messed up. Really messed up. You blink some sense back into yourself and cross your legs away from him which thankfully removes the cursed hand.
You’d imagined being touched by this man for a pretty considerable amount of time some years ago; you had filled your head with countless fantasies, knowing they’d never come true. You’d read countless imaginings of his other fans and admirers. This man had fueled so many hidden desires within you. You’d thought of his hands exploring your frame, his strong arms throwing you around, his plush lips leaving marks along your inner thighs...
Thinking of him had been your guilty little pleasure, even something your husband had liked to playfully tease you about. To actually have him here next to you in the flesh, though, was still somehow unfathomable. Why now, you mentally screamed to the god you didn’t believe in. The universe’s cruel jokes just won’t end, will they? What can you possibly even do about this? You can’t sit here and allow your panties to be wet when your husband hasn’t even been buried yet for fucks sake. God, you’re so ashamed. You’re just going to have to keep him at a polite distance. That’s your only option.
You don’t speak through the meeting. But Namjoon was right, it is kind of nice to hear other people’s stories. Even though it’s only been a week since you found out, there’s a lot of feelings and thoughts you can relate to with these people. You’ve found out why Namjoon comes to these meetings every week. That was a question you didn’t want to linger on, much less learn the answer to. You didn’t want to imagine him experiencing a loss like this. Even when you weren’t convinced it was really him, seeing that same pain in another’s eyes only made yours hurt worse. 
One of Namjoon’s fellow soldiers had died in a training accident, and the whole fire team was there doing group therapy. They spent most of their time remembering the funny things he would do to cheer everyone up during their long ruck marches and their annoying and boring bouts of equipment cleaning. Private First Class Derek Williams was the goofball of the group, and he was definitely well loved. Namjoon’s eyes never fully lit up when everyone’s anecdotes hit their punchline.
As the meeting draws to a close and people begin filing out, the group leader comes over to the both of you and asks Namjoon how his thoughts have been over the past week. It’s interesting that the man takes special interest in Namjoon. He nods and just casually replies, “I keep thinking it should have been me instead.”
His relaxed confession is absolutely shocking. Why would he say that? The older man seems to be as surprised as you are.
“Namjoon-ah, please don’t say such things,” the man urges. 
“I know how it sounds, I really do. I’m not going to do anything crazy, and I know it’s a pointless thought,” he shrugs. “It’s just how I’ve been feeling.” 
The older man nods. 
“Go in well-being, Namjoon. Please, call me if you need to.”
You find yourself walking out together. The sky is now fully dark and there’s an added chill in the air, urging you to pull your scarf up a little higher. At least it’s not raining anymore. It’s not usually this cold in Daegu at this time of year; you’re practically begging Spring to come. Although you’re in stride with each other, Namjoon feels like he’s a million miles away.
 “Hey,” you begin, hoping to ease the tension. “I’m sorry about your friend. He sounded like a really nice guy.” 
“Yeah, he was. Thanks. I’m sorry about your husband too. You seem to miss him a lot.” 
“Yeah, I do. Part of me still doesn’t believe he can really be gone. I feel like I’ve been walking around in a daze for the past week. All the paperwork I’ve had to sign. All the logistics. It’s all a little overwhelming so I… just kind of shut down most of the time. Our dog is still looking for him around the house, too, which is probably the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Oh, shit. I couldn’t imagine. I have a dog too and... I don’t want to think about how confused they must be. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
You both stop walking, because you realize you’ve allowed him to walk you all the way to your car. He didn’t even ask.
“Speaking of my son… I... actually need to go walk him. He’s been inside all day and it’s finally stopped raining. Huskies need exercise... So...”
Namjoon lights up a little. “Do you walk him on post?”
“No actually, we go to Duryu Park. He likes the ducks that gather at the pond. Although they probably won’t be doing very much at this time of night.”
“Hey, why don’t we go together?” he asks, “It’s dark out and it’s not a good idea for you to be by yourself.” 
“Excuse me?” you snap. He doesn’t know you’re a brown belt, but he sure is about to.
A flustered Namjoon begins stumbling over his words. “I’m just saying, you’re like really small and someone could easily—“
“Namjoon,” you laugh. “I think I can handle myself.”
“No, uh, what I’m trying to say is that there’s safety in numbers, you know? It would be difficult to fight off bad guys while keeping hold of your dog...” He has a good point. You’ve never walked Draco this late before. You don’t want to admit it, but your recent lesson in mortality has left you a little more than uneasy, especially now that Namjoon has made you think about it.
He continues his word vomit, mistaking your furrowed eyebrows for reluctance instead of consideration. 
“Look, I’m sure you’re very intimidating but—“
Oh my god, you can’t take it anymore. 
“Namjoon!” you exclaim and he finally, finally stops the verbal deluge. “Fine.” 
He seems astonished. “Really?”
“Yeah, meet me by the bridge that leads to the little island in the middle of the pond in like... 30 minutes. We usually do two laps around the water. And...” you pause, “thanks.” You’re a little annoyed at how persistent he can be, but he is really considerate.
His eyes sparkle in the light of the street lamps and you notice his gaze linger on your pursed lips. He does a... weird little hop and finally fully smiles at you. You’ve forgotten how utterly striking his full smile can be. Jesus Christ, how many teeth does this man have? His cheeks have become even more round and his eyes shrink into little half moons. Your stomach does somersaults as you bask in the glow of his happiness. Ugh, not again.
“Okay, I’ll see you soon!” he says, hurrying away. You don’t notice him glance back at you, and that’s probably a good thing.
You get in your car and put your forehead against the steering wheel. Why can’t you just say no to this man?
___________________________
You walk up to the start of the bridge with your pup in tow, who is obviously very pleased to be outside and at his favorite park to boot. The street lamps don’t cover much, but you can just make out a leggy figure standing next to a small white fluff ball. You’d forgotten he said he had a dog too. As you get closer, you see he’s got the leash handle around his wrist, because both his hands are holding two white cups with steam pouring out of the top. 
“What’s this?” you ask, as he extends one of the cups to you. Your dogs are busy sniffing each other, ears back and tails wagging. 
“Hot chocolate! It’s really cold out and I noticed you shivering when we got out of the group therapy building and I was going to get you coffee but I didn’t know what kind you like or how you take it plus it’s late and caffeine might keep you up all night and I didn’t want to—“
“Namjoon,” you cut him off before he explodes. “Thank you.” you reply, taking a sip of the hot drink and relishing in how it warms you up. You look back up at the handsome man, who is beaming down at you, enthralled in your pleased reaction. Warmth is beginning to spread through your body, and as your eye contact with him deepens, you begin to wonder if it’s just the hot chocolate. You can’t help yourself. “You do know that there’s a lot of sugar in hot chocolate though, right?” 
He furrows his eyebrows and panic soon consumes his face.
 “Oh! Right! I’m sorry I—“
“Relax, I’m just teasing you. I’ll be fine, promise. And if I’m not and you end up keeping me up all night, I guess I’ll just have to kick your ass.” you deadpan, which takes more effort than usual because now, you’re picturing him… keeping you up all night.
He starts laughing and you can’t help but to join him. He has a good, hearty laugh, one that makes his entire face light up. It feels really good to be laughing with him. 
“Oh!” he exclaims suddenly, “this is Moni!” gesturing down to the adorable American Eskimo at the end of the pink leash. 
You squat down to formally introduce yourself to Moni. You let him sniff your hand as your dog takes the opportunity to sneak some kisses on your face. 
“Bananas, stop!” you light-heartedly scold, but your pooch doesn’t get the message. He seems encouraged instead, and you are given no mercy by your big fluffy boy. 
Namjoon just laughs at how adorably frustrated you are. After he’s had enough entertainment, he extends a hand and helps you back up. This is the first time you’ve touched skin to skin, and your body is keenly aware of it. His hands are softer than you thought they’d be, and really warm. With how cold it is, you wish you could keep holding onto his strong yet elegant hands. Even after he’s released you, a symphony of tingles play in your legs, betraying you once again.
“Shall we then?” Namjoon asks, tilting his head down slightly so he’s looking at you through his eyelashes. Why does he have to do that? He can’t look at you like that. It’s illegal. Not allowed. He’s torturing you, and surely he has to know that. Or is he oblivious? He’s probably not even trying, because he has no reason to. He doesn’t even need to try. Which is kind of the problem, because you can’t exactly tell him to stop being so damn hot.
You can only answer him by tugging on your leash with a “let’s go!”
Over your walk, you talk about favorite places to eat in town and the different attractions you’ve come to love during your stay here. He talks about one of his best friends who grew up here in Daegu, so he knows all of these nice little spots only a local would typically know. You don’t have to wait for him to say Yoongi’s name before you know who he’s talking about, bringing up a hint of stinging remorse at your secret. He says they’re still in contact as much as they can be, but it tends to be difficult when they were both doing their compulsory service. Yoongi had finished his obligation, and is back in Seoul working on music. For his time, he was stationed right outside of Seoul working with the Korean Military Police, so he never really had to totally put down his work. He talks about Yoongi like they’re brothers, and it’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever seen. Namjoon doesn’t even try to hide how much he misses his friend.
He asks about where you grew up, and the question is kind of startling. It’s not that you’re not wanting to tell him, but you’re surprised that he wants to know.
“I grew up in Georgia, in the United States. It’s in the Southeastern part of the country.”
“Ah okay, so you grew up close to Atlanta?” he asks, full of curiosity. 
“Kind of! I was about a 4 hour drive from there. I grew up closer to the ocean.” you say, and notice his eyes light up when you mention the sea.
“There’s a guy in my unit,” he begins, “who did his training in Georgia. He said that there isn’t much there other than Atlanta...” he says, quickly noticing your bemused look. He catches himself and finishes, “but in hindsight he was likely biased.”
“He probably trained at Ft. Benning. If that’s the case, I don’t blame him for thinking that at all,” you say, “He’s actually kind of right, if that’s all of Georgia he got to see,” you continue, laughing a little.
“Well, what do you think of Georgia?”
“Hmmmm. I think I wouldn’t have wanted to grow up anywhere else. The area where I grew up was close to the beach, but there was also a lot of agriculture. My grandma even had a peach tree in her backyard. She’d let me go back there and pick a peach and eat it if I had behaved that day. Peaches are my favorite, so it was a pretty good motivator.”
“Georgia is known for their peaches, right?” he asks, but his tone tells you he already knows the answer to that. You had always thought people were exaggerating at how smart he is, but you can’t deny the fact any longer.
“Yeah, we’re even called the peach state. Peaches, pecans, sweet onions and peanuts all grow well there.” you say and he nods with understanding. 
“So what about the town you grew up in?”
“The town was pretty small, my high school maybe had 500 people in it. But the bigger city by us was great. A lot of different types of people. A lot of good food. God, I miss southern food a lot.” you gasp, grabbing his bicep with your free hand, “Namjoon! You haven’t lived until you’ve had good collard greens!” 
“Collard greens? I’ve never heard of that,” he says, scrunching up his eyebrows.
“It’s a side dish we eat down south. It goes with just about everything, but it’s best next to fried chicken and macaroni and cheese.”
“Macaroni and cheese…” he muses, letting the English words roll off his tongue, “I really want to try more American food. I’ve had plenty of hamburgers, but I want to try everything. PFC Williams always let me try his lunch if I asked him. He brought this thing called potato salad one day… that was an interesting experience.”
You sigh, “there’s much more to American food than just hamburgers and potato salad. Too bad there aren’t any real authentic American food restaurants here. Although, there is a Johnny Rockets on the other side of town. Is that where you get your hamburgers?”
“Yeah… it is. Chain restaurants are cheating though, right?”
“Yeah, basically. If you want real American food, you’ve got to get a real American to make it for you. I thought I really liked Korean food until I moved here. Americanized Koean food is not half as good as the real thing,” you assure him.
“I could have told you that,” he teases, giving you a light bump with his shoulder. “Do you have a favorite restaurant in town?”
You discuss the places you have come to love in Daegu, from restaurants to parks to shopping areas to museums. You both realize you enjoy art, although he prefers looking at it while you enjoy making it. The conversation ventures to Pollock and Monet and Van Gogh and you go on about how you just don’t get Picassos. He just lets you just rant about how much you hate his works for probably too long, until you’ve run out of breath and are forced to take a break.
“Wow, that bad huh? What did he ever do to you?” Namjoon chuckles.
“He destroyed my corneas with his kindergarten level bullshit, that’s what.” you snap, which only makes him laugh more.
“So it’s safe to say that you hate Banksy too, then?” 
“No way!” you say, “Banksy is a genius!”
He just continues to chuckle, clearly amused. “I will never understand you, woman.” 
“Are you trying to?” you quip before you can stop yourself, and his laughs die down. Oh, no. That was so direct. Way too direct. He’s got to know you’re into him now; he’d be a moron to not pick up on it. Your stomach is doing somersaults again, but not the good kind this time. You’ve known him for less than two days, so why did you think that was a good thing to say?
You chew your lip, worried of what he might be thinking. Or worse, what he might actually say. After an excruciatingly long silence, finally, it happens.
“Yes. I am.” 
What does that even mean?! Your thoughts are beginning to spiral again, and thankfully, he continues, albeit way too nonchalantly. 
“And honestly, it’s been really enjoyable to do.”
It’s been... enjoyable? Has he already forgotten how you met? This man must have a death wish if getting verbally murked by a strange woman in public was something he considered to be ‘enjoyable.’ You’re immeasurably grateful he isn't looking at you right now, because it’s nearly impossible to hide your astonishment. 
“So…” he begins slowly, “I hope you’ll continue to let me.”
What do you even say to something like that? Namjoon is so much nicer than you ever expected, and that fact is only making things more difficult for you. You’ve had more enjoyment in this one walk than you’ve had this whole week, but there’s about a million different reasons why you should stay away from him. If you only could have met under different circumstances, this might be something you could explore. Honestly, you would still love to explore the possibilities with him, even here and now, but the thoughts of your husband are difficult to push away. 
You recoil at that and curse yourself. 
They shouldn’t be pushed away! It’s not fair to your husband or to his memory. It wouldn’t even be fair to Namjoon! You can barely give yourself a hundred percent right now, much less a new friendship. On top of everything, you’re going to have to go back to the states in less than 6 months, which is an eventuality you’re not looking forward to facing. 
The only sounds now are the soft contact of your shoes against pavement, the tinkling of metal dog tags, and the cold breeze rustling the trees around the four of you. You were correct about there being no ducks out this late, and you find yourself missing their chatter. Anything to distract you from this confrontation would be welcome right now. As the silence grows longer, it becomes more and more difficult for you to respond. You’ve never been great with words, but what do you have to lose besides looking like an idiot? Besides, you’ve already done that. Like, yesterday. You take a deep breath and offer up the most broad explanation.
“Namjoon, I just can’t be a good friend to you right now.”
“That’s not what I’m asking for.” he simply replies, not missing a beat. Why is he being so stubborn? You’re going to have to elaborate. Forget trying to not make a fool out of yourself. He’s a good person, and he deserves your honesty-- at least most of it.
“I can’t be a good friend to you ever. I’m too consumed in my own baggage right now to help you carry yours. Plus, I’ll have to return to the States soon. I just… don’t want to be a burden on you.”
“That’s… not what I’m asking for,” he says again.
Frustration building up causes you to sigh at him. You’re going to need a little help from this infuriating dimpled tree-man, so you make him give it to you.
“What are you asking for, then?” you inquire with a little sting in your tone, leaving him with no room to continue being vague.
“I am asking to continue spending time with you. That’s it. I enjoy your company.” he says. This answer is still unacceptable to you because...
“I literally yelled at you in a parking lot yesterday, Namjoon,” you say.
“Yeah, but that was…” he trails off and scratches his head, “kind of my fault.” 
“You can’t be serious. You… didn’t know.”
“That might be true, but I still hurt you, and I’d like the chance to continue making it up to you. At risk of sounding really cheesy… Part of my job as a KATUSA is to be a symbol of the friendship and mutual support of our two fine countries... To learn from and assist each other... I don’t see why we couldn’t do that too...”
“That… really was cheesy, Namjoon,” you chuckle.
He smiles down at you, and your heart skips around in your chest. When he speaks again, he draws out the first word, clearly in a teasing mood now.
“Okay, but… did it work?” he teases with a sly grin as he side-eyes you.
Part of you wants to tell him no, but he does deserve honesty after all. At least mostly honesty. You want to reveal to him that you know who he is, but you’re unsure of the words to say. He seems eager to stay in your life here, for whatever reason. Compared to what you’ve just been through, nothing can really hurt you again. So what’s the harm, really? It’s not like you have anyone else to spend time with. 
“Yeah,” you confess. “It did.”
“So,” he begins, “does that mean you’ll let me show you the museum you haven’t been to yet? There’s this once piece in there that is spectacular. You have to let me show you.”
After a considerable silence, he looks at you with soft, begging eyes and lets out a soft “Please?”
“Okay, Namjoon. You got it.”
You cannot say no to this man.
“Saturday then? In the morning? We’ll want to beat the crowd, especially if you want to explore the whole thing!”
“That works for me. You know, I’m actually looking forward to you being my personal tour guide.”
“Great! I guess you really must be from Georgia. You’re sweet, just like a peach.”
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Survey #405
“today i went to therapy, told him the embarrassing issues that i’m having with my life  /  he told me that i need to change; life is not a video game, so stop playing & open up your eyes”
What was your favourite sweet as a child? Things like Baby Bottle Pops, Ring Pops, Airheads, etc. Do you like to wear socks to bed? NOOOOOOO. I don't wear socks unless I have to. What’s your favourite berry? Strawberries. If you have a job, how long is your shift? I don't. Do you like sunflowers? Well yeah. Are you counting down for anything? No. Are you watching TV? What’s on? No. Do you have make-up on? No. I haven't worn makeup since last October. Are you any good with kids? People have told me I am, but I beg to differ. What if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? We're both cisgender women, we physically couldn't. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years time? It'd be nice honestly, but I kinda doubt I will be. What is your favorite card game? Magic: The Gathering. What is the weirdest thing you’ve done in public? Ha, probably the times I've gotten down on the ground beside the road to photograph roadkill... More than once has someone stopped and asked if I was okay, haha. Favorite sleeping position? Twisted half on my side and stomach with my legs just sorta splayed out. What is your dad’s name? Ken. Have you ever been on a diet? Multiple times. Do you own any jersey shirts? No. Are you proud to be of the nationality you are? There are two moods I have on this: I'm either neutral or embarrassed. Can you remember what you last clapped for? Omg the woman who facilitates my TMS treatment was telling Mom and me about this one time a tiny snake got in the lobby and I did a lil squeal and clapped a bit because I was just excited to hear about a little snake, haha. What is the geekiest part of your music collection? *shrug* Maybe game soundtrack music. What do you eat when you raid the fridge late at night? Well, not really the fridge, but w/e. I'll usually get a granola bar or something of the sort. What is the little physical habit that gives away you're insecure moment? Kneading/wringing my hands together is a dead giveaway. Do you have too many love interests? No. How much money would it take to get you to give up the Internet for one year? If you want honesty... probably no amount would lmao. I rely way too heavily on the Internet for so many things. Do you talk a lot? It depends on my mood and who I'm around. Do transient, homeless, or starving people sometimes annoy you? What a fucking awful question. They don't annoy me. It can be awkward driving past them, but they're in no way annoying. Do you consider yourself to be a nice person? I definitely try to be. What is your ideal marriage location? Either a gothic-looking mansion or something of the sort or a wooded area in the fall. Do you tell your friends about your sex life? I don't have one to talk about. Would you ever admit to having done plastic surgery of any kind if confronted? Yeah? No shame. What kind of watch(es) do you wear? I don't wear watches. What do you cook the best? My family likes my scrambled cheesy eggs... basic as that is, haha. When my sisters would go to Taco Bell all the time and save the hot sauces for later use, I would use some packets in the eggs I cooked. Honestly amazing. What's one car you will never buy? "Anything that is two door, or low to the ground." <<<< This right here. On the other end of the spectrum, I also won't ever buy a car that's high up. I need a good medium so I can actually get in with ease. What's one thing you're a sore loser at? Hm, I dunno. What kind of first impression do you think you give to people? "Wow, she's awkward." What's one thing you like to do alone? Draw. When's the last time you cried? Not long ago at all because I was just so exasperated over my weight gain. Do you think you're cute? God no. Do you have problems changing clothes in front of friends? I don't change in front of anyone if I can avoid it. Did you like kissing the last person you kissed or the one before that more? The last person. I gotta say I was not a fan of kissing Girt because for whatever reason his lips were ALWAYS wetter than lips naturally should be and I just didn't dig it, man. That and every kiss with him was awkward. Whose bed other than yours did you last lay on? My mom's. What turns you off immediately? Acting sexist, to name one. Which city do you particularly enjoy visiting and for what reasons? I don't like going into cities. Do you often take pictures with the camera on your phone? No. I don't like the camera on my phone. In the past year, have you lost weight or gained weight? How much? Gained. You don't need to know. What year was the last car you rode in/drove? I have zero clue. What’s your worst/funniest experience with one of your neighbors? "Worst" and "funniest" are very different... but I can tell you the worst easily. At my childhood home, our next-door neighbors had a pair of Rottweilers in their back yard within a chain-link fence, and we had a LOT of outdoor cats at the time. (I will emphasize every time I bring it up to NOT keep cats outside.) Somehow the dogs got loose and went on a rampage trying to kill our cats; one young one was killed, while our fearless mother cat, Chance, literally fought them off to defend her new kittens. More were maybe killed, I honestly can't remember. My mom was hysterical and threatened to call animal control if it ever happened again. I was absolutely, utterly heartbroken. The last time you burned your tongue or mouth, what were you eating? Ummm I want to say it was some sort of pasta that I didn't let cool long enough. Honestly, are you shallow? Far from it, honestly. Can/could your parents tell when you were lying? Not always. Besides clothes, shoes, and accessories, what’s your favorite thing to shop for? I love window-shopping at Morph Market, haha. AAAAAAAAAALL those ball python morphs, man... *drools* Does/did your parents ever go through your computer or cell phone? When I was younger, Mom was very intent on figuring out why I was always so secretive about what I did on the computer (mostly RP-related things) that ohhhh yeah, she'd do some digging. The night she finally snapped, demanding I tell her my passwords to everything, and she ultimately found out about me being a forum RPer, was literally almost traumatic to me, I think. I know, that sounds INCREDIBLY overdramatic, but I'm not fucking joking. I was in my room SOBBING on my best friend's shoulder, who was spending the night. I was just so embarrassed, and I *still* am when I share that fact with people I know, even though I have no reason to be. Like I don't do any weird or kinky RP shit, it's just genuine, artistic writing with actual, well thought-out plots, but I still feel like people would think it dumb, childish, and just weird. What song reminds you the most of a particular day in your life? Why is that? "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin. I've talked about it a few times before and really don't feel like doing it again. Do you have any close friends that were adopted? I don't think so. Who, in your opinion, is the best thriller writer? I don't know. Does your mom eat meat? Yeah. Was your dad ever on a sports team? Lots in high school, I believe. Do you prefer thick or thin crusted pizza? Thick, by a long shot. What do you have in your fruit salads? Not a fan of fruit salads. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? I've only needed a wheelchair once in my life, and that was just to get inside and maneuver around the doctor's office when I tore a ligament in my foot. So no. What are your favorite word? Serendipity, tranquility, lucid, etc.; pretty, peaceful words like those. Is there a lot of drama in your life? Nope. I don't do enough or have enough people in my life for there to be. What are you listening to? An extended version of "Nightsong" from WoW. Do you hear any animals right now? No. I'm sure I'd hear birds if I didn't have my earplugs in, though. Have you ever played fetch with a dog? Yes. Have you ever pet a stingray? No. Who is the last baby you held? Emerson, my youngest niece. Do you have any scars from an animal? Yeah; I've got looooots from my cat playing too rough. Have you ever seen an Igloo? I don't believe so. Do you like Korn? They're high on my list of faves. Are you more afraid of tornadoes or hurricanes? Absolutely tornadoes. Do you like mushrooms? Ugh, NO. Have you ever been on Omegle? No. So do you have a favorite M&M? Just the regular ones. Have you ever snuck out? No. Do you currently feel like you have pretty stable career goals/a pretty stable life plan? Have you ever felt this way? I don't know, man. I know what I WANT to do, I just don't know if I'm ever going to get there. Or if what I want will be financially supportive enough, now that I'm really losing interest in photographing people. I might just have to if I want to be financially stable with photography, which would be okay, but bleh. I'd much rather just work with nature. If you could buy an android that was was convincingly human and could be tailored to be your perfect partner, would you want one? No. I don't want to build my own partner, nor do I want my romantic partner to be an android. I want life to just introduce me to a person who is uniquely themselves, who have built themselves from their own life experiences, and not just have a perfect spouse tailored to everything I like. If you do not identify as being “straight,” can you remember back to your childhood some things you did that were, in hindsight, possible indicators of your future sexuality? Yes, especially in middle school. I thought women were prettier than probably a straight kid would, and looking back, I definitely found the natural curves of the female figure to be attractive. When you consume media (movies, books, etc.) with a romantic element, what sort of romance scenarios interest you most? Hm. I know I prefer serious ones over silly; like I'm a sucker for Nicholas Sparks' style, if that says anything. If you are female, do you feel connected to other women as a class? What sort of things make you feel a strong sense of sisterhood or female empowerment? This is too big of a question for me to feel like delving into right now, haha. But I can say it more so depends on the individual than the gender when it comes to feeling connection over anything.
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March 23rd - Day 1: “That’s my family.” + fluff @evanbuckleyweek
I.L.Y. Fam
Hen walked in with Karen. It was rare for all their schedules to line up let alone their spouses and partners so Buck was gonna make sure to enjoy this. He waved them over even if he'd barely had one sip of his beer.
"Hey Hen. Hi Karen." Buck greeted them waving at their drinks already served.
"You're so considerate Buck. It's nice to see you. How've you been?" Karen asked as she and Hen sat together after saying a quick 'thanks buck' and started talking to Eddie.
"Pretty good. Better now that I'm off the blood thinners." Buck shrugged taking another sip of his beer.
"Trust me, we can all sleep easier knowing that. Hen said you and her saved an old married couple yesterday, they sounded sweet," Karen asked.
"The dangers of viagra." Buck joked as he saw maddie get up in his peripheral vision.
"Oh! She left that part out. But it makes more sense now." Karen blushed.
"My bad, sorry." Buck hissed then looked over to his sister.
"Buck, come with me to get the appetizers. They're taking too long and the bartenders are swamped." Maddie asked while Karen turned to Hen and Chimney.
Buck nodded at Eddie before he got back to a conversation with Athena that Bobby was in the middle of literally. Something about which flavor of sauce was better on wings. Bobby was trying to be a mediator and looked to be torn.
Maddie was already half way through the crowd as buck speed up to follow.
The wings and cheese sticks were ready but the bartenders were still at both ends with a crowd gathered around so the cook came out to hand them off.
Buck was grabbing some extra napkins when a guy started talking to him.
"Hi there, long, blond, and muscular. Think you could spare a few minutes to talk." The shorter dark haired dude with a sleeve tattoo raised his eyebrows.
"Umm. Sorry, but I've gotta-"
"You're firefighters right? I remember seeing y'all last week on a pileup." He smiled brightly.
"Yeah. But- I'm not look-"
"Alright. I can tell when I'm being too forward. I'm sure your coworkers want you back with their food. But if you change your mind, "
"They're not my coworkers." Buck clarified swiftly getting a puzzled expression from the man.
"They're my family. Have a good night." Buck went back to their joined tables.
Buck didn't know why he didn't like hearing that. It wasn't even anything against the guy. Bars were a place almost everyone tried to meet people. He didn't mean to come off as rude but he wasn't exactly looking for anything right now either, not just anyone.
"Bartenders aren't the only ones fighting off too much attention huh?" Chim asked while swiping a wing before buck even put it down.
"Yeah. But uh, he wasn't my type. Not anymore." Buck shrugged grabbing a cheese stick and dipping it as both chimney and Eddie looked on with wide eyes.
"Is that a- was Buck 1.0 into quickies with guys too?" Chimney asked.
"Buck 3.0 is still very much into dudes but not just anyone, at any time. I want a- connection." Buck said taking a sip to calm his nerves. This wasn't how or when, hell not even where he would choose to come out to them. He knew they wouldn't see him any differently but a small part thought maybe they would just a little. The voice that won't leave him alone at night until he went to sleep even then it only stayed quiet for a while.
"You've come a long way Buck." Bobby said. "I hope you do find that someone. Maybe they're looking forward to meeting you too."
"If you ever want to talk." Hen offered over her drink before grabbing Karen's hand.
"Thanks Hen." Buck blushed but he'd blame the alcohol.
"You keep surprising me." Eddie said as the others went back to eating and talking.
"Huh. Good surprise or bad?"
"No. Definitely good. It takes a lot to open up like that. Courage and trust." Eddie pointed his beer as if making sure buck understood who he was talking about.
"Well, I've got something else that'll surprise you. I didn't intend to out myself. At least not yet or maybe here but I've thought about it." Buck gulped but it wasn't because of his drink.
"Family?" Eddie asked.
"What? There's no way in hell you heard that from across the room." Buck said too quickly.
"I didn't. I read your lips. At least I think I did. I take it I was right then," Eddie smirked. "Your not the only one with surprises buck."
"I guess I'm not huh. But you are, family I mean, to me. We don't just work together. It just felt weird hearing that. I don't know."
"You're family too. I don't know what we'd do without you." I love you.
"Well, you're not gonna have to find out any time soon hopefully. Doctor said minus the blood thinners I am in peak physical condition." Buck flexed.
"Careful with those or Athena's gonna have to place you under citizen's arrest for them guns." Chim joked.
"Stop showing off little brother." Maddie laughed as chimney started placing bets against Hen and Bobby of who'd win in arm wrestling between the youngest pair.
Buck lost one out of three after telling Eddie he let him win the first time.
"You work with children" Karen said.
"Don't worry, they've got adult supervision." Athena said loudly earning an 'hurt' gesture from both of them.
"They're not always like this." Hen said.
"We're professionals on and off the job" chimney said counting his collected money.
"A round of shots on chim." Maddie pulled a 20 from his fan of money to his slight protest.
"Awe chim. You shouldn't have." Karen chuckled as Maddie and buck waved a waiter over.
Yeah. Tonight was a good night.
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mommaofthedrama · 4 years
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Burns Like Hell
Chapter four
Summary: Y/n Teller-Morrow is adjusting to life in Santo Padre, but when things start to go south back home, will she be pulled back to the toxic town she just escaped? Or will she actually finally move forward?
Pairing: Past Juice Ortiz x Female Reader, Angel Reyes x Female Reader
Warnings: angst, swearing, smut in later chapters.
A/N: any feed back would be great. I don’t own the gif. Credit to the creator. Also i'm sorry, this one got long!
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I’ve been here in Santo Padre for three months now, I got a job in the office of the auto shop the Mayans MC owns. Which means I see Angel daily, also means my brother gets updates daily. Jax has called a few times since I’ve moved but anytime they have club business he’s sent Happy. Who seems more than okay with that. Happy may be to the rest of the word, a ruthless killer but to me he’s always been that “uncle” that listens and is the biggest sweetheart, so long as I tell no one about it. My mom calls just about every day. I think she’s having a harder time adjusting than me. It’s been almost six months now since my Juan was killed. It still stings but I can finally interact with people without forcing myself not to cry. So baby steps. Angel and I despite seeing each other at work, hang out pretty much every night. Well every night he’s not busy with the club that is. I have adjusted to the new job and all the members of this club.
As I arrive at work, every morning with out fail I am met by Angel, Coco, and Ez. This morning though, Angel was already talking to Bishop so I decided to head into the office to start for the day. Coco and Ez follow behind me. “So when are you gonna accept the fact that we are meant to be Precoisa?” Coco joked.
Ez slapped him on the arm, gives me a grin and says “I’m sorry about him. Anyway the whole club is going to Charming tomorrow morning, are you coming with us?”
I blink not really sure how to feel about this, “Well this is the first I’m hearing about this, so I’m not sure. I don’t know if I’m ready.” I explain
Coco taking a drag of his smoke, replies, “You gotta face those feelings sooner or later, or you’ll be mentally fucked up like I am.”
Ez shoots Coco a look as Angel walks in the door. Angel adds to the conversation with, “ plus, mi amor, it’s not like you’ll be alone. You’ll have us.”
I sigh knowing they are right and I should go home to show my family I don’t hate them so reluctantly I blurt out, “Fine I guess I will go. But if I have a shit time, I’m holding you three responsible.”
The three men laughs and in unison say “Deal.” Then angel adds one last thing before clocking in and starting work, “If you do have a shit time Mami, I will personally make up for it.” I narrow my eyes at him skeptical, As Angel sends me a evil grin.
“What did you have in mind?” I question.
He laughs with one foot out the door, “You’ll just have to have a shit time to find out”
Calling Angel an ass which he didn’t hear I start my paper work for the day. It was almost lunch time when my phone rings, seeing it was Tig, I sent it to voicemail thinking I could call him in a few minutes when I get on lunch. Then not even a minute after I bumped tig’s call Happy was calling, Happy never calls. Something had to be wrong. Swiping answer before I could even say hello Happy was already talking and sounded erratic. Almost scared. So I say “Hello? Happy, what’s wrong?”
Happy then let out a groan, “Tell me you’re coming home tomorrow.”
I laugh feeling less worried than I did when I first answered,”Yeah Angel,Ez,and Coco promised to make it worth my while if I have a shit time. Why does the big bad killer miss me that bad?” I joked
Happy sounding more uneasy than ever now replies with, “Something happened and you won’t have a good time. But you do need to be here. I do miss my little rule breaker but I don’t wanna see you like this.”
Anxiety now has my heart pumping and tears threating to fall, “ What happened happy? And Don’t fucking lie to me.”
Happy exhales, “The cops.. They.. Found.. Gemma dead.. In her rose garden…please just come home. Jax is acting weird and I have a feeling she would want you to take care of this anyway.”
The tears have already started falling at this point so all I could say is “ I’ll be on my way as soon as I can,” I hung up the phone, just as I did and started to completely break down, Angel burst into the office to go to lunch with me. He noticed my current state and immediately rushes over to hug me, and strokes my hair as I sob. He doesn’t ask what happened. He just sits there until I’m ready to say something. I wasn’t sure how long I was like that but bishop must have been called by Tig cause he texted Angel and told him to take me to Charming tonight, He also told Angel he and the rest of the club would be there tomorrow, and if I needed anything they would get it.
When I finally didn’t have anything left. I looked at Angel, “I ‘m sorry I, I need to go home and get packed.”
Angel nods and adds, “I’m taking you. Bishop said.” And holds his phone so I could see it. He then adds, “I’m not sure what’s going on here princessa, but I wont ask until you’re ready either.”
I smile and thank Angel. Once at my house I packed Quickly only grabbing the essentials for a few days. We then went to his house and he did the same. We loaded into my crossover and hit the road, Angel insisted on driving, said whatever was going on had me too emotional to be driving. And I couldn’t argue because he was right. I sat next to him in the front passenger seat, when I finally broke the silence. “They found my mom shot dead in her rose garden, I have to go make the arrangements,”
Angel looks as if I just shot his dog, “I’m so sorry mami, you’ve been through so much this year, you just cant catch fucking break.” He muttered sounding heart broken. But then he continued, “You know I’ll be whatever you need right Y/n? I know I make jokes about being your next boy friend but, whatever you need me to be, I’ll be it.”
Touched by his words and not really sure what to say, “I know Angel but I feel like it’s not fair to you.”
Angel puts his right hand on mine, and shush me “ nah mami, don’t worry about me. I’ll admit I have a thing for you but this isn’t about me. It’s about you, and what you need. What kind of person would I be if I rushed you into something you aren’t ready for? Don’t worry a bout that. Take your time. Fuck I cant imagine losing my spouse and my fucking mom in the same goddamn year.”
I somehow get out a “yeah..” before I put on some music so I can cry while I look out a window thinking about everything. I couldn’t help but think if I had never moved away somehow it might’ve made a difference. Before I knew it we were pulling into the parking lot of the sons of anarchy club house parking lot. Looking over at me Angel asks, “You ready? Cause I could totally drive around town for as long as you need.”
I shake my head no, flattered at the lengths he will go for me. “NO I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Lets get this over I guess.” With that we get out of the car and go into the club house Angel and I are met with the whole club greeting us with hugs and condolences. In the back of the room I see my brother and the lawyer waiting on me. Its almost five pm now so Angel and I must have made pretty good time. Walking over to my brother, Angel sits at the bar with Tig, Chibs, and Happy. Jax stands to give me a hug.
He whispers into my ear “How are you holding up?”
I pull away from the hug and mutter an “I’m alright you?”
Jax shrugs, looks at the lawyer and asks, “So what do we have to do?”
The lawyer starts going over mom’s wishes and such. I am only half listening because I cant shake the feeling as I watch Jax, that Happy was right. Jax is acting weird, and his and mom’s relationship was always strained for on reason or the other. After the lawyer leaves, Jax looks at me. “you look like you spaced out most that meeting, are you ok?”
Stunned by my sudden of set of balls, “Do you know who did it?” I blurt out. Knowing fulll well if he did, he would more than likely lie to me. You know club politics and all that bullshit.
Jax blinks looking annoyed and asks almost in a warning tone, “Do I know who did what?”
Now I was getting annoyed. “Cut the shit Jaxon. I know damn well nothing happens in this town without you knowing who and why. And if you don’t know when it happens you normally know within 24 hours. So do you know who killed mom and juice. I deserve to know.”’
Jaxon clenches his jaw grabs my arm and pulls me into the church room. “What the fuck was that?” he hisses to which I just shrugged my shoulders and crossed my arms. He huffs, sits down and lights a smoke. “Yeah I know, the answer to both you’re questions but you thinking you DESERVE anything when I had to protect you from yourself is laughable.”
Now extremely pissed and tears ready to fall, I near yell “That’s fucking golden coming from the dude who went bat-shit and shot my father after his best friend died, which wasn’t his doing by the way.” I humorously laugh and continue my tangent “It’s not like you’ve been the poster boy on fucking grieving since your wife and Opie died so yeah I think I deserve to know who killed my husband and our mom you egotistical dickhead.”
Jax stood up less than amused, “You wanna know?” close to my face and also near screaming, “Your husband was a fucking rat, sold out the club. Then to add insult to injury he knew who killed Tara all along. Only told me shortly before I ordered the hit on him. That’s why he was stabbed I mad it fucking easy on him it could’ve been a lot fucking worse on him sweetheart! And as far as our dear ol mommy, she is the stupid bitch that killed my wife because she doesn’t know to to listen! Keep fucking testing me though little sister.”
Stunned at what I just learned, I slap the shit out of my brother and full on scream “Who the fuck do you think you are? You can just do this and fucking get away with it? You piece of—”
I was cut off by Jax placing his hand on my mouth “could you keep it the fuck down?”
As he removes his hand, I glare at him and hiss “why so you could kill me too?”
Jax’s face seems to relax almost looking ashamed now, “No I don’t want to kill you. I know you had nothing to do with this, and I plan on bringing my sins to the club but for now, this stays between us. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just trying to make my pain go away, but it didn’t, with juice I figured it was cause I didn’t do it myself. But with Gemma as fucked up as she is, she’s still our mom..”
Jax runs a hand over his face and now I know who the real heartless killer was, it wasn’t happy it never was, it was always hidden as family. “That’s on you and god Jax. I font know if we could ever fix this now.” I gestured in-between us. He shook his head, with tears streaming down my face I walked out of the chapel, grabbed angel and asked.
“You still up for going for a drive? I cant be in here.”
Angel nods and we head out knowing full well I’ve have to face Jax tomorrow for moms service.
To be continued…
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The Kombat Krew Drunk;
What a time for me to be back. Shang Tsung is there, and he has a piece of gear called ‘Ermac in a bottle’. And now the song by Christina Aguilera is stuck in my head. Someone please illustrate Ermac in a bottle. I swear I will explain my absence/answer messages and asks tomorrow! But here, have some quick HC’s about the Krew as drunks. Which was requested. At some point!  Warnings; Mentions of Alchohol, swearing, a little NSFW so below cut just in case. Kano.  Ermac is NOT paired with the reader. Just wanted to add them in! So no pairing for Ermac. Sorry guys. 
·         Kabal; He’s a hot mess when drunk. Slurs his words a lot and sways a little. It can go one of two ways with him though. He’s either extremely happy, like every song is his jam and he loves everyone. Or, cocky and over confident, in which he will do some stupid shit. Like offer to arm wrestle Tremor. He’s fun either way! Sambuca messes him up though. Don’t let him drink the hot mess liquid.  He will pick you up, literally pick you up, sling you over his shoulder and be like ‘WE NEED TO DANCE Y/N this song is my jam. I know every song that’s been on has been. But this song, is my jam.’
·         Erron Black; He’s a very confident drunk. Very suave, very gentlemen like and always in control. This ain’t his first rodeo, he knows how to handle his alcohol and how to behave when intoxicated. His tongue becomes a little looser and he does soften up though. He becomes a little more cuddlier. Will have you in his lap and will be whispering sweet things in your ear, slowly become a little louder.
·         Ermac; ‘We do not wish to partake in this. We think it is for best’ Ermac can go either way... Why? Because ten thousand people all invited to a party in them. Literally. TEN THOUSAND FUCKING SOULS. A few parts of them, want them to do something stupid like paint themselves blue. Another part is like, ‘ ‘We need to go to sleep now, we need to drink some water, and pray we are not hung-over tomorrow’  Another part is just crying and being emotional, because they misses people they can’t even remember, spouses and pets they never remembered having. And another part, wants to give Kitana advice on her dating situation. So yeah. Mixed up drunk that can go in any direction. Kotal is just watching amazed, as they switch up from being happy, to sad, to energetic, to sleepy, in the space of a few seconds. Erron is confused as fuck to what in seven hells is going on.  
·         Hanzo Hasashi (Scorpion); Both Hanzo and his Scorpion side, cannot handle their spirits. Vodka will fuck him up. He becomes a lot more softer, open and more relaxed. He can semi-handle his alcohol. But sometimes, if the merriment is right, will over-do it. As mentioned, previously. Admits to liking being the little spoon. He’ll also laugh randomly at a joke he just remembered, then forget to tell it. Then laugh at it again. He’ll often just cuddle you, snore a little and then occasionally murmur in his sleep when you finally get him to bed.
·         Sub-Zero (Kuai Liang); He doesn’t drink often. One, because his body is a temple. Two, he likes to be in control. Three, he cannot handle his liquor very well. Bo-Rai-Cho once broke out a bottle of Wine, older than Sub, Bi-Han, Hanzo and Johnny combined, which fucked the Grandmaster up. He was tit over arse. He becomes a little more smiley and open. He’ll even, wait for this, hold your hand in public. Jesus Christ. What an unsightly and ungodly thing to do. But seriously, he just becomes a little softer and sweeter. His ears and tip of his nose also have a slight pink hue.
·         Baraka; When you decide to have a drink with him, your intentions was to never get him drunk. The Tarkatan can handle his booze very well… that is, until, you introduce him to alcopops. They taste like juice to him, so much so, he thinks he’s merely drinking juice… so after a crate and a half, he’s on his ARSE. He feels awfully weird, he’s never felt like this before. What is occurring? Why is there two of you? have the humans poisoned him? He admits to having a soft spot for humans at the mere thought of that. So, he knows they won’t have. He will go on to admit, that you are the reason for that soft spot.
·         Raiden; Can gods get drunk? No. But they do act a little bit looser. Not drunk merrier than anything else. Raiden will ask you everything and anything. Like, why do humans drink copious amounts at the weekend and not any other day? Why is Christmas called Christmas? Why are belly buttons weird? He wants to know everything, and his filter is gone. So, prepare for all the weird questions he’s kept hidden away.
·         Cassie Cage; She’s the type of person to think she’s been really quiet and sneaky coming home. When in fact, she woke you up before she got in the house. She is a really cute drunk to be fair. Will laugh at un-funny things, will make nachos at 2 in the morning, waking you up to ask if you want some. Will wash her and her clothes in the bath-tub, whilst wearing them, because that’s just a smart thing to do. You’re unsure how she got away with this when she lived with Sonya, but then realised, she didn’t and probably reserved going out till she was at her dads… because you know damn well, Johnny would find the funny side in it.
·         Kung Lao; Poor precious bean. He’s a bit of an awkward drunk. With the fact, he’s never been drunk before. You apologise and feel guilty but he’s swaying and being like it’s fine, it’s fine. This is fine. He just needs to eat. Not normal food no. He wants box cake mix and pop tarts. Not separate but together. You two are going on a drunk culinary adventure. He’s living his best life at the moment, not knowing how bad the hangover is going to get him tomorrow. Oh damn.
·         Bi-Han; Him getting drunk was an accident. He thought he could out-drink you, but then again, Pink Gin is the devil’s water. And now he is drunk. And he doesn’t know what to do. He’s not been drunk that many times before. He, like his brother, doesn’t like to drink a lot… but that doesn’t mean he cannot handle his liquor. Anyway, he downed the Devils water, drinking it as if it was juice. And now he’s falling over his words and his own feet.  He will use his powers indoors. There’re a few snowmen in the hall where you were drinking. He also suggests pranking his brother. He will pull you onto his lap, kiss your neck and start talking about the future. Apparently, you are either going to open a bakery, a bar or a café. In which you serve ice-cream. And the logo has a giraffe on it. You’re not sure what’s going on but it’s cute. He’ll laugh a little and admit that he loves you, more than he loves himself, which is unbelievable. Shooketh.
·         Kano; Pisses himself, runs into a mirror, headbutts a wall. Changes his name to Fucky McFuckface. Throws up. Puts six blow up dolls in the hot-tub, passes out on the lawn in front of his house. Pants half down, hairy arse half out. Mailman traumatised. Kano is worse than Bo-Rai-Cho when drunk.
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devnny · 5 years
Text
CHAPTER NINE.
JTRM — THE “R” STANDS FOR RECOVERING!
PREVIOUSLY.
this was too fun to write knowing what comes next, PLEASE ENJOY
Tenna leaned her cheek against her hand with a smile, swaying the leg that she had slung over her knee as she sat across the table from her unexpected guest. It was a mischievous, evil smile, Devi thought.
“So,” She tittered a little. “how’s your househusband?”
“Please, do NOT call him that.” Devi begged, eyes rolling firmly backwards in her skull.
Tenna continued her snickering.
“That what he is, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh come on.” Tenna scoffed, her mug scooting across the table as she extended her hands out. “How many times has he made dinner this week?”
“That has NOTHING to do with ANYTHING.” Devi pointed at her defensively. “He should be cooking for me – it’s not like he pays rent! That’s just him earning his keep.”
“Uh-huhhh…” Tenna nodded as if she was humoring the denials. Devi gurgled her irritation in the back of throat.
“But he is behaving himself, like a good little hubby might?”
“Tenna…” Devi gritted her molars, and Tenna belted out another set of laughs.
“WELL, IS HE?”
“YES, he is behaving fine. Like a dog might.” She answered, more comfortable comparing Johnny to a mostly-domesticated creature than even conceptualizing the joke of him being a spouse to anyone, especially her. Tenna bobbed her head along again. Devi settled back into her chair, hoping to relax.
“He’s been asleep all day.” She complained. “I want to wake his ass up so I can paint, because I can’t be blasting music in there if he’s sleeping on his desk, but he probably needs the rest. He supposedly hadn’t slept in ‘months’ before this.”
Tenna’s tongue poked out from behind her smile, followed by a sharp squeak from somewhere out of Devi’s line of sight.
“That’s so considerate of you, Devi—!”
“DO NOT even TRY to construe any decency I have as acts of kindness for him.” Devi cut her off with a squint.
Two more squeaks.
“Why are you so defensive about this? It’s okay to enjoy the company of your roommate.” Tenna teased again. Devi grumbled.
Tenna hadn’t let up on this topic since she found out that Johnny was officially moved into the apartment. At this point, laying on the couch aimlessly with a sleeping Johnny in the adjacent room was more appealing than sitting here and getting ridiculed for her wrongly-assumed-nice choices.
“Forget it. I’m going to go check—” Devi started as she stood, but cut herself off as her friend flittered another smile toward her.
“…go check on him.” She finished unhappily, then left before Tenna could mock her again.
--
TWO FLOORS ABOVE:
“No…!” Devi’s voice was waning, and he laughed.
“No, Johnny, no, don’t—”
Johnny dug the knife into her chest again, and felt a rush of satisfaction that she was helpless to stop him. He never held the control between the two of them, but this time she would be answering to him! She hardly even tried to push him away, only calling out with a voice that was growing softer with each gasp she worked to swallow.
She deserved this for being so rude to him! Awful woman – she had such biting words before, but now she had to reserve her fangs for biting back the blood that sputtered out past her lips. It made him laugh.
“Nny…” Devi croaked out.
He felt a sudden emptiness in his chest, and his arms chilled, startling him with the stark contrast of how hot his skin had felt just a moment ago, burning with the pleasure of revenge.
There was no pleasure in this.
She was dying.
--
Johnny’s body spasmed and he whacked his elbows against his desk as he awoke with a guttural gasp. He scrambled into a sitting position in his chair, slapping his palms on the surface of his drafting table like a scurrying animal. As he got his bearings, his head swiveled around frantically, until he was certain that he knew where he was – which was sitting in Devi’s art room.
A breath shuddered out of him through his panting, and he gulped as best he could past the dry lump in his throat.
Just another fucking dream. He had fallen asleep. GOD, he hated sleeping. The last thing he remembered was finishing the project that he had been working so madly on. He must have laid his head down on his desk afterwards and opened himself up to the horrors of his fervid mind.
He didn’t want to disclose it to Devi, but this was not the first dream he had about killing her since her intervention into his life. The first was the night after their tutoring sessions restarted, after their minor falling out due to him attacking her with a pen.
That week Johnny had cried his guts sore, then rode wave after wave of anxiety about meeting Devi again and attempting to apologize, then nearly combusted with joy that she actually forgave him. He must have burned himself out, he had figured, with the last of his drawing attempts the night following that, then had passed out when he got home.
Stupid emotions, so tiring.
He sneered and roughly rubbed his uneven hair, then turned his attention to his sketchbook that laid closed in front of him. He opened it to check his work, partly to distract himself from the lingering tendrils of his nightmare, and partly out of rampant curiosity of what the final result was.
His lower eyelid wiggled uncomfortably at the figure that greeted him.
DEVI? He had been drawing Devi this entire time?
Jeezus, how was he supposed to share this with her? He hadn’t meant to put a week’s worth of effort into a portrait of… her, but he had, and now he would need to hide it away to ensure she didn’t think he was a total creep and throw him out of her house on his ass.
Johnny pouted; it was the nicest thing he’d made in years, too. He really liked the lines, and how it was layered through multiple pages. He sighed and settled the cover closed again.
“So, you’re finally up, huh?” Devi stood in the doorway, previously obscured by the sketchbook he held up. Johnny screamed.
“AH—OH, UH, DEVI…!” He blathered, clutching the book close to his chest. Devi chuckled.
“It’s weird seeing you sleeping.” She commented as she walked the short way to his desk. “You snore a little bit, by the way.”
Johnny’s nose crinkled, unaware that he snored. Strange.
“I saw your little project.” She said, and his heart toppled into the hopeless abyss of his stomach. Devi laughed again at the terrified look on his face. She hated to admit that she felt more relaxed around Johnny than Tenna these days, but that could just be her pride talking.
“DEVI, I…” He gasped, then swallowed and tried again. “I-I promise, it’s, it’s really not as… uhm, intimate, as it seems—”
“Oh please don’t use that word for it.” Devi scoffed casually.
Johnny lowered nervously, partially hiding behind his sketchbook.
“Just promise me it’s not like, a testament to your undying love for me, and I won’t have to club you to death.” She teased, and Johnny’s eyes went wide in embarrassment.
“NO, NOT AT ALL.” He stood. “I just, I—I didn’t even realize this is what I was making until it… was done! Honest!”
Devi blinked at him skeptically.
“You… didn’t know what you were making?”
“Yes! It was like I was compelled to make that!”
She squinted at him with some suspicion.
“Do you think… Meat influenced you to create it, then?” She asked.
Johnny’s panic dissolved at the question.
“Oh…” His eyes wandered down to the sketchbook, but he was not worried about the idea of Meat’s interference with that. “No, I don’t think so.”
But with the mention of it, he was suddenly very suspicious that his parasite was the cause of his horrible dreams. He couldn’t understand what the Reverend would want as a result from tormenting him with bloody, anguished Devi’s, but Johnny was confident at least that the motive was part of the voice’s ‘plan’ for him. Against his better judgement, he kept those thoughts from Devi for the time being.
“What makes you so sure?” Devi crossed her arms loosely. “I mean, I guess it is creating, so the likelihood is low, but it’s still… me-related.”
Johnny shook his head and inched a ways closer to her.
“A lot of things right now are you-related.” He replied, almost a little smug, and Devi scoffed a smile again.
“Whatever.” She waved him off.
Devi returned to the living room, and Johnny trailed after her, stopping short when he saw her shrugging her jacket on. She had just wanted to paint today, but there was a more pressing issue on the agenda now.
“Hope you’re up for an outing,” She turned to him and gave him an annoyed look. “because we have to go to the store, seeing as you ate all my food.”
Johnny’s upper lip dropped low in surprise, then tightened back up into a guilty smile as he laced his hands behind his back. It was strange having so much food available to eat; he couldn’t recall his own cupboards and fridge ever having such variety. He had allowed himself to get a little carried away with his snacking while Devi was asleep – he still remembered, with some lingering pain, his whining and belly-aching after eating until he was far beyond full for the first time in maybe a year. Devi had shown little sympathy for him.
“Ah – of course!” Johnny shrugged happily, eager to sooth any irritation she had with him with dutiful agreements. Devi huffed a little and hitched her backpack securely onto her shoulders, then lead the pair out of the apartment.
--
AT A NEARBY GROCERY STORE:
Usually, Devi was content with shopping at convenience stores for her groceries, but the small-sized portions and limited selections at a 24/7 or a Grab n’ Go weren’t very good for restocking her entire food supply, so she begrudgingly parked her car in the lot of an actual grocery store. She and Johnny watched from the safety of Devi’s car as a mother wheeled a cart past them that was half full of food, and half full of wailing toddlers. Devi turned to give him a bitter expression, as if he had intentionally eaten her out of house and home and forced her to come here. Johnny offered a nervous smile as reply.
“At least it’s getting late?” He chuckled just as nervously. “So, maybe less screaming babies?”
Devi muttered her complaints under her breath and opened her door to get out, followed hurriedly by Johnny.
They walked briskly to the store’s front, with Devi ignoring all the annoying things she saw in the parking lot to the best of her ability, and with Johnny eyeing every unpleasant and rude act he saw with the shifting eyes of a predator. Neither of them enjoyed being among the masses even on a good day, but Johnny felt particularly on edge being near so many irritating things after such little recent exposure. If Devi wasn’t beside him, he was certain he would have snapped before even getting to the entrance.
He kept close to her side while she wheeled a shopping cart from aisle to aisle, and mused to himself how odd the action was. He never went to places where you’d even be offered the luxury of a shopping cart – not that he was ever buying enough things to require one, what with his meager funds and all. Devi dropped seemingly random things into it, and Johnny, rather than even attempt to suggest anything that he might want to eat too, only eyed the options that she chose inquisitively, settled in the idea that whatever she chose was all that would be available to him anyway.
Johnny had no complains about Devi’s taste in cereals or cheap instant food, and shortly found himself uninterested with their current errand. While Devi checked a carton of eggs for any broken shells, his eyes wandered around the length of the back aisle they were on, and a disruption on the opposite side of the store drew his attention.
When Devi turned back to ask him something, she was horrified to find him missing.
“JOHNNY!” She called out immediately, stricken with both concern and anger.
She got no response, and abandoned her cart to look for him, hoping that he was just a few rows away and got distracted by something shiny or sugary.
Two aisles, nothing.
Four aisles, nothing.
Devi’s anxiety rose the longer it took for her to find him, and after two failed sweeps of the store, it reached a fevered pitch. She had absolutely no concern for his safety, of course, but rather for the safety of every asshole in the proximity of the building. That thought spurred her to go check the parking lot, and she rushed to the front of the store again.
Her boots clanked on the sidewalk as she paced from one end of the parking lot to the other. It irritated a man soliciting near the entrance, but when he went to confront her about her annoying actions, Devi shoved him to the side and out of her way as she sped by. She opened her mouth to call for Johnny again, when a sickeningly damp, whacking sound hit her left ear, and she turned her focus to the alleyway that lead to the back of the grocery.
“Oh, no.” She winced. “Please, Christ.”
With all of her urgency to find him only seconds ago, the speed that she crept to the alley felt achingly slow. Devi hurried the last few steps, and whipped around the wall, convinced that Johnny is what she would see.
She wasn’t disappointed in that regard, at least.
Johnny stood some yards away with his back to her, his slender frame barely visible with the dark backdrop of the alleyway, but unmistakable to Devi. Some poor soul lay at his feet, and Johnny’s arm pulled back, revealing he was equipped with a pipe of some sort. Devi’s mouth hung open in dismay.
“JOHNNY C.” Her voice roared out of her, and Johnny’s body tensed instinctually.
His hand popped open like a talon, letting his weapon of opportunity fall to the badly maintained asphalt with a chorus of metallic clanking. He turned to look at Devi fearfully, and her stare only grew angrier from the clear view of the blood spatter that reached up to his elbows on both arms. Johnny’s face stretched uncomfortably as he forced an anxious smile onto it.
“D… DEVI.” He tried to laugh out. “I, UH… I can explain!”
One of his muddied hands swung back to gesture at the man laying beaten behind him. The man groaned incoherently, then went quiet again. Johnny grimaced, and jolted where he stood as Devi began to approach him with quickening speed.
“YOU—”
“NO, WAIT.” Johnny evaded her a moment by circling around her, suddenly worried about getting cornered just as he had his victim. His arms jutted out to the man on the floor again. “He was calling his girlfriend all sorts of degrading things! In public!”
“Johnny…!” She growled.
A bead of sweat slid down his temple.
“I swear I was going to let him live!” He insisted. “It wasn’t going to be a murder, just a little head bashing, that’s all!”
“OH, THAT’S “ALL”!?” Devi yelled at him, and slipped an arm free from the straps of her backpack. Both hands gripped the other strap, and she propelled it forward in an aggressive swing, tagging Johnny somewhere near his collar. The power behind the hit knocked him to the floor, and Devi stood over him with her knees bent to continue beating him with her bag.
“YOU IDIOT!” She hissed between swings. “I CAN’T TAKE YOU ANYWHERE!”
Johnny pleaded with her through fearful shrieks and all manner of breathless grunts from being struck, but nothing would stop Devi until her rage had run its course. All he could do was shield his face with his forearms until she decided his punishment was over.
At least her bag didn’t have much in it, from what he could feel. He was more concerned that she would abandon it in favor of her much more deadly clenched fists, or maybe the pipe that he had so mercilessly battered that jerk with, which was still laying nearby.
“Ugh!” Devi exclaimed with one final smack of her backpack on his chest.
She stepped over his form and readjusted her bag onto her shoulders, unconcerned about if the contents inside were broken or not. Johnny peeked an eye open at her from the ground, and watched her fix her frazzled hair a moment before scampering upright again. Devi scowled at him, and he replied with a sheepish smile, happy despite himself that she hadn’t cracked his skull open like an egg.
Devi’s nose crinkled, and she lowered her eyes down to his arms and hands, which still had patches of dirty blood on them. His fingers wiggled at his sides, as if in response to her staring, and she glowered.
This was not good. Even when she was right next to him, Johnny, the slippery little fucker, had absconded to commit some violent act – and she wasn’t sure she bought his claims that it wouldn’t have turned fatal, instead suspecting it only didn’t because of her timely appearance. Shit!
“What more do you expect me to do, Johnny?” Devi asked through bared teeth, and his smile dropped into an ashamed pout.
“I… uh, well, nothing.” He replied with a single scuff of his boot on the floor. He was more remorseful for upsetting her than he was for indulging in his desire for carnage, what with her doing so much to help him and all. She shouldn’t need to do anything more – it was just so difficult to control himself with bastards like that populating the city! Such hard choices…
“You need to clean up. You can’t go back into the store with blood all over you.” Devi snipped, and Johnny perked up, hopeful his answer would calm her.
“I’ll just wash off in the bathroom – no one ever notices the blood, anyway.”
“No, of course they wouldn’t.” Devi closed her eyes in annoyance. The universe just liked to hand Johnny free passes for getting away with dastardly deeds, didn’t it?
She started to walk out of the alley, and Johnny paid his latest victim a quick glance – he was still twitching, that was good! – before he followed Devi back into the store.
A myriad of low-spoken curse words ghosted past Devi’s lips as she waited for him outside the men’s bathroom door, and her bitter mood continued when Johnny popped back out to display his now-clean palms to her.
She was disappointed, again, and hated herself for getting comfortable, again. Why did she always fall into the same trap of overconfidence when it came to her ability to control this lunatic? Even with Johnny acting fairly normal and domestic with her at home, he was still like a volatile chemical, and mixing him with anything besides his routine could make him explode.
They returned to the cart that Devi had left near the dairy section, and she felt a tiny bit of relief that it was still sitting there untouched. After grabbing a couple more things, they went through a check stand, paid for their crap, and Devi glared at nothing, one bag in her arms, while Johnny gathered up the other two from the end of the counter.
Amongst her brooding, a blip of color in her peripheral caught her attention, and she looked to the woman that had been behind them in line. She was standing, talking cheerfully with the cashier, while her toddler daughter tried to rush over to the attractive, cheap toy and candy dispensers on the front wall. The poor thing couldn’t get far however, with her brilliantly colored monkey toddler harness and leash springing her backwards onto her butt every time she tried to charge ahead.
Devi blinked, her curiosity peaked, and she looked back up to the mother, who continued on with what she was doing, unbothered by her hyperactive child, unworried about having to watch her, with the pink handle of the leash held firmly in her hand reassuring her that her daughter was right where she expected her to be.
“What?” Johnny asked in regard to Devi’s thinking face.
“Hmm…” Devi looked off thoughtfully.
That might work.
--
NEXT.
95 notes · View notes
sugarkanemontgomery · 5 years
Text
Snapshot 10 pt.6:The Separation of Spouses
Been awhile ha. I’m trying to devote myself to finishing this before the summer is over, and I start pharmacy school. I’ve only posted two updates on fanfiction.net, but I realize this story started here, so it should finish here as well. Happy reading!
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Hey, I just wanted to call to say goodnight!
Penny bites the inside of her cheek, trying to tamp down on the forced cheerfulness. I know it's late, but I was hoping you were still up, she explains. Missed hearing your voice.
The last statement exits with a cringe as Penny taps the phone annoyedly at her cheek. Clingy much? She thinks.
Oh, hey! I'm sorry I forgot to call. The reply is breathy and ragged but devoid of Callie's patented sleepy rasp. I'm um…I lost track of time with Sofia and packing and everythin—
Penny interrupts forgivingly. Oh no, no Calliope, I-It's okay. You don't have to explain. I just wanted to say how much I can't wait for you both to be home. Penny pauses, tugging at the loose threads of the comforters and humming.
The apartment is so empty without you two. She settles on the statement with a laugh, hoping it doesn't sound as awkward as she feels. In response, Callie mutters an abrupt hold on. There are a few seconds of shuffling, muffled voices, and footsteps before Penny finally hears the tell-tale creak of a door closing shut.
We've missed you too. The words are clear, but Penny can't help but note the sound of cars in the background. Is Callie outside? At 12 in the morning?
I think New York is really starting to take its hold on us. Callie's laugh is too quick. Panicky. Sofia can't stop talking about seeing Maggie again either. And I never thought I'd actually miss Mcreary's annoying sex jokes, but I don't know, he's grown on me. Actually, now that I think about it, he's like an older, blonder version of Mark—
Are you outside? Penny can't help but ask, disrupting Callie's rambled reply.
Ah, yeah, I wanted some air. It gets stuffy in Arizona's apartment.
Penny furrowed her brow at the response but didn't know exactly what was wrong with it. Oh okay. So is Sofia asleep or are both of you still late night packing?
There was a delay before Callie answered. Sofia's having a playdate at Meredith's, so it's just me right now.
Really? Where's Arizona? Penny purses her lips trying to recall the muffled voices she'd heard earlier. She wasn't sure if it was a man or a woman, but it sounded like Callie was talking to someone. Maybe it was just the TV. Maybe it was Deluca.
Oh um, well yeah, Arizona's up, so I guess she counts. The laugh Callie releases is weird and strained. Penny's stomach clenches. But she's not helping me pack so I just, you know, excluded her.
What's she doing then?
Looking over some case files.
Hm…
Penny doesn't know what else to say, but she doesn't feel assuaged by the conversation. If anything, she feels slightly more on edge. Callie's being strange. Or maybe she's projecting because Penny herself is being strange. Maybe her jealousy is making her suspicious of things that aren't suspicious. So what Callie went outside to speak to her privately. There's nothing weird about that.
Hey babe, I was actually going to bed soon…
Penny takes the hint reluctantly. Well…okay. Call me when you make it to the airport! I love you!
I love you too.
-/-/-/-/-/
When Callie walks back into the apartment, she finds Arizona sitting on the living room couch, an unlit cigarette between her fingers.
As soon as the door shuts, the blonde jars, shoulders tensing as her wide eyes meet Callie's.
Those things kill you, you know… Callie says it because there's nothing else she can think to say.
I-I-I know you're mad. Arizona slurs, stumbling up from the couch in an uncoordinated heave. And I know you want to yell at me, but I-I really— I can't handle it right now. I'll cry. She sways unsteady on her feet as she moves toward Callie. The orthosurgeon focuses her gaze, noticing for the first time the shininess of Arizona's eyes and the wetness of her cheeks.
I know we kissed. I mean, I kissed you? The blonde's face contorts in thought. Or… you kissed me? She bites her lip, fiddling with the Marlboro like she's trying hard to concentrate on the previous events but just can't. After a moment, she shakes her head as if doing away with the confusing train of thought completely. What am I saying!? Who cares who kissed who! Arizona flings her arms out in exasperation which immediately disrupts her balance and sends her toppling forward. Fortunately, she's able to right herself before she tips completely over. Callie watches with reluctant amusement as the petite woman folds her arms across her chest in a flaccid attempt at seeming composed.
The orthosurgeon exhales, examining the other woman before settling on a response.
Where'd you even get a cigarette from?
Arizona reddens. I-I keep a pack just in case, and I know what you're going to say, she raises her voice as if to override any impending chide from Callie, But this is the first one I've had in a longgg, long time…Scout's honor.
She flashes Callie a three-fingered salute and a nervous smile. Besides…can't even find the damn lighter.
At this, Callie guffaws, walking into the living room and plopping onto the couch. She keeps laughing until she feels a weight settle beside her. When she turns she finds Arizona staring at her. Pale hands reach up to wipe at her cheeks, and Callie can't restrain the flinch. Is she crying?
I'm sorry the blonde says, continuing to wipe the tears. Her countenance is sad yet contemplative. I don't know why I'm like this. I'm happy you're with Penny. She states like she's trying the words out, seeing how they fit. After a moment, she smacks her lips distastefully. No, that feels like a lie…
Callie's body tenses beside her, but Arizona can feel the words bubbling up. Severe and unstoppable.
I think maybe I am the complete opposite of happy that you're with Penny. I think I feel Arizona pauses grasping for the right word for a minute before finally finding it angry…at you. I think I'm angry at you. And I know that's not fair and you have every right to live your life. But I'm just so mad. I'm mad that you found someone new and fell in love and flew to New York an-and moved on because I haven't. And I'm not. Arizona is no longer wiping tears. She's just cupping Callie's face and staring, and the taller woman gets the distinct feeling that the blonde is admitting something to herself for the first time.
I thought I was. I thought I was getting over it and learning to be myself again…without you…but I'm not. The only reason I'm even functioning is because of our phone calls. Before then, I was a wreck, you know. I didn't even want to get out of bed.
Callie doesn't say anything; she doesn't know what to say. So Arizona just keeps going, her gaze zipping around the room nervously.
And it makes sense that I threw myself at you and ruined the one thing keeping me sane. This is what I do. I self-destruct. Of course, I kissed you. I can't even stop thinking about you. I can't ever leave well enough alone!
She covers her face with her hands and folds into herself, and Callie can see the first waves of a sob rippling through her shoulders. Callie begins to reach out but thinks better of it. Her hands fold in her lap. She turns away.
I don't…feel that way anymore. I love you, and I've missed you. But I don't want…
She doesn't finish. There's a long empty silence where Arizona is looking at Callie, and Callie is looking away.
I'm not asking you to.
Good, don't. Tomorrow I'm going home, an-and I'm going to be happy with the woman I love.
Arizona just breathes, feeling suddenly sober. Okay.
And we shouldn't talk as much anymore.
Okay.
But that doesn't mean I'm…We're still friends, so don't worry. I'm not kicking you out of my life. We just need time apart right now
Okay.
So you can move on from me.
Okay.
Callie glances over her shoulder at her ex and finds a watery pair of blue eyes dull and staring. Okay? That's all?
What do you want me to say? I wish you would have yelled at me, so at least…at least I could argue. At least I could talk about how…I can't remember exactly who kissed who first, but at some point, we were both kissing each other—
Arizon—
But maybe I just found an opening. I don't know. She laughs a wet, sad laugh. Maybe I'm just desperate and manipulative. And you're just horny and lonely, and I imagined that this was even a possibility.
Callie just runs her fingers through her hair and remains silent.
Okay, then. I'm going to bed. Arizona finally says, standing up and sparing one last glance at her ex. Goodnight, I guess.
Night.
-----
Day 104.
Arizona wakes up to an energetic Sofia flopped out on top of her like a child-sized starfish.
Mama! Mama! Wake up! A tiny finger “softly” jabs into her ear.
Fia… Callie’s warning come from just outside the doorway.
Arizona cracks open her eyes and groans at the sudden light and sounds. Off, Sofia she wiggles side to side, and the little girl tumbles over onto the bed beside her.  
Mommy says we gotta go to the airport, and we can’t leave without you. I told her we should just stay, but she won’t listen.
Arizona doesn’t even have to look to know Sofia is pouting.
I—I thought about letting you sleep in, but I know you’d want to take us, so…
Arizona turns over to see her ex-wife standing just outside of the room like there’s a forcefield keeping her out. It’s a small thing, but it’s enough to remind her that last night really did happen. She groans again, but this time for a different reason.
You’re right. Thanks, Calliope. Can you give me a few minutes to get dressed?
Callie nods relievedly before mincing away to the living room. Sofia stays lying on the bed watching her mom hustle to get dressed.
Don’t you want us to stay, Mama? she asks after a moment.
Arizona pauses in her search for a clean tee-shirt before looking at her daughter. The girl is propped up on her elbows, a deep frown contorting her mouth. Arizona pushes all the emotions she’s feeling into the best words she can think of on such short notice.
Of course, I do, Baby. Always! I’d sew you both to my hip if I could.
-/-/-/
Callie, Sofia, and Arizona arrive at the airport at exactly 10:35 AM. Sofia has one small suitcase and a bookbag while her mother has one large suitcase and a carry-on. Her other mother has no luggage at all, so instead chooses to hold Sofia’s hand as they walk—well, jog actually—to their boarding gate. The flight boards at 10:45 AM, and the morning had gone faster than anticipated. Arizona does her best to keep up with Callie’s long strides despite the hangover headache pulling at her temples. She moves her shades up momentarily, so she can see her ex-wife in full color. Her dark hair pulled into a loose pony. Her slender neck sweaty from rushing across the moving walkway. Her tan skin glistening in the yellow light streaming from the tall airport windows.
She hasn’t more than glanced at Arizona this morning, probably thankful for the distraction of traveling. Probably thankful that they won’t see each other for awhile.
Even so, Arizona can’t stop looking at her.
When they arrive at the gate at 10:50 AM, Sofia cries. Sniffles at first and then full-blown sobs.
Mommy, we can’t leave Mama. We can’t leave. She drops her suitcase in a mild sort of tantrum, and Callie looks at Arizona, surprised. Lost.
Baby, you know we have to go back. Don’t y—don’t you want to see Maggie? Don’t you want to tell Penny about your trip?
Sofia glares at her mother, shocking both women, before running hard into Arizona’s arms.
No, she defies
Arizona strokes her little girl’s head, pushing back tears of her own. Please don’t cry, Sweetie. Please don’t.
Callie stays away, fiddling with the seams of her pockets and feeling incredibly useless. Arizona throws her a consoling look.
You know I will see you again as soon as I can, right? She leans down and whispers into her daughter’s hair.
When Sofia doesn’t answer, she asks again. Right?
All she gets is a slight nod.
And you know Mama and I love you, and we only try to do what’s best for you, right?
Another nod.
Then, you should know we’re just trying to do what’s best for you right now. You’ll be back here before you know it, and you’ll have so many more stories to tell me and Zola and all your friends.
Sofia doesn’t respond, but Arizona can tell by the way her grip loosens that her fight is waning. Arizona looks up to see Callie watching on, miserably. They meet eyes and hold what can only be described as a quiet conversation. After a moment, it must become too much because Callie turns away to face the boarding gate. Arizona sighs, swallowing a budding resentment.
Calliope. She calls out softly.
Callie looks over her shoulder to see Arizona’s arms stretched out wide. I think there’s room for one more.
Almost as if pulled by a magnet, Callie glides over into her ex’s embrace. It’s warm and strong and as familiar as always. There’s a simultaneous hiccup in both of their chests when Arizona turns her head and presses her mouth lightly against Callie’s ear.
I love you, and I want you to be happy. That hasn’t changed.
A sob muffles in Callie’s throat as she snuggles deeper into the solace of her wife—her ex-wife. The guilt is so heavy she feels like she’s sinking, and Arizona is the only raft willing to keep her afloat.
After a few lingering moments by the gate, a voice comes on the speakers, calling all remaining passengers to board. The calm is gone. Arizona detangles herself from her family, smiling wearily before waving them off.
Don’t forget to text me when you land.
 -------
Day 105.
I hope your day back was good!
As soon as Arizona sends the text she locks her phone and shoves it into her back pocket.
Okay, done! Are you happy now? April gapes at her friend.
Wow, you really…wow.
W—What do you mean “wow”? Why are you “wow”ing? You told me to text her!
Well, I…didn’t think you would actually do it. April takes a swig from her wine cooler. Technically, they’re celebrating her move into a new apartment with Jackson. But at some point, it also became a pity party for Arizona’s “break-up” with Callie if you could even call it that.
Then why would you tell me—Oh my god. Now, I’m going to look desperate. Am I going to look desperate?
Well, aren’t you?
Jeez, April!
What did you even send her?
Arizona repeats her message to April. Shrugging even though her anxiety is building. The message is innocuous enough, right? …Right? The redhead’s grimace says otherwise.
That’s a…good text. Casual.
Then why are you looking like that? April schools her features into forced indifference.
Looking like what?
Arizona throws up her hands in exasperation before pouring herself a glass of wine. You know what? Forget it. Forget Callie. I’m hot. I’m...I’m sexy. People like me. Tons of people.
April raises her wine cooler in agreement. Damn straight. They’re lining up—
And anyway, I’m happy for Callie. I’m happy for her new job and her new friends and her new relationship with a freakin’ resident who can’t even give her an orga—
Her phone interrupts her with a buzz, and Arizona whips it out so quickly she almost spills her wine. April looks on in anticipation.
Thanks. I hope you’re doing well.
She reads the message outloud, squinting at it like maybe there’s some hidden meaning between the letters.
Thanks, I hope you’re doing well? April repeats slowly, trying out the words. That’s all?
Arizona reads it again. Yeah, that’s all.
 -------
Day 109.
It takes Callie five days to realize she’s probably not going to tell Penny about the kiss. She thinks about it though…she really does.
Every night when Penny curls into her arms, she remembers Arizona’s hands palming the back of her neck.
Every day when they’re in the car scoping out better apartments, she remembers Arizona’s tongue stroking the top of her mouth.
Every time they kiss or make love or even look at each other, it’s on Callie’s mind.  (And what’s worse is that the sex is better, better than it’s been in awhile not that Callie would ever allow herself to make the obvious correlation).
Today, it’s a rare weekend when they’re both off at the same time, and Callie thinks this may be the perfect window to tell her.
Penny, can we talk? She pulls the woman out of the living room (where she’s playing some card game with Sofia) and into the bedroom.
What’s up? Penny bites the skin at the tip of her thumb, a nervous habit.
Nothing…I mean… And in that moment, Callie considers saying so many things.
I kissed my ex-wife a few days ago.
I knew what was happening, and I didn’t stop it.  
I’m so, so sorry.
But instead, the only thing that comes out is You look beautiful today and We should take Sof to the beach.
-/-/-/
They spend the day on Coney Island. The inevitable fallout hovering like a tidal wave.
 --------
Day 114.
Penny is on cloud nine or maybe even somewhere above it. Callie’s been more present than she’s ever been, and the non-Sofia related phone calls have all but ceased. She doesn’t know what happened during Callie’s visit to Seattle, and the brunette never seems that eager to go into it.
They must have fought, she thinks, and is strangely delighted by that. Sure, there are times when Callie looks miserable. When Sofia mentions Arizona and Callie just sort of stalls like an old car, but they are few and far in between. And Penny is sure they will go away eventually.
She’s just really happy with the way things are, and she knows Callie is, too. Callie will be, too.
-------
Day 116.
Somewhere in a Seattle operating room, Arizona watches the light drain from a newborn’s eyes. She presses two fingers against his chest and pushes for what feels like thirty minutes. The dull hum of the heart monitor mocks her from the corner. And she isn’t looking, but she can almost feel the sad gazes of the surgical nurses bearing down. She pulls herself away finally, sweat sticking to her neck and her forehead. She doesn’t want to stop, but it’s helpless.
Time of death 9:24 PM.
-/-/-/
A few hours later, Arizona thinks about calling April or Alex or Richard. She even considers having a heart to heart with Deluca (though he was passed out on the couch when she got home, his left hand wedged into a bag of Doritos so maybe he isn’t the best choice). She scrolls through her contacts, searching, but after surveying her options, she realizes there is only one person she really wants talk to. Her thumb hovers precariously over the contact.
-/-/-/
I watched a baby die today which considering my job, I should be used to. But I’m not. I’m scared I never will be.
His parents are so young. They look like us when we were that young. So afraid and out of their depth.
They brought me the most precious little boy and begged me to save his life, trusted me to save his life. And I failed them.
I know we aren’t really talking anymore because of everything that happened, but…I miss you. Like crazy. All the time. And I’m going to go out on a limb and say that maybe you miss me too. And what we have is too precious to throw away over one night. Over one stupid, drunk mistake. I meant what I said at the airport. I know you said you wanted to it time, but it’s been long enough for me. l really just want my friend back.
-/-/-/
Somewhere in New York, Callie coming out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her hair and another wrapped around her chest. She sees Penny lying up in bed, highlighting certain passages in a medical journal. Callie’s cell is lying on the bed beside her.
Hey, did my phone ding? Thought I heard something.
No. Penny glances up from her notes. Are you coming to bed soon, Babe? I’m getting tired.
Yeah, Callie comes over to pick up her phone, only to see a few article alerts. Let me comb through my hair and change. Shouldn’t take long.
-/-/-/
Hey Arizona, I’m sorry that happened, but I think it’s for the best we don’t talk anymore unless Sofia is involved. Please don’t respond to this message; I don’t feel like arguing, and at this point, the back-and-forth is just getting sad. I want to move on with my life. Please let me.
Arizona reads the message again and again. She feels the air being vacuumed from her lungs. Her stomach floating up and plummeting down all at once. She covers her eyes with her arm and tries to suppress the feeling that’s threatening to overwhelm her.
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goodnightkisseu · 5 years
Text
Park Jihoon & Park Woojin - Dynasty
Requested By: anonny​ (“ Can I ask for woojin friendship with jihoon scenario? Triangle love story angst but happy ending? Royal au will be great 😘 thank you ”)
Genre: Fluff and some Angst
Note: Admittedly, this fic took me a bit longer because I was having a hard time trying to figure out what type of friendship/love triangle I wanted to depict. I’ve written this one probably about ten times, and this was what I landed on. I wanted to explore a close type of friendship with Jihoon and Woojin, and I hope that it came across in this fic. It’s also a really long one (5k+ words) so you’ll probably want to set aside some time for it if you plane to read it x.x I hope that everyone enjoys it and as always, feel free to let me know what you think!
Enjoy~
Because of the situation with tumblr links, please check my bio for links to my masterlist~
- goodnightkisseu’s admin / ashley <3
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The beautiful fields, lush and full of flowers and crops. The clear rivers and streams that ran through the country. Farmers worked hard to harvest their crops, while children played on the paths. This image was the embodiment of peace and prosperity. Yet about five decades ago, this beautiful land was war-torn. There was no order, no peace. It was filled with small clans, each vying for dominance, to be the ruler of the land. The land was scorched from the battles that broke out. The people were starved, forcing clans to form alliances to create larger factions to strengthen their cause. These factions built their own cities, the battlefield becoming any area without safe walls. Yet, resources continued to dwindle, and the people still suffered.
Realizing that the lives of their own were at risk, the four kingdoms, born from these endless pacts, called a truce. They advocated ending the war, for peace so that the nations could prosper. It wasn’t accomplished immediately, but once everyone laid down their arms, an order came to the people. They thrived in their kingdoms through trade, farming, and crafts. The land bloomed, becoming the beautiful place that it once was.
Now that each kingdom had its own system for its people, there was a growing interest to unify the nations. Not by way of merging the domains, but by pairing off their heirs. By marrying off their children to each other, the Kingdoms could sustain the peace between their nations. Thus, each royal descendent had started meeting with potential royal spouses, whether they were from a direct royal line or an adjacent one.
Woojin was not a child of royal birth. Rather, his family served as the personal guards to the royal family of the south for many generations. No, it was his friend, his charge, Jihoon that was to be married. Yet, if Woojin were honest, none of this sat well with him. He understood uniting the kingdoms through a marriage pact, but it just didn’t seem like a sure fire way to ensure peace. Woojin was involved in strategy meetings, and he was always one of the first to hear the new intel that came in. And this intel made him wary of some of the families. Particularly the princess that would be visiting today.
The sound of the large doors to the lecture hall opening pulled Woojin from thoughts that had plagued him for the last week. The familiar face of the young prince emerged from behind the large wooden doors, all those in the area bowed to those their respects. Woojin did the same as Jihoon descended the stairs, his guard close to his side. Seldom were the pair ever seen apart. Woojin had been raised side by side with Jihoon. It was to ensure that Woojin would understand everything about Jihoon, in hopes that he could protect the young descendent more effectively.
"Young Prince, you will be meeting with an eligible princess today, won't you?" Woojin inquired as the pair continued on their usual walk after Jihoon’s morning lessons.
Like every other day, this led the pair to the pagoda on the east side of the palace grounds.  It was Jihoon’s favorite spot. Just far enough away from his family that he could be by himself, and the only place where Woojin was the only one who dared to follow him. Now that he was away from the watchful eyes of the scholars and palace attendants, he couldn’t help but make a face. "Woojin, how many times have I told you to call me by my name when we're alone? It's strange to hear you address me as the 'Young Prince' when there's no one else around," Jihoon instructed him, putting emphasis on his title in a mocking manner.
Woojin let out a small sigh as he relaxed in the presence of his long-time friend. When they were younger, Woojin always felt strange calling Jihoon by his official title, and the two young boys would often joke about it. Now, he felt the opposite. His family had instructed him to refer to Jihoon by his official title, no matter the situation. So, it now felt odd to be so informal and just use his name. Still, Jihoon was a close friend, and when it was only the two of them, Woojin felt like he could be a bit more lax, though not too much. “It’s equally as weird to call you, ‘Jihoon’ now.”
Jihoon begrudgingly nodded in understanding. "Try, please? When it's just the two of us, be my friend and not my personal guard. It makes me feel like no one sees me for me. I'm just the prince who needs to be protected."
"I'm both your personal guard and your friend, Jihoon. You know that."
"I know. It's just that, sometimes I feel like I'm surrounded by people that are only trying to make me happy. They don't actually care about me…” he said with a soft sigh, and though Woojin didn’t fully understand what Jihoon was going through, he did understand it to a degree. Jihoon didn’t have any siblings, not ones that were born from the same mother. He was the first and currently the only boy in the family. It had only been Jihoon and Woojin for so many years. Now that they were usually around each other in an official capacity, his friend was getting lonely. Unfortunately, Woojin couldn't do anything about it directly, and that was sad.
Woojin gave a small nod. “I’ll do my best. But my question still stands. You meet one of your possible wives today, correct?” For a split second, a pout had formed on Jihoon's lips. However, knowing that such a look wasn't befitting of a prince and future king when talking about court matters, he quickly wiped it away. Still, Woojin knew he was displeased that the topic had changed too fast.
"Yes. She's from the Kingdom of the East. From what I'm told she's the family's only unmarried daughter. The others are either too young or have already been married off. Last I heard her convoy was making its way here, so she should be arriving within the day."
"Have you met her before?" Woojin inquired. He knew that Jihoon had never been to the Eastern Kingdom before, but there was a chance that his future wife had made an appearance at a banquet thrown by his family.
Jihoon however, shook his head. "No, I haven't. Her family has, on occasion, come to the festivities thrown by my father, but she had not been at one. I've questioned the King of the East about it before, but all he told me was that it wasn't time to meet his daughter yet.  I have no idea what that means though. He was pretty cryptic about it… Makes you wonder…"
It was as Woojin had feared, and his friend's answer did not sit well with him. Everyone, particularly those of power wanted to show off what they had. Wouldn’t a king want to show off his daughter, to be able to marry her off sooner? So, what was it about this girl… this princess… that her father was hiding her from all of the other royal families? "I see..." he said quietly in response, nodding pensively. There was no point in voicing his suspicions yet.
"You already sound suspicious of her," Jihoon said with a chuckle, catching on to what his old friend was thinking immediately. They had been together for far too long. It would have been strange if Jihoon didn’t notice.
Woojin, however, tried to play it off. "I'll withhold my judgment until we actually meet her. Anyway, we should head back. Your next lesson starts soon," the male insisted. And with little struggle from Jihoon, he got up and led the way.
It was a little past lunchtime when Woojin was notified by an aide that the princess had arrived. Jihoon was still in the middle of his afternoon lessons, so Woojin informed her that he would make sure that the prince was made aware when he was done. The young female aide said that the princess had taken a liking to the prince's garden, and could be found there before she left.  
Not long after the aide had left, Jihoon's lessons came to an end. Woojin informed him of the princess' arrival as the pair made their way to the nearby garden. Woojin knew that Jihoon was fond of this place. Though the prince didn’t have much of a green thumb, he had learned what he could to keep it healthy. His mother had put it together for him, and it was his way of showing his thanks to her. Over the years it had grown, with gifts from other kingdoms and plants that he had become fond of. When the pair weren’t out in the pagoda, they were usually here.
The moment the garden came into view, it didn't take the two men long to spot the princess. She was wandering around the far side of the garden, the area where some of Jihoon’s favorite plants were located. Woojin stayed close as Jihoon approached her, and nothing seemed off… initially. But he couldn't help but wonder, just where her personal guard was? There was no way her family would allow her to travel here with only the escorts that arrived with her.
"You must be the princess from the East, yes?" Woojin heard Jihoon inquire, and this snapped him from his thoughts and back to what was actually happening in front of him. He watched as the princess stiffened, but didn’t necessarily jump at their sudden presence. Instead, you turned around to smile at Jihoon and at Woojin, while introducing yourself before inquiring if Jihoon was the crowned prince.
Woojin watched your exchanges with each other very carefully. Yet, as he monitored his friend's expression, he knew that Jihoon was already smitten with you. Behind his cool features, Woojin could tell that his eyes lit up, that he was particularly attentive to everything you said. Jihoon was not one to fall in love quickly. It had only happened once in the past, and it was this exact same look. And the fact that he was already enthralled by you, just made Woojin's worries skyrocket. He would hold his judgment until he knew more about you, but he worried what would happen if you were not as kind or truthful as his friend was hoping.
"A princess should not be without her guard. Where is your personal guard?" Woojin heard the prince inquire, to which you giggled in response.
"I have one," you said through your light laughter. "Minho is right behind you."
At your words, Woojin was the first to quickly turn, coming face to face with the stoic male that stood behind him. He almost drew his sword on him, but at Jihoon's signal Woojin refrained from doing so.
"I'm sorry if that startled you. I usually instruct for my personal guard to follow at a distance when I want to enjoy things on my own. Not that Minho makes for bad company, but his presence can be overbearing sometimes..."
"I know exactly what you mean! Woojin is the same way! I can’t get him to leave my side for a minute! How did you get Minho to do that?" Jihoon asked out of curiosity as he approached you. Woojin, on instinct, was about to follow after him, because truthfully, Jihoon was right. He really couldn’t get the male to leave his side. But before he could, your personal guard placed his hand on Woojin’s shoulder.
"Why don't you and I let the two of them get acquainted? Let us watch from afar for a bit," the male suggested, and though it was against Woojin's better judgment, he agreed, taking a step back and walking with Minho as you walked side by side with his prince. It was weird being this far away from him, but maybe it was something he would have to get used to…
Your stay at the palace lasted for a bit longer than expected. Woojin could see the connection that you and Jihoon had, as could his parents, so they suggested that you extend your stay, giving the two of you more time together. Of course, the male had no say in it, and so he spent his days, following the pair of you at a distance, next to Minho. The two of them would spark up a conversation from time to time, but it was just small talk to break the silence every now and then.
The one thing that Woojin was well aware of was how happy Jihoon was now. Whenever he would walk his charge back to his room, he could see the spring in his step, the excitement in his voice. And though Woojin wanted to be excited for Jihoon as well, he had to be the level-headed one. He was still suspicious of your family, so without Jihoon knowing, he reached out to some of the palace's undercover informants.
From what he could gather, no one had anything wrong to say about you. However, your family was not getting the same glowing recommendations. Your father was a just king. He ruled the kingdom, and the people liked him well enough. However, his family was a bit of a struggle. His brother, your uncle, craved power, and though it wasn't spoken of, the chances of your father being overthrown were high. Woojin’s worries about this marriage started to grow. Did your father know that his brother was trying to oust him? If he did, was he marrying you off as a way to fend off the attack? Or worse yet, was marrying you off part of your uncle’s plan, so that he could indirectly control the Southern Kingdom as well? Woojin didn’t want to think the worst of you, but he had to remain aware of all of the possible plots.
Keeping all of this to himself was difficult, mostly when Jihoon could read him like an open book. It didn't take the prince long to realize that something was up with his personal guard. And it took him even less time to ask what that something was. Saying that he was a bit upset would have been an understatement.
"Woojin, you had no right to look into that," Jihoon said, his tone low. The two friends were at the pagoda, away from all of the others.
"Jihoon, as your guard, having your best interests at heart, I had every right to look into this. You’re too defensive about this. I didn’t say that she was here because of what was going on in her family," he countered, defending himself. He was protecting Jihoon. That’s all he had ever done.
"But you've already made up your mind about her, haven't you. This was the bit of information that sealed the deal, isn't it? Woojin, I like her, a lot. How do you think it makes me feel that my personal guard, no, my friend suspects my possible wife of doing this for sinister reasons?" he questioned, voice getting angrier as he spoke.
Woojin knew that his friend would be hard to deal with. He wanted to be level-headed, but he was upset too. Jihoon wasn't looking at the bigger picture. He wasn't thinking of himself. You may have been precious to him, but he needed to think of what this really meant… and he wasn’t. "She’s not your wife yet, and frankly, we need all of the facts. What if she is using you? Then what will you do?"
"You… hold your tongue, Woojin," he said through gritted teeth. "She would never."
"But you don't know that for sure, do you," Woojin spat back, and as he stared down his friend, instead of taking it any further, Jihoon stormed off. It was rare that they argued like this, but Woojin knew that this time was the worst by far. But he didn’t regret it. Jihoon needed to be more aware. It didn’t matter how he felt about you. He needed to be vigilant. Woojin was willing to take the brunt of the blame, even if it hurt that his friend wasn't talking to him...
========
The months following the argument had been rough on Woojin and Jihoon's relationship. Though no one in the palace seemed to realize it, their relationship was definitely strained. The trust was broken, and the pair was not as close as they were before. Truthfully, Woojin was taking it pretty hard. Jihoon being so closed off from him, even stopping their usual walks, was a hit that he hadn't been anticipating. He knew that this spoke to how upset his friend was. It was Jihoon's way of telling him that he had overstepped.
Today was another quiet carriage ride, in which Woojin was accompanying JIhoon to see you. Your visits with each other had grown in number, with both families excited about the budding romance between their heirs. These trips had become commonplace, and if he were to be completely honest, the more he had learned about you, the more that he had grown to like you. If not for the political tension in your kingdom, he would have wholeheartedly given his blessing by now. You were a just person by nature. Your heart was kind, and you spent a lot of your time helping your people, something those of your social standing didn't usually do. The people knew you, spoke highly of you, and truthfully, Woojin almost thought that the rumors of your uncle's coup were false.
That was until everything went downhill.
One late night, during their recent stay at your palace, Woojin heard a gentle, but rapid knock on the screen door that led to their quarters. Woojin was quick to get to his feet, sword at the ready in case combat was necessary. Yet, upon tentatively opening the screen door, his eyes met with Minho's. Though perplexed at first, Woojin was able to read the grave look on Minho's features, and a feeling deep down started to manifest. "Minho, it's late. Why are you here?"
"I don't have a lot of time to explain. I need you to trust me when I tell you that you must get the Prince out of here. I've arranged for one of our most trusted men to meet you in the back of this building. He will lead you to the safety of your carriage. Please make sure that he gets out of here safely," the male said in a hushed voice. That feeling in the pit of Woojin's stomach got worse. Minho was calm, but his eyes said it all. They were laced with concern, even possibly... fright.
"Minho, you must tell me what is going on," Woojin stated firmly, the male before him letting out a sigh. He knew that there wasn't much time, but he had to ask. He had to know what to do if Jihoon did end up in danger.
"The Princess' uncle has finally made a move for his takeover. I know that you are aware of it. The tension had reached a level that can no longer be contained. When the first group of insurgents broke in, the King and Queen instructed me to make sure that the two of you left safely. I was then to help the Princess. Please, there is no time left. Trust me and get Crowned Prince Jihoon out of here," he pleaded before turning his back and leaving, heading towards his charge's quarters.
The urgency was quick to wash over Woojin once your personal guard left. He sprang into action, quickly pulling on his things, knowing exactly how dangerous this situation was. If your uncle were devious enough, Jihoon could become a fantastic bargaining chip, and no one wanted that. After he had all of the necessities, he quickly, but quietly made his way to Jihoon, trying to rouse him from his sleep. Unsurprisingly, the Prince did not have it. “Jihoon, you have to get up,” Woojin pressed, voice stern.
"Woojin, I don't know what's up with you, but I know that it's late. Leave me alone, you hear? I don't want to talk right now," he retorted. Jihoon was ready to say more, he was prepared to give Woojin a piece of his might. At least, that was, until he saw the look in Woojin's eyes. They were no longer the calm ones that would often watch him, making sure that he was alright. No, they held a sense of gravity, of worry, and Jihoon was quick to swallow his previous words. "Woojin –"
"We don't have time. Let us talk about it once you're safe. Now please, get up and get changed. We need to leave immediately," came Woojin's instructions. And like that, Jihoon was out of bed and dressed in record time, ready to further follow instructions on their exit. Woojin led the way, being cautious with his choice of a path out to the back of the guest quarters. However, when the pair made it outside, the guard was quick to recognize them. Saying very little, he escorted the two men to their carriage. It wasn't until they were in the transport and heading out that Jihoon finally spoke up.
"Woojin, what happened?" he asked. And now that they were safe, on their way home, the Prince's guard finally divulged all that he knew...
========
Weeks turned into months. The seasons came and went, and in all of that time, Jihoon heard nothing about you. At first, it had been hard to come by any information. The coup had significantly disrupted the Southern Kingdom's intelligence network, and accurate details were hard to come by. With time, however, more precise information came to light. Your father and mother had been killed when the throne was usurped. Your uncle was now in the process of rebuilding the Eastern Kingdom in the way that he saw fit. No one was going to challenge him, at least not yet. But nowhere, in any of these reports, was any mention of you. At most, they said that you couldn't be found, and the hope was that Minho had gotten you to safety.
Initially, Jihoon had been headstrong about finding you. He called for his father to send out search parties. He had made attempts in the middle of the night to sneak out and look for you on his own. Yet every plan of his had been foiled by Woojin. His long-time friend, though he knew he was getting in the way again, had stopped very hasty decision. He begged that Jihoon be strategic about this. No matter how much his heart told him that you were still alive, Woojin urged that he be tactical to not cause more trouble to you and his family. And finally, Jihoon agreed.
The pair worked in secret, away from the prying eyes of Jihoon's parents and the rest of the court. A network of trusted informants was formed, and Jihoon used the excuse that he was grieving to hold off his parents' search for a new bride for him. When they could, they would sneak into the town to speak with traveling merchants or even wanderers that may have come from your kingdom. The worked tirelessly for new information, yet as time passed, Jihoon could feel his confidence waning. Though in his heart of hearts he knew that you were alive, there was no sure sign that this feeling was correct.
The longer he searched for you, the more apologetic he felt towards Woojin. Their relationship had been on the mend for some time, and the young prince was now feeling terrible for the way he had treated his friend. Woojin took all of the bad though. He knew that Jihoon's heart was in pain, and he knew that the only way to fix it was to find you.
One early autumn day, Woojin was out in the city, without Jihoon. His friend his extended lessons that were to preoccupy him for the entire day, so Woojin took the opportunity to head out to the city on his own, see what intel he could gather when he didn't have to worry about Jihoon being discovered. He had heard of a large group of traveling merchants stopping in the capital and thought that they may have some info. Of course, he couldn't go around asking about the Princess of the East, but he could ask if any recent traders had joined the group. That wasn't suspicious at all.
Slowly he glanced at the products that the traders had available, chatting with one from time to time to see what bits of information he could get. They had gone through the cities of the Eastern Kingdom, picking up some new members along the way. So there was a chance they had seen you. He would just have to do more digging.
But this was when something strange happened. As Woojin was weaving through the sea of sellers and buyers, he felt something. It was weird. It was a feeling he had never felt before. He felt a presence. It was as if someone had spotted him, and on impulse, he turned around. There was no one staring back at him, but his eyes did land on someone else, just in his line of sight. He knew exactly who it was. That familiar face, those gentle eyes. Time had changed some things, of course, but there was no mistaking it. You were standing right in front of him, and he knew he had to act.
Calmly, Woojin approached you as you talked to a store owner about the beautiful fabrics that he had on display. You asked about methods, and where he got his source materials. The chat was lively, civil, and you were so drawn into the elderly man's well-crafted words that you almost didn't feel the light tap on your shoulder. Swiftly you turned around, thinking that it would be Minho staring back at you, but coming face-to-face with Woojin was not what you had been expecting.
After you fled your Kingdom, you and Minho made your living among the traveling merchant party that moved from city to city. They took many people in, from nomads to those that had been disowned. All they asked was that newcomers helped to grow the business. It was hard for you at first. You didn't have many skills except for weaving, and that became particularly useful. In time you forgot about where you had come from. You and Minho took on new identities, completely forgetting about your past lives. That was until you saw Woojin again. It all came rushing back, and out of fear, you opted to act ignorant to it.
"Can I help you?" you asked with a small smile, feigning innocence.
“Jihoon was right. You really didn’t die…” Woojin said, astonished by your sudden appearance.
"I'm sorry. I think that you may have the wrong person. I don't know a 'Jihoon,'" you insisted, hoping that you could shake Woojin off. Yet the mention of Jihoon's name caused a sharp pain in your heart. There had been days where all you could think of was the Prince. Though you knew that you no longer had a place in his life, no longer having any power or wealth, you thought of him often. At least, until it became easier to forget him.
Quick footsteps approached you as someone worked his way in between you and Woojin. "Young miss, is this man bothering you?" Minho asked, though his stern look faltered when he noticed Woojin.
Though Woojin had considered pursuing the pair, to make them give up the charade, he knew better than anyone that there may have been a reason they were acting like this. Still, he had to leave an open offer. On the off chance that you had lingering feelings for Jihoon, he had to try and bring the two of you together.
"If there's a reason why you want to pretend here, then that's fine. However, if you would like to see Jihoon again, please meet me by the castle's eastern entrance this evening. It leads directly to the pagoda, and no one will find you there. Jihoon... he misses you dearly," Woojin said quietly, before disappearing and leaving the princess and her guard dumbfounded.
Many things were running through your mind after that chance meeting with Woojin. You had considered that this was a ploy, to get you out of hiding, but you also felt like you could trust him. Minho tried to talk you out of it, but against your better judgment, you showed up at the east entrance that evening. With Minho in tow, the pair of you approached cautiously, and you couldn't help the growing anxiety that overcame your every being. Yet, true to his word, Woojin was there to meet you, letting you into a place you hadn't been in years.
As always, the pagoda was void of people, just the three of you as you approached the path leading out to the structure in the water. As you drew closer, both guards slowed their pace, allowing you to move ahead of them, to set the pace for what was to come. And that was when you saw him. Standing there, in the middle of the structure, eyes staring back at yours in utter shock.
Everything moved quickly. You weren't sure if it was you or Jihoon, but you found yourself in his arms, encompassed by that warmth that you had missed after so long. You felt safe for the first time.
"I knew you would come back..." he murmured gently against your shoulder as he held you tightly. Jihoon was afraid that if he let go, you would just disappear. He had searched for you for so long, and here you were. You just... appeared.
"Jihoon... I..." you started, but heard a calming, 'shh' leave his lips.
"Let's just savor this moment, please..." he told you tenderly, and you finally let all of the tension wash away as you melted in his arms. Though there were still things to work out. Though there was still a lot to discuss, being in Jihoon's arms again, at that moment, it was enough to make you feel like you had finally come home...
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coolkat122 · 5 years
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Genderbending Girl (Genderbent Ranma 1/2 Reader Insert)
Chapter 4: New Found Respect
I totally forgot to do Akeno's P.O.V last chapter, should I go back and add it or leave it be? I'll leave that up to you guys.
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(Y/n) P.O.V
I woke up almost immediately when I smelt Kaname cooking breakfast no joke my eyes snapped open around the same time as my Ma's and we jumped right onto our feets though since I was still injured from last night I cried out in pain. 
My Ma ignoring my cries rushed straight out the door and down to the dining room with me following behind pushing through the pain just so I don't miss breakfast.
I'm not going to lie it hurt like hell to do this but I didn't let it stop me, I have been through worse so it's not like I'm not use to pain but it didn't make it any better.
Which is a shame I would like to be better at handling pain, it would make things so much easier for me in the long run, I finally get down the stairs my ankle aching like a mother but I ignore it to the best of my abilities as I sit down and start chowing down on Kaname heavenly breakfast (why wasn't I marrying him?).
About half way through the meal Akeno finally shows up looking sweaty from his run, he heads straight towards the fridge and as he grabs some milk Kaname hands him a plate of food that I didn't notice before (huh Kaname must have noticed that last time Akeno barely had anything to eat so he made extra just for his brother).
Now I feel bad for not having thought about saving some for Akeno yesterday... nor for Nabi or their Mother... you know I'm starting to think Ma and I aren't exactly being the 'best' guest.... might want to work on that.
"(Y/n) what happened to your ankle?" Kaname who I just now noticed was on the ground picking up his rag saw my wounded ankle and was looking pretty concern about it. 
Akeno who was eating in a corner looked over and his eyes narrowed. "Wait is it worse than before?" I looked down at it and it did look slightly different than last night but I wasn't too worried about it just give it a few days and I'll be good as new.
"Eh it's fine" I said with a shrug in a nonchalant manner, Akeno didn't seem to like my lack of caring as he sat down his plate on the counter and walked over with a frown just as Kaname Stood up (there was so much worry in Kaname body language).
"It's not fine, you need to see a doctor" I frown from confusion as I looked down at my ankle that barely looked all that noticeable (See a doctor? Piff I barely feel it)
"Pass" I waved my left hand while using my right to grab another waffle before Ma could causing her to glare but I just stuck my tongue in response.
"(Y/n) I really think you should listen to Akeno on this" Kaname stepped in backing up his brother, I looked at him throng the corner of my eye as I thought it over glancing between him and Akeno before sighing.
"Fuagh" I muttered out through the mouthful of mushed up waffle bits in my mouth before grabbing a cup of milk to help it on it's journey.
There was a brief look of disgust on Akeno's face and look of relief on Kaname's as a smile touched upon his princely face before going back to the housework.
"Well let's go see this doctor" I wasn't thrilled but if it would get them off my case then I'd best do it right? I mean the alternative is that I listen to them go on and on about it which is such an annoying thought and I really rather not go that route.
By the kitchen doorway Akeno's Mother and brother Nabi were standing off to the side apparently watching us arguing over seeing the doctor though their facial expressions were different.
Su's was kinda lovey-dovey about it as she rambled on about us already acting like a married couple and Nabi's was kinda his usual mischief looking as he had this smug look.
"Aw look at you being all caring and kind of.. acting like a husband"  He stalked closer tugging off of to a corner to whisper something to Akeno.
Whatever it was Akeno didn't like it because he pushed him away with his face red as a tomato as he walked off to the front door only looking back to shout at me.
Cause apparently I wasn't moving 'fast' enough for him, like dude I was waiting for you to finish your little chat with your brother so chill.
As I limped over to him I heard Nabi snicker about Akeno's reaction as he waved us off with a see ya at school later, and with that the male went off to the school's direction while we went to the doctor's.
Akeno was way ahead of me due to him not having an injured ankle, I tried to keep up with him despite the pain and I think I was doing a more than decent effort thanks to my training (Chibi superior posing like a boss).
When he cooled down he slowed his pace till we were side by side-ish, he was still like an inch or two ahead, I could see that he was still frowning and grew curious as to what was it that Nabi said to cause him to be so upset?
So me being the nosy person I am I asked. "What did Nabi say that has you so worked up?" he seemed taken back by my question as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"It's nothing, I'm just a little tired of his teasing, he always does it but lately he's just been doing it more than what I'm used to so I over reacted" He glanced down at my ankle.
"Do you want me to carry you there? It really does look worse than last night, I don't think it's wise to be walking on it" I quickly moved as far from as possible so he wouldn't pull the same stunt as before.
"No thanks, I'm good" He shrugged but I was still eying him for any suspicious movement just in case but it was for nothing cause he didn't try anything and we eventually arrived at the place.
It didn't look like a hospital which I bought up so he mentioned how it was just a small one runned by a friend that helps out some of the locals and such.
When we entered I saw like one or two elder people inside waiting, Akeno and I sat down to wait but it wasn't long before a female with light brown hair and glasses that made it hard to see her eyes stepped out from a room with and old man. 
One of the old ladies got up and the pair thanked the lady before leaving, the glasses lady took notice of us and greated Akeno rather cheerfully and that's when I noticed the look on his face.....
AKENO LIKES HER! (SAY WHAAAAAAAAAT! *Head explodes*) I looked between the two like crazy trying to study their body language, trying to see if I was right if I was how did this lady feel about him? Did she return his feelings? But wait I thought Akeno hated girls! (I honestly thought he was gay... might have to rethink that).
How could I not? He took every chance he got to talk about how much he disliked them so what in the heck is this reaction to being around her? Blushing, that smile, they way he's looking at her oh yeah he likes her.
I felt a stupid smile creep up on my face as I confirmed Akeno's crush on this chick who's name I should probably learn. "Oh who's your friend Akeno?" 
"Uh? Oh this is (Y/n), she hurt her ankle last night so I thought it was best you checked it out for her"  Her head tilted down signaling to me that she was looking at my ankle.
"Hmm, let's have a look at that in my office shall we?" I was about to follow but I saw the other old lady that was here before me and I didn't feel right going before her.
"What about her" I pointed to the old lady but Akeno's lady friend waved her hand while shaking her head.
"Oh no she just comes in here for the quiet, nine grandkids and four grown children of her own along with their spouses living under one roof? Can be pretty hectic so I allow her to spend some much need peace and quiet here" Yakes! That's a lot of people under one roof.....
"Isn't Doctor Tofu so kind (Y/n)?" That was her name? Huh neat and unique sounding name definitely won't be hearing that anywhere else.
"Yup" I follow her to her office and sat down where she told me to as she carefully examined my ankle humming here and there as she narrowed her eyes not saying a word on it's condition, leaving us in total suspense.
Until finally she said something. "It's a little swollen but nothing serious, just use these and you'll be fine" She handed me some crunches.
I looked at them reluctantly before turning my gaze to her. "Do I have to?" she nodded.
"If you want to get better" I sighed as I grabbed them, I've never used crunches before so it felt weird trying to position them and all that but it felt like an embarrassment to even need these in the first place. 
I've had swollen ankles before and never need these, I got by just fine but now all of a sudden I needed to use these all because someone says so? Piff
"Stop pouting it's only for a few days" Akeno said as we walked towards the door just as Kaname came in. 
"Oh you two are still here?" The old lady that was sitting in the corner jumped up and left as soon as she saw Kaname which was weeeeeeird. 
My eyes followed her as I tried to piece together her odd behavior and what was even weirder than an old lady that seemed to enjoy peace and quiet running for the hills like a maniac is now Akeno was getting all weird and depress like. 
"We were just leaving" Akeno said as his gaze shifted to the ground not sounding like his usual self(which was always kind of confident sounding and so sure among a few other things).
"Oh wait before you two go- Kaname?"  I glanced back to Tofu and now she was kinda weird acting! What was going on? "Y-you're here" Tofu stood up straighter and started laughing all weird like and now I was starting to get it....
She likes Kaname ouch what a love triangle, Kaname on the other hand was normal acting nothing about him suggested that he likes her in any special way. 
He was just as polite and kind as usual. "Hello Miss Tofu, I have somethings here that I thought you're office could use" I got nosy so I looked in the basket he was holding.
Nothing in it caught my eye so I turned my attention back to the three of them, and Tofu came walking over like a robot stepping on my foot in the process. 
I stopped myself from screaming but it still hurt (jeez maybe she was a robot?), she took hold of something that totally wasn't the basket as she held it up thanking Kaname.
I think it was a pot. 
"Oh thank you Kaname, this will be a nice addition for my office HAHAHAHA" Is anyone going to tell her?
"Oh Tofu that's a potted plant" Kaname laughed taking the pot and exchanging it for the basket their hands touched for a brief second but that was enough to make Tofu shoot out of the building like a rocket.
"Hmm, I must have came at a bad time, it appears Miss Tofu had somewhere else to be" Akeno forced a closed eye smile as he agreed with his brother while also coming up with a cover story for Tofu.
"She did mention a house call she needed to take care of" Kaname hummed as he nodded before turning to us.
"Well I better get going and so should you two, I called the school so you shouldn't be in any trouble" We thanked him as we walked off to school.
~Akeno P.O.V~
We had just left Tofu's office and started heading towards school, along the walk I could sense that (Y/n) was struggling not to bring up the whole Tofu thing but I kinda wanted to talk about it and I honestly have no one to do that with.
Nabi would use it against me eventually at some point down the road and most of what I have to say would make Kaname feel bad and I obviously don't want that and I don't even know how my Mom would act so the only person I can think of is (Y/n) I'm sure she would handle it better right? Plus she's pretty much already knows some of it anyway from today.
And if the fact that she's not bringing it up as we walk to school not proof enough that she's at the very least a little trustworthy then I don't know what is.
So with a deep breath I stopped walking and bite my lip just a few seconds before actually saying something. "She's loved my brother for as long as I can remember you know?..... despite knowing this I still fell for her" My eyes drifted down towards my shoes.
"But I couldn't help it at the time she was the only person that didn't mock me for my appearance and treated me like a normal person so eventually I kinda found myself trying to earn her affections, I even went as far as to grow my hair out like Kaname's since whenever we were alone she'd bring up how much she liked his" I picked up the ends of my hair as I laughed.
"It's more trouble than it's worth having hair this long, I go through so many bottles just to make it look as half as good as Kaname... I really don't know how he does it, I remember spying on him once just to see how he does it but he doesn't do anything special or different he just...washes it...yup that's right..that's his secret nothing special there" I shook my head.
"But all copying my brother did was show just how different we were despite being related how...perfect he was...and how imperfect I was in comparison, I'd never get Tofu to notice when he's around but now that I'm finally talking about this to someone... maybe I don't need to...not anymore" I looked up to the sky as I tried to fight back the tears as I thought back to all the times I felt inferior or like a lesser being than Kaname. 
It's like no matter what he does it's perfect and all everyone would ever go on about whenever they saw Kaname was how they couldn't believe we were related. 
He was just so perfect and I wasn't, he can cook, he can fix things, he does housework better than anyone I know, when he was in school he had better grades than me, he was good at solving everyone's problems and the only thing I can think of that I better at than him was martial arts but what's that when compared to EVERYTHING HE CAN DO THAT I CAN'T!?
Does it even matter that I'm better than him at that? Of course I would be, he's just too nice to even think about hurting someone for a second, he can't even play video games if it has something violent in it.
He really is just such a nice person with a kind and generous soul but what am I? I can't even answer that cause I don't even know...
"Do....do you wanna...maybe skip school?" (Y/n )was pretty silent for a while so long so that I thought that was her trying to say no politely or something.
"Uh..sure?" I smiled at her response glad that she agreed to do it, I really didn't feel like dealing with Kuno and the others but I didn't want to do this alone so her doing this meant a lot.
I wasn't really hungry but I think I know her well enough to buy some food to keep her busy since she really can't do much as is and from the amount of time I spent with her has taught me anything is this girl loves to eat.
After buying a bunch of burgers and fries I took her to the park and we sat down at a bench to eat and talk about random things, she told me about her travels and all the weird training she and her mother did...and I must say her mother took it more seriously than mines did that's for sure.
Spending this time with her and not fighting for once kinda has me thinking maybe I was giving her a hard time for nothing, she wasn't as crazy as the girls at school and she definitely was a huuuuuge step up from Kuno.
"Ya know" She started with a mouthful of burgers and fries but stopped as she grabbed some soda to help it go down so she wasn't showing the whole park her lunch before continuing what she wanted to say.
"I know I give you a lot of slack for your looks and all that but.... you really don't look bad or nothing... I just didn't like the things you said about me so I wanted to say something back, anything really so...don't...don't feel bad about how you look, you honestly look really cool Akeno especially your hair"  She reached out to touch it, lifting it in the air before dropping back on my shoulder.
"Makes me wish mines could look like yours but I had it long once....and it didn't end well so I keep it short for convenience" She took a piece of her hair now pretty much doing what she did with mines twirling it a bit as she lifted it before letting it fall.
"Thanks..(Y/n) but I think you're onto something, in fighting I think it's better to have shorter hair anyway and I'm honestly done worrying about my looks, I think they played too big of a role in my life a little too long so I'm going to stop with that nonsense and focus more on my martial arts" She gave a thumbs up and a toothy grin.
"I support your new way of thinking" I saw her grab a burger but put it back after 'secretly' counting how many she had compared to me, I don't know where this new way of caring came from but I went into the bag and handed it to her.
"As a way of saying thanks for your support I hereby offer you this double-decker cheeseburger" Her eyes lit up as she happily took it and munched on it like there was no tomorrow.
The rest of the day was then spent going around trying to get her use to the crutches but all she could think of doing was trying to find ways to fight in them and dragged me into helping with that.
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Again I think I said this already but I'm going to try and create my own things along with my own plot and ideas for this so different things will happen maybe might add some minor o.c here and there. 
I hope that's not a problem..
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anavoliselenu · 7 years
Text
Hiched chapter 2
And then the cancer diagnosis. Diagnoses, plural—first Mom in my freshman year of college, then Dad just last year.
But even though I’d had a front-row seat to Mom’s mortality, Dad’s still came as a shock. He’s as wise and proud as ever, and he puts up a brave front for the rest of us, but I can tell what the cancer is doing to him. I’ve been his daughter for twenty-six years; I know where to look. It’s those little moments, like when his hands shake when we talk about the future, or he gets that faraway look in his eyes.
Dad has so little time. Sometimes it’s still hard to remember that. All too soon, Rachel and I will be each other’s only remaining family. And my little sister sure as hell won’t run Tate & Cane Enterprises. She has never been interested in the business world; she loves fashion, not finance. Although maybe I should ask her advice on graphic design, for revamping our marketing campaign styles . . .
I frown into my sangria. Damn, I’m thinking as if Tate & Cane is already mine. As if I’ve subconsciously taken my responsibilities for granted.
Well, why shouldn’t I? Dad always told me that his seat would be mine someday. This company is my birthright. It’s Dad’s legacy—the hard-won fruit of all his blood, sweat, and tears. He shouldn’t spend his last days worrying about what will happen to it. And soon, this company will be all I have left of him. Assuming I actually manage to hold on to the damn thing.
Personal sentiment aside, T&C also employs over six thousand people. Six thousand lives that will be turned upside-down if our rivals take over.
Fuck. I can’t believe I’m even considering this ridiculous contract.
But my career is everything to me. It always has been. While other girls enjoyed normal social lives, I studied for hours every night. While they picked out homecoming dresses and sneaked booze from their parents’ liquor cabinets, I did internships. While they rushed sororities, I co-chaired my university’s Women Entrepreneurs Club. I aced every single one of my undergrad and MBA classes. No partying and barely any dating. I never coasted on Dad’s reputation; ever since I was old enough to understand what a huge responsibility waited in my future, I wanted to be ready for it.
Well, I’m ready now. I’ve worked hard all my life, and I’ve earned the right to prove myself as head of Tate & Cane. I’m confident that I can fill Dad’s shoes.
I can’t let Dad down. I can’t let my younger self down. This company is mine; the thought of losing it to a rival is even worse than the thought of Justin making suggestive comments at me for the rest of my life.
This company can’t slip through my fingers, so I won’t let it—even if that means I have to partner with Justin. Not just partner, but dear God, marry the son of a bitch. Our fathers must have gone temporarily insane when they wrote their wills. Then again, they always did have weird, old-fashioned ideas about dating and courtship.
But no situation is impossible. If I can just calm down and think clearly, an optimal solution will emerge. Any seemingly impossible goal can be managed by breaking it down into bite-sized component tasks.
I breathe deeply to calm myself and try to let my training take over.
Camryn has made two important points. First, both Justin and I want to save Tate & Cane Enterprises. This company is our birthright, our fathers’ legacy—and its employees are our responsibility. And second, this marriage is just another form of legal partnership. Which means it’s a contract open to negotiation.
Yes, it royally sucks that I’m not marrying for love. My closet romantic side cringes at the thought. But I try to set aside as much emotional baggage as I can. Not every marriage has to be like a Hollywood romance, after all. Justin and I don’t need to be in love with each other to successfully co-pilot a company.
The $100 billion question here is: How well would we work together?
Can we even get along? Will our partnership be stable and productive? Or will it implode . . . taking Tate & Cane down with us?
This decision doesn’t rest entirely on my shoulders. Our fathers have always said that we’re stronger together—that’s why they paired us off in the first place. So Justin ought to do some heavy lifting too. In fact, I could argue that it’s his job to convince me, since he’s already on board.
So, let him make his sales pitch. Let him prove himself to me. Let him demonstrate how and why this relationship could actually succeed. I’ll do my part too—I’ll try to maintain good faith and stay receptive to the idea of us becoming friends. But I’m not the type to commit to something unless I know I can follow through. If I’m going to marry Justin, then by God, I want to win at it.
The end of my inner debate must show on my face, because Camryn reaches across the table to squeeze my hand.
“I’m going to order us dessert.”
“I love you,” I say on a sigh. Even with my newfound determination, I’ll need some serious chocolate to get through this.
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re really brave.”
I force a smile. “Thanks.”
Grumbling to myself, I fish my phone out of my purse and call Dad to schedule another meeting with Justin and Prescott. I have to give them my answer as soon as possible.
• • •
Late that afternoon, almost the close of the business day, I open the same conference room door I walked through yesterday. Nobody turns in response; the three men seated at the table have already looked up at the sound of my footsteps in the hall.
Justin’s crooked smile is just a little bit too smug. What was that you said earlier? Something about not marrying me? it seems to gloat. How’s that humble pie taste?
A muscle tenses in my jaw. He didn’t even have to say a word and I’m already irritated all over again. Goddamn it, he’s so annoyingly attractive—with his charcoal-gray suit, crisp white shirt, and merlot-colored tie, all expertly tailored to fit his six-foot-two frame—and the fact that he can get under my skin so easily just annoys me even more.
His entire demeanor screams confidence. From his deep, inquisitive eyes that see too much, to his strong hands with neatly trimmed nails, to the thick column of his throat that bobs when he smirks at me. He’s the thing my teenage fantasies were made of. Woodsy male scent. Muscular, yet trim frame. A quick wit that always finds a way to pull me into a debate.
Ignoring the pounding of my heart, I force my eyes away from Justin and address the room. “Thank you all for reconvening on such short notice. I have a proposal to make.”
“I thought that was my job,” Justin interjects.
Pointedly ignoring his joke, I explain. “I’ll sign the inheritance contract at the end of the month . . .”
Everyone blinks at me. Dad and Prescott look pleasantly surprised. Justin’s annoying smile is gone, replaced with a slightly furrowed brow.
“But only,” I continue, “if Justin can show me that a relationship between us could work. After all, Tate & Cane’s fate hinges on our ability to cooperate as both business partners and spouses.”
“A trial period?” Dad asks.
“You could describe it like that. I also think that getting to know each other better will help the company’s public image. We need to make our relationship believable; it’ll look strange if nobody ever sees us together before we marry.”
It’s also a chance to dip my toes in before diving straight into the deep end. An attempt to inject a little normality into a deeply abnormal situation.
But I don’t say that part out loud. I don’t want to admit right now that marriage still scares me a little. Not with Justin blinking curiously at me, and Prescott looking frustrated at the prospect of even further delays.
Justin finally speaks up. “So, essentially, you’re asking me to date you.”
I nod at him. “Yep, that’s the idea. At least take me out for a drink before I consider taking your name.” I look straight at him, waiting to see his reaction before I hit him with my next clause. “Oh, and another thing. Refrain from having sex . . . with anyone.”
Chapter Three
Justin
She wants me to woo her?
Of all the scenarios I imagined—from the most likely, where Selena rips up the contract, to the even crazier, where she actually signs it—this wasn’t one of them.
She’s laid down her own stipulations, ensuring that I’ll have to work to win her over. Though I probably should have expected a curveball. This is Selena Cane, after all.
“If there are no further questions, I should get back to work,” Selena says. When nobody responds, she turns and struts out of the conference room, her round ass swaying as her heels click across the floor. The door swings shut.
“That was interesting,” I say under my breath.
Fred stops beside me as I stand, trying to process what just happened. “It sounds like the ball’s in your court, son. But don’t worry. I know you can pull this off.”
“Thanks.” I nod, then take off toward her office. She doesn’t get to drop a bomb like that and then saunter away.
She’s inside, perched in her cream-colored leather chair, stilettos kicked off under her desk. Her toenails are painted light blue, and she’s tapping her foot in time to whatever tune she’s humming. Something on her computer screen has her complete attention.
Startled at the sound of the door opening, she looks up, her wide crystal-blue eyes finding mine. “Did you need something? I have work to do.”
She mentioned us going for a drink. Which is perfect, considering I need to prove how compatible we can be. But first, I need her to see something. This isn’t just some game; I need her to understand exactly what’s at stake if we don’t succeed.
“Come with me. There’s something I need to show you.”
I tug her up from her desk chair, allowing her a moment to slip her delicate feet back into her heels, then tow her from the office before she can argue.
“Where are you taking me?”
I grunt and mumble, “You’ll see.”
“Don’t be such a caveman; use your words.”
“We’re going to the mail room.”
She scoffs. “What on earth for?”
I don’t answer, just punch the button for the elevator. We cruise down to the basement floor of the building with an eerie silence hanging around us. When the doors open to the basement, I take a deep breath.
“Ahh . . . you smell that?” I grin at her.
Her mouth turns down into a frown. “Mildew?” Her gaze darts around the large open space stacked with boxes. “The health department would have a field day down here.”
This is my favorite place in the whole building, so I don’t take too kindly to Selena turning up her nose at it. “Don’t be such a grouch. Come on.”
I lace my fingers with hers once again and tug her farther down the fluorescent-lit hallway. When we reach the mail room, I wonder for a moment if Rosita is on her break.
“Now, what is it that you wanted to show me?” Selena raises her eyebrows and places one hand on her hip, obviously not impressed.
Wide shelves line all four walls. They’re numbered with the corresponding floors of the building and hold various envelopes and packages. It’s not a high-tech operation, but it gets the job done.
“Not what, but who.” I tip my chin toward the Latina cheerfully humming a tune to herself. Rosita’s back is to us as she sorts mail at the far end of the room.
“Rosita,” I call out.
She swivels around, clearly not expecting anyone, and her shoulder-length hair swings. A look of surprise is painted across her pleasant features, especially her large dark brown eyes, and a hint of pink comes to her round cheeks.
Rosita immigrated here from Mexico when she was just eighteen, taught herself English, and worked hard to support her growing family. Now, she’s a force to be reckoned with.
A company of this size usually employs a mail-room staff of three to four people. But Rosita said they’d just get in her way, so she runs the whole operation herself. She took ownership of both the position and the space, and made it hers—even hung cheery posters on the wall. One of a monkey dancing. Another of bright orange poppies.
“Mi amor!” she cries, already heading toward us. “Abrazo.” She opens her arms to me, expecting our customary hug.
“Gracias, Mamacita,” I reply, giving her a light squeeze.
It’s the same way she’s been greeting me for the past six years. I know about a whopping four words of Spanish, but I always use them with her. I want her to feel at home, I guess.
Coincidentally, Rosita and I started work here on the same day. We even attended orientation together. I was a fresh college grad, still wet behind the ears, and Rosita, fifteen years my elder, was skeptical about the owner’s son. Unlike Selena, I haven’t worked here since I could walk. I had other jobs during college and made a point of interning at another firm so I could see how the competition worked.
When I met her, I thought Rosita might assume I was some rich, privileged punk who didn’t have to earn his paycheck. It made me all the more determined to prove her wrong. And Dad always was big on learning the ropes from the ground up, anyway. So for my first two weeks at Tate & Cane, I began working right alongside Rosita in the mail room.
It was during that time we cemented our relationship. We delivered packages and memos side by side, and shared jokes and stories. But when I really fell in love was when she shared her empanadas with me at lunch.
Rosita’s eyes widen slightly as they swing from mine to Selena’s. “Miss Cane,” she says, her voice soft and quizzical. It’s not every day the CEO’s daughter wanders down to the mail room.
“Please, call me Selena,” she says, correcting Rosita with a smile meant to ease. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Everyone at the company knows Selena, even if they haven’t met.
“Did you . . . need something?” Rosita looks between me and Selena again.
I shake my head. “Nope. Just came to say hello.”
Rosita’s posture relaxes and she smiles. “Did you get my invite for Maria’s birthday party?”
“Of course. Two weeks from Saturday, right? It’s already on my calendar.”
“Have you had lunch yet?” She smiles and reaches out to smooth one hand over my silk tie. “I worry, you know.”
I smile. “I’ve eaten. Thank you.”
Sometimes when I’m busy, I’ve been known to skip lunch—that is, until Rosita forces herself into my office with a sandwich from the deli down the street. It’s like she can sense when I’ve missed a meal. She often blurs the line between coworker, friend, and mother.
I’ve brought Selena down here today because I want her to see there’s more to this company than what the numbers say. Some things can’t be learned from a spreadsheet. The perspective Selena has perched in her corner office chair all day is quite different from the perspective one gets on the ground floor of this operation.
Standing here, looking into Rosita’s rich mahogany eyes and feeling the warmth and care that pours from her very soul, it’s impossible for us not to be aware of the importance of our responsibility. We can’t fail at this. If we fail, we take all these people down with us.
And I, for one, won’t let that happen.
After pleasantries are exchanged, Selena and I head back toward the elevator.
“She’s important to you, isn’t she?” Selena asks.
“Very.”
She nods, looking contemplative.
I check my watch as we step inside the elevator and let out a sigh. Selena looks as overwhelmed as I feel. We’ve been under a mountain of stress lately, and I have a feeling it’s only going to get more intense.
“Today was unexpected,” I say. “Just like that, after weeks of negotiation, you’re actually going to consider this, huh?”
“I will do this on my terms, if and when I’m ready, Justin. Consider the next few weeks a trial period.”
“That will be easy, sweetheart.”
“Oh, it won’t be easy,” she says, correcting me. “And don’t call me sweetheart.”
“Are you sure about that, Mrs. Tate?”
“I told you not to call me that, either.”
“I know. You told me to take you out for a drink before you’ll consider taking my name.” I smirk at her. “Which I think is an excellent fucking idea. Brilliant, in fact.”
I coax my first smile from her and feel like thumping my chest. Although I have a desk full of work to get back to, the idea of sitting across from Selena and hearing her tell me about this supposed trial period sounds like a lot more fun. Time to push a little harder.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere, you know.”
“We’ve had a lot going on. I think we could use a cocktail,” she says, amazing me that she actually agreed.
“I’ll meet you in the lobby in fifteen?” I know she’ll never agree to leave without wrapping up the last of her e-mails.
“Sure.”
Then I watch her ass as she saunters away toward her office.
• • •
Once we’re seated at the elegant Stanton Room, a swanky bar across the street from our office building, Selena and I place our order with the waitress—a vodka martini, extra dirty for her, and a Scotch on the rocks for me.
“Extra dirty, huh?” I wink at her.
“Surprised?” There’s a hint of a smile on her lips.
“That the straitlaced Selena Cane likes it extra dirty? Why, yes, I am.”
“Don’t overthink it, Justin. I’d hate to see you burst a brain cell.”
I scowl at her. If there’s one thing Selena and I do well, it’s banter. And though she’d like to believe otherwise, sexual tension runs rampant just below the surface.
I lean in toward her, my elbows on the table. “So, how will all this work, exactly? Me and you? I just like to be clear on expectations so I can exceed them.”
Her gaze is cool. Not icy, at least, but still a long way from where I want her. “Well, I haven’t put a lot of thought into it yet, but you’ll have to win me over. Show me that this crazy thing could actually work.”
If there’s one thing I know about Selena, it’s that she refuses to fail. Something tells me that with everything that’s on the line, Selena needs to know I won’t fuck up and embarrass her as a husband. We have to work together, live together, and actually pull off this whole coupledom in a big way.
“So you said you want to date? I don’t date, Snowflake.”
“Winning over doesn’t necessarily mean dating.”
She takes a sip from her martini glass and sets it down with an inquisitive look on her delicate features. She may look like your average, sweet girl next door, but at her core, Selena is a ballbuster. A total triple threat. Sexy, intelligent, and talented. Which is perfect, seeing as those are the qualities I always dreamed my future wife would possess. Well, those, along with a tight—
Selena clears her throat, interrupting my train of thought. Fuck.
“Winning over means that we can be in the same room together without ripping each other’s throats out.”
I nod. “Okay, we’ll be civilized about it.”
“Fine,” she says. “And we should figure out what the hell we have in common.”
I think we already know what we have in common—and to my understanding, it’s a long list. But I’ll go by whatever definition she wants. I’ll win no matter what it is.
“Seeing as we have to put on a show, I agree. I should know a bit about my future fiancée,” I say. “For instance, your favorite sexual position . . .”
She coughs and sputters, choking on the olive in her drink. For a minute there, I think I’m going to have to perform the Heimlich maneuver, until she swallows the damn thing and glares at me.
“What does that have to do with anything?” she croaks out, her voice still hoarse.
I chuckle. “Settle down. I just want to know how to please my future wife, is all.”
“You can please me by buckling down and getting to work at the office instead of taking those three-martini lunches you favor.”
“Darling?” I blink at her. Since I’ve been told by more than one ex-girlfriend that my eyelashes are enviable, I’m hoping it has the exaggerated effect I’m going for. “We were supposed to be discussing what we have in common.”
“Right. Well . . .” She begins listing items on her fingers. “Summering in the Hamptons. Working at Tate & Cane, obviously. Our families are friends.”
“We both lost our mothers,” I point out.
Her gaze drops to the table in front of her, but I don’t feel bad. It’s just a fact of life, one we’ve discussed before, and I’d rather skip the superficial bullshit and get down to a real level.
“Yes. What else?” She drums her fingers on the table.
“I, for one, like anal. You?”
Damn it. Again with the choking. I stand and pat my future fiancée’s back until her airway clears.
“Another drink?” I ask, noticing that hers is now empty.
She looks flustered that she downed it so quickly, but signals to the waitress for another round.
“I know what I’m getting myself into, Justin. Besides, my focus is going to be on saving this company, not pretending to be the happy little wife to my fake husband.”
“Correction.” I lean closer. “Soon to be real husband. I’ll win you over, Snowflake. This will happen.”
Chapter Four
Selena
Win me over, Justin says. Real husband.
There’s nothing real about this. He can call this trial period “dating” if he wants, but all I’m after is reassurance that we’ll mesh as co-CEOs. No need to confuse the issue with love or sex, no matter how dangerously attractive he is. I just have questions that need answers.
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